#Listen this is how I think her hair looks

[mercurycft]

𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂

## reader x awfc !!

hi all!! finally releasing this, which is in honour of jonas finally pissing off away from our girls and our team! i hope you enjoy! love always, RGx

warnings: angsty team x management arguments, mentions of mental health!

3.6k words.

“i’m sure the team will be buzzing with joy this evening after tonight’s win, but how are the girls and yourself taking the recent and surprising departure of a lifelong gunner?”

“yeah, as you said we’re all pleased with the result tonight - it was a great match with a good side and i think the score reflects the determination we took onto the pitch with us.” you watch as beth pauses, like she is searching for words that will do her feelings justice. “she was the best of us, not just the team but the best of us and our friends. i think she was and is destined for great things, but life and people unfortunately happened to get in the way. but i’m happy, we’re all, happy for her.”

you've known beth long enough to know when she is lying and it pains you to realise how the tone of her voice drops at the mention of you. it stings momentarily, but you shake it off and allow pride to take over you as the camera pans to the rest of the team taking their victory lap.

you find yourself smiling absentmindedly at your phone, having sat through the entire match with your eyes glued to your phone - watching your girls on the pitch from your home, instead of beside them for the first time in years. your stomach filled with a cocktail of emotions that you can’t seem to process at this very moment. a toxic mixture of sadness and despair, twisted and twined with anger and hatred for what the situation had become.

its been two weeks since your statement went out, three since you made the decision and four since the argument. in an ideal world, it wouldn’t have gone this way - you would’ve stomached your feelings for longer and swallowed your bubbling anger, bit your tongue and carried on as usual. but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

------

1 month ago.

a 3-0 win should be celebrated. it should fill you with joy and overwhelming excitement - but it doesn't. instead, it fills you with nothing but anger and resentment for the club you once loved, you used to love. in place of congratulations and pats on the back, is a lecture. a plethora of critiques and corrections despite the effort and conviction everyone had shown.

you and the rest of the girls stand huddled in a group in the locker room, stood in an agonising silence. your hair is still wet, from the sickly british rain that decided to visit, your face still tinted red and your chest still heaving.

you tune out to jonas' voice, watching absentmindedly as he paces ahead of the group - volume above his usual decibel as he tears into the group, pushing further and further. you don't listen, allowing your mind to wander. no one dares talk back, instead choosing to take his words. you, however, fail to be as nonchalant as them - swallowing the bubble of anger in your throat and biting your tongue to the best of your ability.

your mind is brought back into the tiled room at the snap of your name from the front of the group. you look up to be met with jonas' eyes on you - his eyebrows raised and seemingly awaiting an answer. "what?" you mumble through gritted teeth, eyes locked on his.

"do you care to fill the rest of us in on what is so important besides my feedback right now?"

you shake your head, matched with a sarcastic looking, sickly-sweet smile and lift your hand top gesture towards him. "oh please, carry on."

"i dont appreciate your attitude," he quips back, screwing his facial features together, feining disgust.

"whatever," you scoff, rolling your eyes and peeling yourself away from the bodies beside you - now overly aware of their eyes on you.

"i'm out." pause. "i'm going to leave, and have a glass of wine and celebrate a fucking win." you turn away from them, too busy to take off your kit and instead scrunching your clothes and belongings into your kit bag. "which by the way, is what we should all be doing! instead of standing here taking shit because he didn't like how we were moving on the pitch!"

there was a shift from him, and a deep red tint crept up his neck as he shot daggers at you from across the tiles. “i do everything for this team! maybe once in a while, it would be nice for you to do the same if you think you know better! please, do tell us, what makes you think you have done anything of significance for this team? for arsenal!”

it changed, then. the small shred of sympathy you had, the small shred of guilt - gone. ripped from inside you and splattered across the walls of your home stadium locker room. the girls around you seemed shocked at his words, confused and unsure of what to expect next.

you paused. taking a deep breath and halting your shoving of clothes and shoes into your bag, and turning to face him directly through the sea of red and white kits in front of you.

“what do i do, for this team?” the question sounded almost broken, like you couldn’t actually believe he was playing this card. you searched for the answer deep within yourself for a few seconds, allowing the hurt to build in your throat and fuel the fire burning deep behind your eyes and in the pit of your stomach. your eyes flicked over each of the faces now looking at you and a small smile teased at the corners of your lips as you looked at their concerned expressions.

after a few more moments of silence, you inhaled deeply and began. “i’ve given my life, to this club. to this team. i put in the work, i trained day and night in the academy, until i was enough for the senior team. and when i made it here, i made a difference. i stepped up when kim was out, when leah was out. when laura first moved here, i took her in.” you paused, taking another shaky breath, cautious of the tears held back by nothing more than your water line. “i don’t expect you to give a shit. but whilst you were too busy tearing this team down. katie for her aggression, kim for her captaining style, leah for her rehabilitation, viv for her performance, beth for her drive, lia for training hours and every other fucking player in this building. i was building them back up, i was trying to make this right.”

silence fell over the room, and you shook your head. “im done.” you all but whispered, slinging your bag over your shoulder and moving towards the large doors leading away from the locker room. “i can’t do this anymore, this club is my home - and i will not watch you tear it down.” you shoved the door, a single teare slipping down your cheek the second you heard the door swing back on its latch and close again. you didn't stop to say goodbye to the familiar faces in the building, instead, with your head down and focused on the floor beneath you - you walked straight into the carpark, got into your car and drove home.

as you drove away, the weight of your decision settled in your chest. you couldn't believe it had come to this, that you had walked away from the team you had poured your heart and soul into. all the emotions you had been burying for weeks and weeks on end were now uncontrollable, tears streaming as you contemplated your actions but you knew you couldn't bear to stay in an environment where your efforts were belittled and unappreciated.

after a 40 minute drive, you found solace and refuge in the familiar walls of your apartment. the silence enveloped you as you sank onto the sofa, reaching for your phone. you hestitated in pulling it out of your bag, unsure of what may be waiting for you when you unlock it.

but still, you did, heaving a deep breath when your screen lit up with a message from beth. her words expressing concern and confusion about what had transpired in the locker room. as you read beth's message, a mix of emotions washed over you - relief that someone cared enough to reach out, but also a pang of guilt for leaving without saying a proper goodbye. to her, to any of the girls in the room. you quickly typed out a response, skipping over the details of your motives - instead opting for a light hearted message, apologising for your abrupt exit and apologising for not controlling your temper.

minutes turned into hours as you sat there, staring at your phone, the weight of your actions heavy on your shoulders. you hadn’t moved, still sat in your jacket and kit, boots still tied to your feet. the sound of a familiar notification pinged through the room - like it had been doing on repeat since that first message from beth, and you saw more messages popping up from your now ex-teammates.

------

1 week later - 3 weeks ago.

the days blurred into a week as you settled into a routine without the training sessions, team meetings, and the constant thoughts of upcoming matches that used to consume your time. you found freedom in the quiet moments alone, the weight of expectation now lifted off your shoulders, a sense of liberation starting to bloom within you. you finally felt like a person, not just a player.

you had been speaking to the girls everyday, each of them keeping you up to date on life behind the scenes of the club. the drama and tension seemed to have escalated in your absence, with rumors swirling about disputes between jonas and some of the other players. your decision to leave had sent shockwaves through the team, but it also seemed to have sparked a newfound sense of unity among everyone.

it was a miserable london evening when you got your first unexpected visit, darkness just creeping across the clouds when a knock at the door interrupted your law and order binge.

to your surprise, standing on your doorstep was leah, with a hesitant smile on her face.

a flood of questions and uncertainties raced through your mind as you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say or how to react to her unexpected visit.

"hey," leah began, her voice soft yet laced with underlying tension. "uh, can I come in?"

you hesitated for a moment, the inner turmoil evident on your face as you considered whether to welcome her inside. finally, you stepped back, wordlessly opening the door wider to allow her entry. leah entered cautiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment with a mix of nostalgia and apprehension.

there was a palpable tension in the air as you both stood in the living room, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. you shared the quiet for a second or two before leah spoke up, her words carefully measured. "i know things have been rough lately... for all of us, you especially, i wanted to come here and talk, clear the air maybe?”

you studied her face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was genuine concern etched in the furrow of her brow. with a sigh, you nodded, gesturing towards the couch for her to sit. as she settled on the edge of the cushion, you perched on the arm beside her, like you used to.

"i just... i wanted to say that i'm sorry. sorry for not speaking up before, for not standing by you when things blew up. i let my own fears and doubts cloud my judgment, and i should have been there for you, we all should have been there for you."

her words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken tension that had plagued your relationship for months. you could sense the sincerity in her voice, the raw vulnerability that she rarely showed to anyone.

“i appreciate it, but it wasn’t your fight, le.”

“your fights are our fights, you’re one of us, you always have been. you always will be”

you gave her a half smile in response, and moved closer to her on the sofa - opening your arms to her. she mirrored your smile, allowing your arms to wrap around her and hers around you.

after a few moments, you pulled away, looking at her directly. “thank you, for coming round. and for looking after me for all these years. but i think,” you paused, sniffling and turning your attention to the fabric of the sofa below you. “i think its time,”

she nodded along with you, taking a deep breath before smiling at you. “if that’s what you want to do, then do it, and we will support you. i promise.”

“i don’t know how to tell the girls, i haven’t seen any of them since i left. i don’t want them to find out through social media,” you rambled.

“we’re all meeting at mine tomorrow, why dont you come along? i know they want to see you, and i think you deserve a night to relax with us - gunner style.” you share a laugh at her comment, agreeing to see the girls. a small shred of anxiety tore through the depths of your stomach, but you shook it off; determined to do the right thing.

the next day seemed to fly by, seeming to disappear from you as you spent the hours doing odd jobs - attempting to distract yourself from the uneasiness gnawing at your insides.

now, you find yourself outside leah’s flat. she said 7, but you underestimated the traffic at this time in this part of the city - so you’re late, as per usual, and composing of yourself on the door step. after a deep breath, you raise your hand to knock.

once, twice, then the door flies open. a smiley young aussie waiting to greet you, her arms immediately around you and pulling you tight to her frame. “jesus, i missed you,” she whispers into your shoulder. “i missed you too, k.” you pull apart and she grabs your hand, pulling you from the now closed door and into the living area. it’s littered with everyone you know and love.

they greet you like nothing has changed, arms wrapped around you and whispers, comments and remarks of support. you slip into the group like you never left.

after you’ve eaten, and have returned to the living area, you stand up - allowing everyone’s eyes to fall on you. you take a deep breath, smiling at them then looking down at your thumbs. you twiddle them and enterlock your hands as you search for the best way to say it.

“i wanted you to hear it from me, that next week, a statement will be released. a statement explaining my temporary contract termination from arsenal. i love you all, like my family. i don’t want any of you to feel like any of this is your fault, but i just feel like i’m at a different point in my life right now - a point where my views, and the clubs managment’s views no longer align. i can’t jeopardise my mental health, for people who can’t seem to put me, or my friends, first.”

you say it in one, your mouth and words moving faster than your brain can comprehend. you finish with a shallow breath, looking up to the group. they take it well, a few of them shedding tears at the offical loss of their friend and teammate, others hugging you and sharing comforting smiles. you know it needs to happen, but this is the part that kills you. leaving behind your family, your people.

the night draws to an end and you begin saying your goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and arranging plans to meet up soon. as you start making your way out of the room and towards the door, kim pulls you aside. you can’t read her expression, a sickening mixture of sadness and happiness for you.

“i’ll miss you,” she says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “but I know you’re doing what’s best for you. just don’t be a stranger, okay?”

you nod, feeling a lump form in your throat as you hug her tightly one last time before heading out the door.

------

1 week later - 2 weeks ago.

3pm. your phone dings with a notification from the arsenal woman’s football club instagram and app, giving you and thousands of others the news of a new and important post. you hover your finger over the notification, hestitating.

you open it eventually, propping your phone up as the video loads onto the screen. you cringe at the sight of you, expectant of whats to come.

“hi gooners, it’s so nice to sit down and speak to you. this year marks my 15th year at arsenal, if we’re taking it all the way back to my first academy scouting when i was 8. i have nothing my fondness and admiration for this club, these people and this community. to be apart of this team and to watch the growth of woman’s football has been an honour and a pleasure i will forever be grateful for. when i think back on my years here, i have nothing but happy memories. memories of friends, of wins and of losses, of meeting fans and selling out stadiums. some of these things we never believed would be possible, but you, every last one of you, have made it possible. after 15 years of my life dedicated to the game, i think it’s time to take a break. temporarily and indefinitely, i will be taking a step back from the club. thank you all for your unwaivering support, it means the world to me. this is a special club, which remains my home. but my health and wellbeing needs to be my number one priority. thank you.”

you watch as the video comes to an end, and the messages, comments and likes begin. you switch off your phone after a few minutes, tucking it under a cushion on your sofa and resuming your show - tuning out the constant buzzing.

------

present day.

you watch until the live recording of the match ends, you watch all of the post-match interviews, with nothing other than a smile on your face. when the stream finally does end, you feel like you can breathe again, switching to your messages app and drafting a text into the groupchat to congratulate the girls on their win. you press send, then abandon your phone beside you somewhere on the sofa. paying it no mind and you lean back into the comfort of the cushions and pillows surrounding you.

as you sink deeper into the softness, you let out a content sigh, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. you close your eyes and let the sounds of the television fade into the background, relishing in the quiet of your own thoughts.

you dozed off, allowing the safety of sleep to engulf you for a few hours. you lay peacefully until the doorbell rings, jolting you awake. you groan in annoyance, wondering who could possibly be bothering you at this hour. you reach for your phone as you stand, 9pm. reluctantly, you shuffle away from the sofa and make your way to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

as you swing open the door, you are met with a pair of familiar faces that brings an instant smile to your lips. beth and viv, stand on your doorstep with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"surprise!" beth exclaims, holding up a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers. "we come bearing gifts. can we come in?"

you step aside, allowing them to enter, still slightly taken aback by their unexpected visit. they both breeze past the threshold, only stopping for a moment to give you a hug before making themselves at home on your sofa.

“i didn’t know you were back in london, viv!” you exclaim, watching her set the flowers on the counter. “and shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” you ask beth with a laugh, shutting the door and joining them on the sofa.

“there’s no where we would rather be, mijn liefje.”

its the later end of midnight when you all start to tire, spread across the sofa and floor with eyes barely open and focusing on the movie playing.

“do you guys want to just stay here tonight? i don’t wan’t you driving home tired.” you say through a yawn, stretching your back out and turning to look at the both of them cuddled up beside you. both of their eyes closed and chests rising peacefully. you smile to yourself, moving to grab a blanket from the basket beside you and cover them both up. you switch off the tv, turn off the big light and make your way to your bedroom.

it isn’t long before you’re asleep too.

------

the next morning you wake to a persistant buzzing sound, your phone rattling on your bedside table. notifications from twitter and instagram flood your lockscreen, along with messages from the arsenal groupchat and from distant friends.

your eyes are just barely open when you reach for it, giving your eyes a moment to adjust before looking at the screen. you swing yourself off the bed, feet finding the cold of the floor as you pad through the flat until you find beth and viv.

they’re awake, both sharing the same expression as they look at you in the doorway between the two rooms.

you begin to read from your phone. “we can confirm that jonas eidevall has resigned from his position as head coach of our women’s first team and leaves us with immediate effect.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Reputation to uphold

Day 5: No need for poetry.

Summary: Hiding the letters is his first priorities.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1368

Warnings: fluff, azzie being a shy baby 🥹

A/n: i loved writing this hehehe (i wrote most of this in 40 mins 💀)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"I missed this, mama." Hazel sighed, pulling away her cup of hot chocolate. Azriel smiled, looking over at his daughter, sitting next to his now son in law, Kaden.

What did I say? He was going to take away my daughter.

Y/n raised her brows. "It’s barely been a week since you’ve last had it."

Hazel grimaced. "Yeah, and his hot chocolate does not compare."

"Hey that’s mean!" Kaden sputtered, choking on his own drink.

"Yeah, stop being mean to my son."

Hazel rolled her eyes, turning to her father.

"Dad, come on, tell me a story." She had always been fond of listening to stories, and Az, wanting to make his daughter happy, had begun the new habit of telling stories every night.

Azriel glanced at his wife as she settled in next to him, warmth spreading in his chest. No matter how long they’d been married for, even just the sight of Y/n filled Azriel with happiness. Just as it had back when he had first seen her in the market, giggling with her friends over something.

"What do you want to hear about?"

Hazel leaned back, contemplating before perking up. "How you met mom and got married."

Azriel’s cheeks warmed, and he prayed his wife did not notice.

"Look dad, you’ve always said I was too young to know, but now I am even married. I want to know."

Azriel sighed, looking to his wife for help.

"Yeah Az, I wanna know the story too." Y/n grinned, not meeting his eyes.

Knowing he would not be allowed to leave without reliving his most embarrassing moments, he got comfortable in his chair.

"I saw her in the market one day. She was with her friends, and I instantly knew I was going to marry her one day."

She had been so ethereal, and she was in just a simple flowy dress. Her hair had been pinned out of her face, the breeze softly playing with the strands the way Azriel wished he could. Her smile, it could have brought him to his knees. And her sparkling eyes spoke of kindness far more louder than actions, the love and compassion for her fellow fae shining through every blink.

"Did you ever write her love letters and poetry?"

Azriel scoffed, focusing on the dark dregs at the bottom of his cup. "Me? I don’t have to resort to poetry."

Azriel felt his wife’s gaze on him, and he could picture her perfectly, sitting there, eyebrows raised in a are you sure about that? gesture.

"Yeah, he just ended up drowning in the river trying to impress me."

Azriel turned to glare at Y/n accusingly, who simply shrugged. "Now Az, lying is bad. Someone has to tell the truth."

Azriel grumbled, then again began. This time, truthfully. "Feyre needed some paint supplies from the market, and because I was free, I offered to get them for her."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel never thought he would ever ask someone for a romantic day out. After all, he never had to do that. He would just give females a glance and they would ask him to spend time with them themselves.

But this time, it was not happening. The female in the market square barely spared him a glance when he sidled up to her, pretending to look at all the brightly coloured pots on display at the stand she was giggling with her friends over.

"Y/n, that pot would look so good with your couch!"

Y/n. That name would certainly look good with Azriel’s name next to it.

"Yes Cindy, I’m going to cook on my couch."

Azriel smiled down at the pot in his hands, biting his cheek.

"It certainly is beautiful though." He mumbled, voice low so only Y/n could hear as her two other friends started bickering. He felt her stiffen before she glanced at him.

"That it is. But I don’t think I’m in need of more things."

Azriel swallowed, nodding. "You live near?"

Finally, he gathered the courage to meet her narrowed eyes. "Why do you ask?"

He smiled with a confidence he did not feel. "Where will I pick you up from for our dinner tomorrow then if you don’t tell me?"

She reared back as if his words had a physical impact on him.

"I- I’m sorry, I’m not interested."

Azriel blinked. But before he could say anything, she had grabbed her friends’ hands and dragged them away.

But from the slight blush on her face, he knew that he only needed to try and she would agree.

He bought the pot she had been eyeing so longingly just moments before, then hurried to go get the paints Feyre had asked for.

He was so sure he wouldn’t have to resort to poetry.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The next day, Azriel was back at the market square, trying to figure out which direction she had gone. He had probably been wandering around aimlessly when he spotted the beautiful head of the lady he was so enthralled by.

"Hey. Pleasant day." He said as he fell in step beside the unsuspecting female.

She jumped, wide, frantic eyes meeting his own. Exasperation spread through her features as she realised it was him.

"You- what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, grinning as he held his gloved hand out. "I’m Azriel."

Her brows furrowed. She probably thought Azriel was loose in the head. "Y/n."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

She sighed. "Look, I’ve already told you I’m not interested."

"Why not?"

She paused. "I don’t like males who think they’re entitled to my time."

He nodded sagely. "Me neither. I hate people like that. But look at this like this, I want to get to know you. Maybe this could be something-"

She sighed. "No. Sorry."

Azriel’s palms turned sweaty. He had found her again, he did not want to let her go without getting something out of this. Even one evening of talking was enough. "I- I am the high lord’s shadowsinger."

Her gaze hardened. "Are you threatening me?"

His eyes widened. "No! I could never! I’m just trying…"

"Trying what?"

"To make you interested in me. It has worked before."

She rolled her eyes. "I don’t like males who try to entice me by stating their high powers."

Panic seized Azriel. This was going very wrong very quickly, and he did not like it one bit.

"I did not mean it that way-"

"Really, sir, I do not care what you meant and what you didn’t. Just leave me alone."

Azriel was left gaping after her, breathing heavy.

Fuck.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel balled up another paper, throwing it behind him before clutching his head.

He had decided that being arrogant and trying to keep up his records of never having to resort to poetry would not help him.

Your eyes like the sun,Shining so beautiful,Your hair like waterfall,You-

Was Azriel truly so bad at poetry?

He was doomed.

She wouldn’t give him the time of day, evident by her refusal to even acknowledge him the three times he had tried to interact with her after that day at the market, and he was losing hope. He had sent countless letters and poems already to her house through his shadows, and he still had received no response.

Maybe he was well and truly doomed.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"You know, I still have all those letters and poems."

Azriel’s head whipped to look at his wife, eyes wide. "Why?"

She shrugged, getting up from the couch and taking the cup from Hazel and kaden, both who grinned unabashedly.

"You think I would burn or throw away letters of desperation sent by the spymaster?" Y/n snorted. "Let me get them for you, children."

"No!" Azriel semi-yelled, shooting to his feet before dashing into their bedroom, hoping to stop her before she even tried to reveal all his secrets.

Loud laughter followed the frantic spymaster, but he did not care. All he cared about was finding those letters and burning them, or maybe atleast hiding them away so his wife couldn’t tease him about it.

He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[mostly-imagines]

Who Needs Heaven? : Safe & Sound

jason todd x fem!reader

aka your daughters learn what happened to jason

warnings: nonspecific discussions on how jason died

(1) the drop-in

The sound of water splashing under toy boats and fish fills the small room.

You ring the washcloth out over the suds, Rory’s idle hands scooping up the excess. She entertains herself with the slowly dissolving bubbles between her fingers as you fill up your cup.

“Put your head back,” you tell her, nudging her forehead.

She does, squeezing her eyes shut.

You pour the cup of water over her head, combing through her hair. You refill the cup again as she pipes up. 

“Mommy,” she says with a casual lull in her voice. 

You pour it out again, making sure to rinse the shampoo at her roots, “Hm?”

Her hand comes up to wipe the stream from off her forehead, “How did daddy get that scar?” 

“Well, daddy has lots of scars,” you say carefully. “You know that.”

She shakes her head, “Littler scars. He has a big one though, right here.” 

She points up and down her torso. 

“What happened?”

You take a breath, eyes focused on the dissolving suds. “What happened…”

She continues on, “He said scars come from when you get hurt and the bigger ones are bigger hurts. How did he get such a big hurt?”

“Um...” She’s quite young to hear that story, especially coming from you. Your older daughters have an awareness of what happened, though it’s never been formally discussed. You think Mia knows what the autopsy scar is and the twins definitely know he died at the very least. You’ve been made aware that there’s been…discussions at school about who their dad is and how he one day died and then years later magically reappeared. You and Jason had decided that you would talk to them about it eventually, but only when they were old enough to not be completely traumatized hearing it.

You just hadn’t assumed that day would creep up on you like this.

You sit back, tense. “Did you ask him that?”

“No…” she says gravely. “I don’t wanna make him sad.”

You nod, trying to collect your thoughts. How can you steer away from this without attracting more questions? 

“Do you know what happened?” she asks, scanning your face.

You do your best to reset your expression to neutral.

You start without really knowing where the sentence is going, “We…we can talk about it later…”

Rory tilts her head, “Not now?”

You shake yours, “Not right now.”

That’s enough to appease her curiosity for the rest of the bath, but you know with that one, it won’t last long.

You’d gotten her dressed and sent her on her way, but your mind stayed heavy the whole time.

You walk downstairs slowly, hands still damp from the bath. As you turn the corner from the stairs you find Jason, reading contentedly by himself in the living room.

You cross the room without hesitation, climbing into the spot next to him on the couch. He doesn’t need to look up, only adjusts the position of his arm so its draped over you, pulling you into his side.

“So…” you start, “Rory was asking about your scar..”

He turns away from the book, looking at you with serious eyes. “What did she say?”

“She wants to know how you got it,” you tell him. “I didn’t tell her, but she didn’t want to ask you either.”

“Why not?” He asks quickly, face brimming with anxiety.

You shake your head, calming his worries. “She said she didn’t want to make you sad.”

He relaxes a bit at that, taking in the information.

You break the silence after a minute, quietly telling him, “I think it might be time to talk about it.”

He looks dejected, eyes on the floor. “They’re still little..”

“I’m not saying tell them everything right now, just���acknowledge it.”

“I don’t—” He sighs, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell them that.”

You think for a moment, nodding. 

“Tell them how you told me. Just…more kid words.”

He still looks resigned at the idea so you continue, “You know how to talk to them. Just tell them what you want them to hear. They’ll listen.”

He nods, eyes low. “Okay…”

You stand up, and he grabs your hand as you rise, pulling himself up too.

You give each other one more confirming look before calling up the stairs, “Girls? Come here.”

There’s a ten second delay before a scuttle of footsteps starts down the staircase, arriving with a low-liveliness, nearly bedtime energy amongst them.

The second you’re within sight of them, they’re keen that something’s not right.

“What’s going on?” 

“Is—”

“Everything’s alright. Nothing’s wrong,” you tell them. “We just want to talk to you for a minute.”

Your words don’t do much to ease their minds, but after a moment they slowly gather onto a single couch. They’re all squished in together and Rory’s half on top of Anna and Laine, the latter of which can barely move. Still, there’s no complaints to be heard, only an air of seriousness throughout the room. 

Jason clears his throat, though he has trouble looking at them, the easier option seeming to be the carpeted floor. 

“Alright,” he starts with a deep breath. “So my, uh, my Y scar…”

The air in the room drops the second the words are out, the girls all quiet and listening closely. You can tell this is something they’d been wondering about for a long time.

“When I was younger and I’d just started doing the, uh, special job my brothers and Bruce do…” He takes another breath, “Some things happened that shouldn’t have and I got hurt..”

“What things?” Ryan asks.

“I…I got tricked by a bad guy and…I just got hurt.”

It’s uncharacteristic for the girls to all look so dejected and serious like this. Goes to show that you were right—they do have an understanding of what happened.

Anna is the first to pipe up. 

“Did you die?”

“Anna—”

“It’s alright,” Jason interrupts. He collects himself before eking out, “Um…yeah, I-I did.”

He’s still stuck on those words and you have to silently push for him to keep talking, so as to not give their imaginations time to run wild.

He takes the hint, stuttering, “But, um, it’s complicated, but I came back and—”

Laine interrupts this time, almost teary-eyed.

“Are you going to die again?”

Jason shakes his head quickly, “No. No, honey, not for a long time.”

It’s quiet for a moment as they process, sorting through the details into something their minds can understand.

Rory looks on edge, wide-eyed, as she asks, “Are you a ghost?”

“No, sweetheart,” Jason answers calmly with a shake of his head. 

That seems to calm her anxiety more than anything else.

“Are you better now?” Laine asks. 

Jason nods, “Yeah, I’m a lot better now.”

Ryan looks skeptical at the choice of words. “How did you…get better?”

He takes a shaky breath, “Well…your mommy helped me a lot. And then you helped me some more. And now…now I’m all healed.”

None of them seem to really understand, but they accept the answer anyways.

The next question is from Anna. 

“Is the bad guy in jail now?” 

Jason only momentarily stutters in his response, but pulls it together nicely. 

“It’s not something you need to be worried about. I promise. Nothing like that’s going to happen again to me or you or anyone.” 

This appears to appease most of the concerns flying around in their heads. 

He continues, “We can talk about it more when you get older, but…

You take the queue, nodding Rory and Lainey your way. 

“Let’s go get ready for bed, okay?”

You nudge the younger two upstairs, who, to your surprise, go without resistance.

You give Jason one last glance before heading up the stairs, happy to see him much more relaxed than he was at the start of this conversation.

He’s left downstairs with his eldest three girls, each nearly bursting at the seams full of their thoughts and questions. 

Jason thumps down on the couch between them, a heavy breath following.

The trio watch him quietly for a moment before Anna speaks.   

“I know what it is,” she tells him somberly. He looks at her with more melancholia than he would’ve hoped for.

She continues, “There’s autopsies on my show sometimes.”

Right, her show. The X-Files.

Jason nods, a bit remiss at the idea that she knows.

From his other side, Ryan pipes up. 

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head, “No, I-I wasn’t…” 

Wasn’t alive. He doesn’t want to say that, though. 

Ryan nods, understanding anyways. “Did it hurt when you died?”

He hesitates before answering, wavering between lying to protect their minds and telling them the truth. In the end, he decides that you’re right, they can handle it in small measures. 

“Yeah. It did, a little,” he confesses. ”But like I said, that’s not going to happen again.”

From behind Ryan, Mia speaks so softly Jason almost misses her words. 

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at her, brow furrowed. “For what?” 

“That that happened to you,” she says. Her eyes are filled with an equal sadness to his and it breaks his heart. Even more so that her words are so clearly meant sincerely.

“Oh.”

It’s all he can manage to say.

He was only a little older than Mia when his life had been taken away from him and he’d been forced to reset everything he ever knew. And now, all these years later, he sits here surrounded by his children, his world that he was given a second chance to create. His children that don’t see a monster when they look at him, don’t see the scarred giant that he sees. They just see their dad. 

When they were still young they’d started getting almost excited whenever they got a scar from playing too hard because it made them more like him. It took Jason years to just bear the thought of his scars, but his girls look at them like art. Even when they know he got them in bad ways, they pour out nothing but affection. No disgust, no fear, no hate. Just love.

His eyes close and his face falls in his hands, overwhelmed by the idea of his children being such angels, despite being products of him.

“Dad? Are you okay?” 

He nods, face still covered. His voice is muffled as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, I just, um…” 

His words die off with little fight, and when his hands drop his eyes are red. 

Anna, who’s usually compulsed to only touch emotion with a ten-foot pole, is the first to wrap her arms around him, holding him tight. The gesture takes him by surprise, especially from her, and he tenses briefly before deflating like a balloon. Mia and Ryan are quick to follow suit, basically dog-piling over his opposite shoulder.

“It’s okay, dad. We love you. And your scars,” Ryan tells him. 

Oh, they think he’s sad.

Hell, thirteen years ago he would’ve thought he was sad. He only started to understand his feelings after his first daughter was born. He doesn’t tell them he’s not sad, doesn’t tell them that he’s crying because life slapped him around and then gave him everything he could ever want five times over. 

Instead, he just nods, pulling them impossibly closer.

who’s your fav daughter

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x cat animagus!reader who he picks up thinking as stray and lets in on a secret

James Potter was the kind of guy who could never ignore a creature in need, so when he found a little brown cat loitering around the Quidditch pitch during practice, his heart melted instantly. "Poor thing," he murmured, crouching down. “You’re probably cold and starving. Don’t worry, mate—I’ve got you.”

Before you could react, you were being scooped up in his strong arms. Not that you minded, really.

James carried you straight to the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, setting you on his bed with all the care of a proud parent. “There you go. Home sweet home.”

You blinked at him, tail twitching in mild amusement.

“Right,” he said, flopping onto the bed beside you. “Let’s establish some ground rules. No scratching the furniture. No biting Sirius—actually, scratch that, feel free to bite Sirius. And no stealing my socks, got it?”

You gave him the look—your signature, unimpressed really, James? glare.

James narrowed his eyes at you. “Weird. You’ve got this very… familiar judgmental vibe. Kind of like—nah. I’m imagining it.” He grinned. “Anyway, since you’re new here and seem chill, I’ll let you in on a secret.”

You tilted your head, heart thumping nervously.

James puffed out his chest dramatically. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”

You twitched your ears.

“She’s amazing. Funny, smart, gorgeous.” He laughed, leaning back on the bed. “But Merlin, she’s terrifying sometimes. But, you know, in a hot way. Like, I kind of like it when she yells at me.”

You swished your tail sharply, earning a startled laugh from him.

“Oi, don’t judge! You don’t know what it’s like to be loved by a goddess,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “She’s got this look—like, when I say something dumb, she just stares at me. Kinda like the look you’re giving me right now.”

Your tail lashed harder, but James carried on, oblivious as he scratched the back of his neck. “Anyway, she’s amazing. Except sometimes, she’s so bossy. Always telling me to do my homework, stop sneaking chocolate into the library, quit messing up my hair—”

You hissed softly, and James blinked. “What? I’m just saying it’s endearing. Don’t get your whiskers in a twist.” He leaned in, narrowing his eyes.

“And the sass! She’s so sassy. Honestly, sometimes I think she loves making me squirm.” He sighed dreamily, resting his chin in his hands. “What a woman. You’d like her. Or maybe not. She’d probably call you ‘scruffy’ or something. Wait—you’re scruffy and judgy. Are you sure you’re not her Animagus form?”

You froze.

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “She’d have told me. I mean, I told her I’m a stag! She’s even touched my antlers. I think she’s got a thing for them, but she denies it. So, yeah, she’d totally tell me if she were a cat.”

You stared at him, doing your best to suppress a laugh.

The next day, the game was up.

“Wouldn’t want to be too bossy, now would I?” you said sharply, glaring at James in the common room.

James stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. “What?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head like a wet dog. “No way. How do you—what—how do you know that?”

You just smirked.

James clutched his hair like a man on the verge of a breakdown. “Wait. Wait. Okay, no. There’s an explanation. Did Sirius tell you? No—he doesn’t even listen when I talk. Did Remus overhear and snitch? No, he’d lecture me about boundaries. Did… did you talk to the cat?!”

You snorted. “What?”

“Do you speak cat language?!” James demanded, looking genuinely alarmed. “Oh, Merlin, are you part Kneazle?!”

“James—”

“Or—or did you use Legilimency on the cat?!” He gasped, his hands flying to his hair. “Were you watching me somehow? Are you spying on me?!”

“James—”

“Oh my god.” His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes wild with panic. “You’re in cahoots with the cat, aren’t you?”

“James!”

He flailed dramatically. “Are you secret friends with a magical talking cat?”

“James Fleamont Potter!”

“What?!”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “I was the cat, you idiot.”

James blinked. Once. Twice. Then he pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You WHAT?!”

“I’m an Animagus,” you said, shrugging.

James stared at you like you’d just told him you were the heir of Merlin. “No. No way. You’re lying. You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

You shrugged again. “Sorry, love. Not joking.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “I LET YOU SLEEP IN MY BED.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

“I SCRATCHED BEHIND YOUR EARS.”

“Very kind of you.”

“I TOLD YOU MY SECRETS!”

“Well, you did think I was a stray.”

James stumbled backward, clutching at the table for support. “I—I let you see me in my pajamas! I let you cuddle with me! I—oh my god, I called you soft and—wait—” He glared at you, realization dawning. “You hissed at me when I called you bossy!”

You grinned. “Sure did.”

“And you glared at me! That was your glare! Oh, bloody hell, I should’ve known.” He groaned, collapsing onto the bed. “This is so embarrassing. Why didn’t you tell me?!”

You plopped down beside him, smirking. “I wanted to see how long it’d take you to figure it out.”

James buried his face in his hands. “I let you TOUCH MY ANTLERS.”

“And they’re very nice antlers,” you teased, poking his side.

He peeked at you through his fingers, pouting. “This is betrayal, you know. Pure betrayal.”

“James.”

“Nope. Betrayal.”

“James.”

He groaned. “Fine. But you owe me so much cuddling to make up for this.”

“Deal,” you said, pulling him into a hug.

“Wait,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “You do think my antlers are cool, right?”

You kissed his cheek. “The coolest, love.”

“Thought so.”

[girrl1nterrupted]

say it

going to a party with billie and her getting jealous when someone starts flirting with you

billies rlly mean in this but I LOVE JEALOUS ROUGH BILLIE FR

-------

it was tense. you sat, hands sweaty from the nerves as your girlfriend sped down the street. her face flush, jaw clenched, teeth grinding. to say she was angry was an understatement; she was fucking livid. billies hand gripped the wheel tightly, indentations visible from the sheer force of her fingers. in certain light, you couldve sworn you could see steam coming out of her ears.

"bils i-", "dont", she replied harshly. her eyes remained fixed on the road but you could still feel the enraged looks she was sending you. "you know it wasnt anything like that", you began. billies eyes darted to you, urging you to be quiet as her jaw clenched harder but, you continued. "she was just being friendly, really". "stop fucking talking", her voice low and strained. "god, whatever", you mumbled under your breath turning away. you immediately felt the daggers she shot into the back of your head. "what was that?", she replied, her voice dry and raspy. you knew better than to push her in this state.

after an exaggerated scoff coming from her, it was silent for what felt like forever, tension heavy and dangerous. you heard frustrated sighs and mutters of words as her speed continued to increase before she finally spoke to you. "you really shouldn't have fucking done that", she said tilting her head towards you. "do what?, talk to people?", you mocked slightly irritated with her. billie squinted her eyes as she stared at you, visibly getting angrier. "fuck it", she whispered as she pulled into an empty dirt car park on the side of the road.

billies door flew open as she paced to your side. "out, now", she demanded. "im not gonna ask again, get. out". there was something so hot about how dominant your girlfriend got when she was jealous. how hot she looked when she was all riled up. getting in the back, you noticed how tense her muscles were, how her veins ran along her arms. she sat, manspreading running her hand along her thigh before gripping your wrist. "get ontop". your mind was racing but you listened, climbing on top of her at an almost embarrassing speed.

"such a good girl when you want to be", she groaned as her hands clung to your hips. her breathing was ragged as she scanned over your body, taking in the sight of you. "god, I told you not to wear this", she tugged at the thin straps of your dress, eyes clouded with jealousy and all the ways she was imagining fucking you. "had that bitch thinking she could flirt with you". her hand snaked up your body, wrapping around your neck as she pulled you into a hard, telling kiss. the way she fought against your tongue, you knew she was trying to remind you whos you were.

slowly, you began moving back and forth on her lap, feeling the rough fabric of her jeans rub against your clit perfectly. she didnt stop you, her hands helped work your hips on top of her. "this how she wanted you?", she moaned down your ear as you felt her smile cockily against your neck. your arms wrapped around her shoulders as she kissed and sucked on your throat, hands rocking you faster on her lap. "fuck bils", you whispered. her hand flew to your neck, gripping slightly too tight. "fucking say it properly, what's my name?". her eyes glistened with anger. "fuck, billie", you whined feeling your stomach twist at how aggressive she was being with you. you fucking loved it.

billie reached for your hand, placing it over the zip of her jeans and smirked when she saw you realise. "is that-", "yeah, and youre gonna take all if it, right?", she slurred. you watched as she undid her belt, unzipping the fly and taking out her cock. she had this devilish smile plastered on her face. "suck it", she mumbled, lacing her fingers in your hair. "fuckk", she groaned as she watched your head go up and down. the sight of you below her, pleasing her like this drove her mad. "dont you look so much better when youre using your mouth like this sweet girl?". "hm?, instead of flirting with other people?", her tone high as she borderline teased you.

billie bucked her hips up, forcing her strap further down your throat, causing you to gag and look up at her. the tears in your eyes only excited her. she pulled you back up, kissing you immediately and reached for her side of the door. getting out, she pushed you back, making you stay in the car before she positioned herself outside the door, facing you. "lay down", she said spreading your spit along her cock. her hands came hard around your thighs, pulling you closer to her. she pushed your legs apart, showing her exactly what she wanted.

"fuck, youre so pretty", she groaned as she ran her finger along your pussy, feeling how soaked you were. "youre gonna learn who you belong to", she slurred before lining herself up with your throbbing pussy. "oh my god", you cried as you felt all of her inside you, filling you perfectly. she began thrusting into you hard, setting a foundation for how rough she was going to be. her fingers dug into your thighs as her pace increased, hitting every right spot. "shed never make you feel like this", she panted, her breathing hitching with every stroke.

you looked towards her, watching as she held her tshirt up with one hand, showing her defined stomach. each thrust revealing more and more of her toned muscles, her face red as she fucked into you. "too deep b-bils", your words broken as your reached for her, feeling as her hand grabbed yours, pinning it on your stomach. "take it, im gonna ruin you". her thrusts turned from deep and hard, to incredibly fast and determined.

as if she could feel it, grunts and low groans echoed out your girlfriend, feeling as you clenched around her cock. "who do you belong to?, say it", she whined, harmonising with your whimpers perfectly. she lowered herself slightly, letting the new angle pound against your g spot at an ungodly speed. "slow down im-", "who do you fucking belong to?", she cut you off, digging her nails deeper into you. "you, only you billie", you moaned as you felt the tension inside you begin to break.

"thats right, mine, mine, mine". she could feel how you tightening around her, telling her you were close. "be a good girl and cum on my cock". "MY cock", she repeated. your body began to shake, legs vibrating against her as you felt her words tingle down your body. "fuckk, bils", you whined as you came hard around her, your pussy pulsing on her cock. she slowed down, still keeping her strokes deep as she let your orgasm drip down her strap, watching as you came undone beneath her.

she pulled out, reaching for your body to pull you up towards her. as she kissed you, it was clear she was satisfied. "you did so good for me", she whispered between kisses. her arms wrapped around you, as you buried your head in her neck. one thing was obvious, you were completely hers.

[mywritersmind]

I hope your requests are open. I had this idea of Lando dating either a singer or dancer. Mostly inspired how he said in a video that he would like to be a singer for 24h. Basically Lando surprises the reader on tour on a location of your choosing. The fans are freaking out about him being there, because they haven’t made it official to their fans and after the show they make it public. Maybe by a post where he is backstage with her being fluffy or something. It’s purely an idea so if you don’t like it then feel free to ignore it.

ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND - LN4

listen up : kissing! cuteness! some smau! thanks for request!! i love lando x singer for some reason and even tho this is short, it’s adorbs!

word count : 1098

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I squeal as I jump into my boyfriend's arms, he spins me around while my head is buried in his neck, “I missed you!” Once my feet are back on the ground, I look at him. Taking every bit of him in, the face I have memorized. I look into my favorite eyes in the world, and smile.

“I missed you too.” He tugs at my waist a bit and kisses me softly. “I’m excited for tonight.”

“Great to see you too, Y/n.” Max fewtrells tone makes me laugh instantly. He’s staring at us like we’ve commuted some crime.

“Hi Max. I’m happy you could come!” I lean into my boyfriend, noticing the camera around his neck.

He nods, “I’m worried how much you like Lan but, you’re good so.” I laugh as he gets distracted by my manager walking by with food.

Because he’s gone, I drag Lando to my dressing room where he immediately falls onto the couch, smiling widely. “Look at you, all famous and talented.”

“Right!” I tease, “You have no idea what it’s like!” I walk closer and Lando’s hands slide up the back of my legs, staring up at me.

He stops them right before the hem of my skirt. “You look good. Not fair that I have to share you with the thousands of people out there.” He refers to my current packed venue just as the opener starts another song.

He tugs me a bit closer so I move down slowly until I'm straddling him, his hands now on my ass as he smirks at me. Lando has this look that he does, like everytime he sees me he just has to be as close as possible to me.

I rest my hands on his neck and kiss him. He mumbles, “I really missed you.” He tugs me closer and kisses me harder.

I laugh into him, “I do have to go out eventually so don’t get too excited…” He groans when I say it and moves his lips to my neck, “Lando…”

“Don’t all rockstars do this?” He eyes me as I laugh, his lips meeting mine again as there’s a knock at the door.

Lando and I end up backstage with my crew while my guitarist strums on his guitar and my manager Ally goes over tonight as if I haven’t done it a million times.

I’m sitting on Lando’s lap, a bit more PG this time, with his hand on my hip as I listen to Ally talk.

She’s pacing before she turns and sigh at us, “You two are adorable.” It catches me off guard a bit because she’s always been the one saying we shouldn’t be public because of our careers.

It makes me happy that she supports us, even if she does think he’s bad press.

She’s pulled away as I get a five minute stage call. “You’re going to be amazing and i’ll be front row!” Lando grins, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

I laugh, “Lan, you’re in a box.” I’ve sat him and Max in VIP for my friends and family with Gracie Abrams and Finneas so that should be interesting.

“I’m seriously so proud of you.” His smile is so contagious, “You’re so talented and amazing and beautiful and perfect.” I want to cry at his words. But there’s no time because my stage manager hands me my microphone and points at his wrist.

I kiss him one last time before he leaves to find Max and go to their seats. Before I can step closer to the stage though, I get stopped by Ally.

Her face is stern, “I need to talk to you after the show, about Lando.”

I frown, immediately, scared of what she has to say. But her face goes soft, “I think you’re right, you should go public. You’re sickeningly in love and if that’s what you want…” I wrap my arms around her so tightly that she has to pry me off.

“I love you!” I scream so loud that even the crowd can hear me.

“Yeah yeah, say it with a raise.” she finally cracks a smile and squeezes my arm, “Go kill it out there.”

⋆༺

I’m sweating by the time the show is over. I can still hear the crowd screaming when I walk off the stage, the same grin I started with, still plastered on my face.

I scream when I see Lando. I could see him watching me the whole performance and I’ve never been so happy.

“Hey, you did insane!” Max is first to talk as Lando hugs me again.

I let out a breathy laugh as Lando kisses my cheek, “Thank you, Max!”

“Lando is so lucky to have someone so cool because it really evens out his weirdness.” Lando eyes Max who pulls up his hands in defense and wanders away.

Lando kisses me again, “You did… I can’t even explain it! You fit so well on stage and I was singing every lyric!”

I raise a brow, “You know every lyric?”

He nods enthusiastically, “Me and everyone in my garage! I play nothing else before a race.” I shake my head, running my hands through his curls, “But you seem extra happy… is it because i’m here?”

I roll my eyes even though he’s right, “I have some news.”

His jaw drops when I tell him we’re going public. He doesn’t even consult his PR people before posting the pictures.

⋆༺

LANDONORRIS

liked by yourusername and 823,644 others…

landonorris SHES MY GIRLFRIEND SUCKERSSSS @//yourusername ily🙂‍↕️🫶🏻

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↳ username00 : IM CRYING SHE DESERVES THE WORLD

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↳ landonorris : If I fuck this up, please do.

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oscarpiastri : Finally you can talk to someone else about her. Y/n, you’re great and all but I know far to much about you.

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↳ landonorris : my love 😍🧡

↳ carlosainz : WHIPPED

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↳ georgerussell : am I the only one who thinks this is cute?

↳ lewishamilton : George.

↳ georgerusell : WHIPPED

↳ francocolapinto : WHIPPED🫵

[scorpiosbite]

the time actress!reader mentioned obx in her interview

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── while the obx cast were together in drew’s hotel room madelyn in her ever obsession of game of thrones brought up that you had mentioned how much you love obx in an interview. causing them to watch the interview together.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 and 3 weeks after the first time they watched the show together. at this point of my timeline the cast have watched the entire first season of game of thrones.

drew was scrolling through his phone, you had followed him back on instagram a week ago and he was on the moon. though he hadn’t messaged you yet. unsure on what to say to you. drew prided himself on being a confident man yet, your ability to make him nervous through a screen was unprecedented.

while stalking your profile for the umpteenth time he found himself wondering about you yet again. your limited amount of posts made you even more intriguing to him. he wondered what kind of person you are. what things made you tick, whether you would stare up at him with those siren eyes, whether you moaned or whimpered during sex, whether your face scrunched up and your mouth hung open as your chest heaved like it did in your sex scene that hasn’t left his brain since the moment he watched it.

just as he fell into a spiral of thoughts about you madelyn spoke up from her seat across the room, drawing the attention of everyone else, and drew was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone in his room. “oh my fucking god! i forgot to tell you guys!” she was staring down at her phone. but drew was having trouble focusing on her, still consumed in his thoughts of you.

the others, however, had no problem driving their attention to her, so drew remained in his bubble staring at the most recent post on your profile, a vogue magazine cover from three months ago, of you, seated, legs spread on the iron throne with the sword dark sister held in your hands standing between your legs, the crown of aegon the conquerer tilted on your head, the lace thigh high socks with garters disappearing under the skirt of your tight mini dress and the bold red coating your lips enticing him further.

it wasn’t till he heard your name slip from madelyn’s lips, was his attention torn from the captivating sight on his screen. “wait, what you just say?” madelyn smirked “of course, only when i say y/n’s name, do you listen.” drew blushed lightly. but didn’t make the move to defend himself, after all they would be right, he had been distracted from the moment he saw you in all your glory stealing the screen.

“what i was saying that y/n mentioned obx in an interview, just pass me the remote, i’ll show you.” drew’s heart rate spiked, the thought of you having seen him in his element, doing his job, made him self conscious in a way that he wasn’t ready to admit. once madelyn had the video loaded on the screen, drew was once again struck by how effortlessly beautiful you are. dressed in simple black pants and an off-shoulder cream long sleeve top, brown boots disappearing under your pants and simple gold hoop earrings, your brunette hair loose and following in natural waves. drew looked at your empty neck and thought how good you would look if there was a necklace with his initial hanging there, branding you as his.

madelyn skipped through the video until the moment you were talking. the interviewer asked you and your cast-mate what shows you watch during your down time when filming, your voice rang through the silent room and drew was struck once again by how attractive your accent sounded, your british accent deep and sultry but more casual than the tone you use when playing visenya. “oh, well mimi and i love outer banks a lot, to the point where we quote it on set quite often. i think we’ve annoyed everyone.” you laughed and drew thought about how he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

your cast mate and best friend, mimi who plays arianne martell laughed and agreed and the interviewer who was surprised by your answer said that obx was one of her favourite shows too. your face immediately brightened as you watched her intently as she spoke about the show. what drew would give to have you look at him like that.

madelyn paused the video and drew knew that once everyone had left his room he was going to watch the entire video. “that’s so cool!” jd gasped. “i know right? that’s so crazy that she’s seen our show.” madison replied. but drew couldn’t bring himself to speak, he wondered what you thought of him after watching his performance. he wondered if you had the same thoughts he had about you about him.

“i followed her when i first watched the show and she followed me back, but after seeing that clip a week ago i messaged her and we’ve been talking back and forth ever since, she’s so fucking cool, it’s insane. i think we’re friends now!” madelyn raved. “you’re friends with her?!.” drew was baffled, how was madelyn just bringing this up, she has known about his developing crush for weeks. “ah, now you want to chime in drew?” “yes, we’re friends and she’s gonna be in la when we get back so i told her she should come hang out with us, what you guys think?”

drew’s heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, he was gonna meet you. what the fuck.

thank you for all the love on the first part i’m so grateful. and for everyone who wants to be added to the tag list i’m figuring out how to do that so please be patient with me. also please send me asks about this au i would love to do like a drew starkey x actress!reader thoughts thing, but let me know what you thought of this part!

[knavesflames]

𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑜

hello friends, I have arrived. As per the poll, shower sex was first. I had trouble figuring out how to do this but settled on this. I hope you enjoy! (it’s supposed to snow on monday, god save me) (i always end my fics with humour why)

Word count: 2.1k

Contents: shower, tired arlecchino, fingering, it’s soft they love each other fr

nsft utc!

Arlecchino’s favourite thing to do after a long day of dealing with incompetent Fatui grunts is come home and see you. You greet her the same way each time, greeting her with a soft hum, waiting for her to appear in your vision. She appreciates that you give her space to at least take her blazer off. She does it hastily, the garment often being left on the floor by the doormat to be picked up by her on the way to bed later that night. You always seem to be cooking when she comes home, something you have learned to time perfectly— you know she gets hungry when she comes home, and you know she’ll only forget to eat. Each time she moves to the kitchen to wrap her arms around you, a soft sigh leaves her lips, her own subtle way of smelling what she can only describe as pure domesticity.

Arlecchino’s job requires her to be many things. Ruthless, unfeeling, violent, even. When her hands graze your waist, you feel none of that. The hands belong to a woman full of love, even if she cannot express it. You do things for her that no other person would. When you share a meal, for example, you leave any spices out of it (to her satisfaction, much to your own dismay), until the end, after you’ve plated whatever food it is and placed it on the table. It takes more time, but the small flicker of gratitude in her eyes when she sees the colour difference, or smells the difference of the two dishes, warms your heart.

Your eyes inspect her as she eats. Expressionless as she is, she isn’t very good at hiding her feelings. Not with you, anyway. “What’s the matter?” Your quiet voice comes out as a sort of hum as you glance up at her. You watch her hand slows, the metal of the fork reflecting the ceiling light.

“I am tired. Clearly, nobody in this organisation can do their jobs. I do not understand how we are to revive the—“ She cuts herself off before she says anything else. You know well enough that she doesn’t talk about work at home. You do not ask her to. You watch as her hand comes up to release her hair from her signature ponytail, a smile making its way to your face when her snowy strands cascade down her shoulders, disappearing behind her back. When her hair is down, she looks almost soft. Kind. You know, deep down, buried under the facade of strictness (that you beg her to stop applying to herself— she never listens), she is a woman full of love. You know that much because even during nights where her nails are biting into the skin of your thighs, or your hips, or even on occasion, your neck as she draws sound after sound out of you, the other hand is always caressing some part of you, her eyes always full of tenderness.

You remember one of the first times you had sex with her— it was the first time you had attended one of those stupid Fatui balls with her. You had let her pick out the outfit herself, and she enjoyed herself thoroughly. You had barely gotten into your apartment before she had picked you up and laid you softly on the bed sheets, grumbling about how you never made your bed. You were still figuring each other out— what worked, and what didn’t. Midway through, when you weren’t thinking, you whispered. “Degrade me.” Your eyes moved to look into her own, only to be met with an immediate frown. “I will not. How could I ever say such things about you?” You tried to explain, perhaps wondering if she was unaware of what it truly was. She did know, she couldn’t fathom saying a bad word to you, even in such a situation. You learned then how soft she truly was.

“A shower would help,” you muse through a mouthful of the food. “Warm water is good for tense muscles. You’re tense, you can barely keep your shoulders relaxed.” Her eyes move towards the food in front of her. For some reason, she isn’t too hungry. Work has stressed her incredibly, to the point her sentences are short and curt. Her face is apologetic after, you know she means well. You allow it. “I can wash your hair, I know you like that.” After deliberation, she lets out a small hum, a yes.

Once your stomachs are full, you move to place them in the sink, vowing to yourself that you’ll clean them later (you’ll forget). Taking her by her blackened hand, you gently, but insistently drag her towards the bathroom. Her footsteps are heavy on the floor as she reluctantly follows along. Something has obviously happened at work, you think, because she is just so stressed. You plan to make sure the water at least relaxes her muscles.

Once the water is warm enough and both of you have undressed in quiet silence (she has her showers so hot you can’t touch the water. You don’t understand how she can withstand such heat), you guide her into the shower, your touch as gentle as it’s always been. You listen to the barely audible sigh that escapes her when she feels the water touch her skin. “Good?” You murmur softly, smiling when you hear her hum in appreciation, her shoulders slowly slumping. You know Arlecchino well, it seems. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, the feeling is different than it usually is— the water is warm, her hand is somehow even warmer. In turn, your hand does the same, cupping her cheek with such softness it seems you’re barely touching her.

“I haven’t seen you like this in so long,” her voice is as smooth as it usually is, the same velvety tone despite the exhaustion. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are. Almost.” A chuckle leaves your throat at the wry smile that appears on her face. “You are stunning, but you must take better care of yourself, Peruere.” Your gentle chiding causes a huff to escape from her, a dismissal, you know that much. You open your mouth to chide her once more, but her lips swallow your words before you can even form a syllable. It’s a soft kiss, softer than the usual kisses she gives you. When you part, you can’t help but gasp and choke slightly at the water dripping onto your face, and into your mouth.

“Did you just swallow some?” She asks, a small chuckle rising in her throat. A hand comes up to gently shove her before you giggle, a sound that also is quickly drowned out by her lips. Her kiss is different this time, with more fervour and need in it. You let both of your hands wander until the meet and rest on the nape of her neck, fingers gently scratching at the wet hair strands. Arlecchino’s own hands gently guide you towards the wall, giving you respite against the relentless water stream. The air is thick with heat and steam, the mirrors fogged, but it seems neither of you are paying any attention to it. Her hands wander, tracing every part of your body she can reach. When you break for air, her lips take purchase on the skin of your neck, kissing and sucking gently marks onto it, marks you know will stay for a few days. You like it.

“You’re always so good to me,” she mumbles, nails slightly dragging against your skin. It feels good in a way you can’t explain. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You can’t see her face, but you can picture it, and the thought alone has you nodding breathlessly. Prying your legs gently apart, she lets out a breath against your neck, her voice changing to one that always has you melting.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it? You must be so desperate.” It’s a question that doesn’t need answering. You’re very well aware that you’ve spent nights trying— and failing, to recreate what she does to you. She’s aware because despite the water that wets your skin, you’re the wettest you’ve ever been when her middle finger glides across your folds, eliciting a small gasp from you. She hums, pleased at the sight of her finger glistening (before it is quickly washed away by the water) when she pulls it back. A whine practically rips from your throat when you feel her absence, and you begin to wonder how you’ve managed to become so desperate within minutes. On a usual day, she’d tease you until you begged for it, but all she wants is to see your face when you reach the peak of your orgasm. It’s the one thing she thinks about when she’s on her missions, or when she's sat at the office— the way you cry her name, her real name, the way you tremble. The thought causes her to make a sound you swear she’s never made before, a whimper.

Her finger moves back to where it was, caressing and moving through each fold until she’s circling your entrance. You’re grateful she clips her nails (she’d rip them off if you told her to). Arlecchino’s red crosses meet your own eyes, and her eyebrows twitch in question. When you nod in response, your hips moving slightly, the corners of her lips twitch slightly in a smile as she presses her finger in, then another. The noise that comes from you can only be described as unholy, and it drives Arlecchino on further. She lets you get used to the sensation before she curls her fingers up into the same spot you happen to miss every time you do it yourself. Your eyes fly open and your lips part, but she speaks before you can make noise.

“Shh, be quiet. The shower doesn’t muffle everything.” You know nobody will hear anyway, but she’s always liked the idea of you trying to stay as quiet as possible, the look on your face every single time a louder moan escapes you. Perhaps it’s some sort of fantasy she has, to get caught, or at the very least, the prospect of being caught. You’re ripped out of your thoughts when Arlecchino curls her fingers again, finding a rhythm that has you bucking your hips. She leans down, mouth attaching to one of your nipples, and she practically groans herself. The water has formed droplets on your skin, and she thinks it makes you look even more appealing. There seems to be something about you, in the shower, whispering her name that seems to get her. She swears she could practically orgasm herself just at the sight of you.

“Peruere, please,” comes the mewl from you, words mixed with shaking breath. She (and you, for that matter) feels you clenching around her, and it only drives her to continue. A hand comes to rest in the soaked strands of her hair, tugging gently, and she knows it’s a sign that you’re close. Again, she chuckles, releasing your chest and moving her lips back to your own. Her tongue touches your bottom lip, and when you, somehow, in your pleasure clouded mind, deepen the kiss, her thumb finds your clit. The pressure is light, and it takes only a couple of circular movements before your hand in her hair tightens, your voice rising to a soft cry as you finally get the orgasm you’ve been chasing (alone or not) for such a long time. Her movements continue until your gasping turns to heavy breathing, and your eyes manage to focus on her again. Only then does Arlecchino pull out her fingers, holding them up to show you, like she always does. She knows it embarrasses you, she can tell by the way you avert your gaze. And as expected, you practically choke on your own saliva when she doesn’t hesitate in cleaning her fingers. Not by running them under the water, but letting her tongue flicking out of her mouth to lap up the evidence of your pleasure.

“What are you— you can’t do that.” You sound practically horrified at the notion (like you haven’t spent nights with her fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet, or to do exactly what she’s doing now. You enjoy those. It isn’t so bad when you’re tasting yourself, for some reason). Eventually, when she sees your wide eyes, she relents, moving to run them under the water.

The water isn’t as hot anymore, having dulled to a lukewarm temperature. “The water bill will be high this month, I assume.” Arlecchino says it with such nonchalance that you can’t help but snort. Biting your lip, you join her in her joking. “I didn’t wash my hair. Warm it back up. I know you can.”

[tan1shere]

Tattoos

A/n: Was just listening to Agora Hills when I just had to write a little something about it - sorry if this isn't the best. Have this while I work on her favorite. I didn't know what to do at the end 😔

Warnings - smuttyish content ?! || masterlist

You thought you hid it well but you guess not. You were currently on your way home from a long shift at work. It was currently 8 pm. You open the door to your home and head in. You see her standing there infront of you, loose sweats and a loose button up shirt. She had done a few things today so probably just wanted to be comfortable with that and the sweatpants on. You look at her confused on why she's just standing there. "Hi babe." You say with caution. "Licking on her tattoos, or even my own." Whyd that sound so familiar.

"Maybe hitting and smacking too." Your face stays the same, utterly confused. "Hello to you to?" You walk further in when she flashes a black book. Your sex book. It was just some silly thing you had written in for laughs, even if deep down those were some actual fantasies of yours. "Oh..." How'd she even find it. You don't even remember where you last put it, it had been that long. "Got home earlier today and wanted to clean our room a bit. Then found this. Is it true?" You didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or nervous.

Her head tilts at you and that's when your nerves kicked in. Billie would never ever make you feel embarrassed over anything. "They might be." You fiddle with your fingers. "Yeah? You wanna lick my tattoos? The one on my spine." Your throat closes that was the exact one you were thinking of. That and the one on her upper. Upper. Thigh. "Where else?" She walks over to you slowly. "I uhm.. uh-" "My thigh one?" You look into her eyes, hers were droopy. "You didn't read it all right?" She smirks.

How dumb could you be right now. "Sure did baby. Got some interesting desires in here." Your head spins at the closeness, her lips being so close to your own. "You know, I think I wanna lick on that one tattoo of yours. You know what one I'm talking about. It's almost like mine." You gulp loudly. You had a tramp stamp on your lower back, she was talking about that. "You can.." You quietly utter. "Can I?" Her tone was mocking. You stay quiet. "I mean, i was planning to do so anyway." Then suddenly you were being slung over her shoulder. Heading straight for the bedroom. She lays you down, hovering over you hungrily.

Your breath catches as she hastily takes your pants off. Her hands reach to lift your shirt up a bit. "Bills." You sigh out, really wanting to be the one to kiss her dragon tat. "Patience, I'll give you what you want." You let out an annoyed whine, wanting to now. "Hey hey, don't be like that. Just want to admire you first. Then I'm all yours." You nod slowly, taking in her words. Calming down just slightly as her fingers run over your body. But you get impatient again.

"Baby let me lick on your tattoos."

She smirks at you as you say that, grabbing your waist and flipping you so you're straddling her. Your hands retract to the sides of her stomach. She smiles up at you. "Go on then, take my pants off." You gladly obey, starting to pull them both off. Your eyes land right on the tattoo, big and beautiful. Her hand cups your jaw. Swiping some drool that had escaped in the process. "Look at you, such a mess already and we haven't even started. Cute." She smirks at you, loving how your face relaxes into your hand like putty. "Go on baby, know you're dyin for it."

You nod yet again, moving your face to her thigh, your tongue darting out and licking slightly over the ink. She watches you intently, moving her hand into your hair, lacing it throughout. "That's it.." She says more so to herself. But you clearly hear it. Going mental inside. It made you wonder what else she'd be willing to do in the dumb little book of yours. Your tongue eagerly moves all over the dragon, slowly becoming dazed as you can smell her so close, your head moves. Going to just have a little lick but she grabs your face. "Just the tattoo." She was messing with you.

She knew how badly you wanted to taste her with your raging oral fixation. "But please.. The smells going to my head." You whine. She chuckles at you, faking a sad look. "Naww, is it making that stupid brain go fuzzy?" Another nod. "Shame, tattoo. Keep doing what you were doing." She was so tempting, you just wanted to have a little lick of her. But you adored how much she was enjoying the show of your licks on her tattoo. It was different for the both of you, something simple yet still effective. "There you go, so good at listening huh?" Your teeth retract going to bite, she lets out a breath but she sure as hell enjoyed the action. Biting her lip in the process.

You may not of gotten a taste of her that night but she got a taste of an amazing show.

[deathbxnny]

Our blood will drip from your hands. | Caitlyn x Fem!Reader (feat. Vi)

This is my official contribution to the Arcane Fandom and also my way of asking for requests. I hope you guys enjoy this!!<33

Summary: You befriended Caitlyn shortly after being taken in by an influential family in Piltover as a young child. You always believed that she saw you for who you were and not just for what you were. However, when she dared to appear in your home as your nation's newly appointed dictator, you realised that she was never any different herself.

Content: Heavy season 2 spoilers!!!!, Zaunite Reader, conflicting emotions, undefined relationship, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of grief on Caitlyn's side, childhood friends, racism/discrimination against Zaunites, slight Vi x Reader?, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

"Have you... Have you lost your mind, Caitlyn?" You never expected to end up like this with her. Conversations that were once filled with laughs, gentle words, and wide smiles now felt sinister and cold. You shivered slightly under her domineering gaze and yet stood your ground, a defiant flame from your past childhood burning in your heart. The silence that followed your question felt dangerous, that familiar fear sparking in you at the glinting of her pristine uniform under the moonlight in the garden she had trapped you in. It reminded you of the days in which you could feel only terror at the mere sight of it, rightfully so. But perhaps the years of being fed with a silver spoon had you slowly cooking like a frog in a pot, doomed to unknowingly perish from its own blissful ignorance.

And was it too late to jump out now?

When you saw the navy haired woman's jaw clench tightly in a show of brave self-restraint, you realised that, yes, it was way too late for you.

Things went downhill the moment Caitlyn introduced you to Vi, you concluded. There was an instant bond you had with the woman, a bond only two of the same kin and background could have, despite your different upbringing. You remembered the night the three of you sat in these grand gardens of yours, the privilege of the fresh air filling your lungs weighing heavy on your consciousness as she spoke of her past. You recognized the places she mentioned, felt the emotions that ran through her, and shared the silent, familiar fear of the uniformed devil's with ease. You spoke of things the Kirammann could never understand, and you believed that it was alright that she didn't.

Caitlyn didn't say a word while you two spoke, her face betraying no negative emotion as she just simply gripped onto your gloved hand tightly. Foreshadowing, you had missed perhaps in hindsight. You had foolishly hoped that she saw you both as people, regardless of where you hailed from. You realise now that your wishful thinking had made you painfully naive.

The veil had finally been lifted from your eyes now and revealed the truth you've been denying for so long. And why did it take you so much time to realise it anyway? Why did it have to be Caitlyn's disgusted look to shake you awake?

Why didn't you just listen to Vi when she appeared at your doorstep hours earlier, a shell of what she once, as she practically cried in your arms? You never thought you'd see the day in which a fellow Zaunite would willingly degrade themselves so terribly by wearing the uniform of their oppressors. But why did you always make an exception for Caitlyn then, if you hated seeing Vi as one?

She had left shortly after, leaving you crying in frustration and betrayal when she told you how they used the ventilation system against your own people. They had flooded the streets with that toxic smog, hurt people more than they already were, and potentially even killed some for what? And unfortunately... the woman before you was the mastermind of it all.

Grief was a terrible thing. It really was. And yet, there was no excuse for this.

Your mind spun, legs threatening to give out at any moment. You should have run after Vi. You shouldn't have stayed here for a moment longer. But you had deluded yourself into thinking that it was all just a misunderstanding. That you had heard it wrong. Even if you couldn't look away from the devil anymore that you once lovingly called your best friend... or perhaps even more?

Slightly stumbling backward with a faint sigh, Caitlyn was quick to grab onto your hip, yet you flinched out of her grasp quicker than you could process it. It was a relfex on both of your sides. "No, don't you dare touch me after what you've... what you will do." You couldn't stand being near her as the panic set in, and you were desperate to get away. You never thought that you'd come to this point. You never thought that you'd learn to hate her so suddenly. It made you sick.

She reluctantly let her hand fall back to her side, and it unnerved you then that she had yet to say a thing. Did she perhaps feel guilty after all? Was she perhaps reflecting? A glance into her eyes reconfirmed that you were indeed wrong about her once again. You needed to stop dreaming. Your life up here has blinded you too much.

"... You weren't there today." You knew that she meant the councilor meeting with all the other noble houses. Your adoptive parents had gone as well, albeit without you. They were in clear disagreement with the entire situation themselves, and yet social pressure was a curse. Turning away from her, you found the energy to scoff. "And what of it? Do you expect me to stand there and cheer? Support a potential mass killing of innocent people?" "I am keeping us safe. I'm keeping you safe. There is nothing innocent about them." Her voice was raised and sharp, nothing like you had ever heard before. The adrenaline was making your body shake dangerously, and you started becoming aware of how angry you were. You hadn't felt like this in years. And here you thought you were used to their hate, too.

"So you are willing to murder hundreds over Jinx? Because that's what this is all about, isn't it? Revenge?" You got it right. It was all just for that. She was willing to disgrace her own ancestors' life work to fill the void left behind by her mother’s absence. "... I am doing all of this so no one has to get hurt again. We are left with no other choice. They are too dangerous-" "-Then why am I any different? What am I, if you view us as nothing but animals?" Silence. Just as expected, she never thought that far. Or maybe she simply considered you one of the better ones. The one whose blood was saved by the kindness of your parents in Piltover. You weren't tainted anymore. You were perfect because this place allowed you to be.

"... Why can you just not see all I'm doing for us? I... don't make me turn on you, too. You are better than this." You let out a laugh, one that could've sent down a shiver down anyone's spine. Even Caitlyn's, if she wasn't so tense and rigid now. Vi was right. She truly had changed for the worse. And god did it hurt.

"I loved you, Cait. I really did. And I understand the pain you've gone through after the loss of your mother. I stood at your side on the day of the funeral. I felt your agony." What should've been a confession filled with relief and happiness, now simply left a bitter taste in your mouth. "But I refuse to keep standing at your side if it means to see your hands stain with the blood of my people. You are a puppet, Caitlyn. The warlord has taken over your mind. The strings around your neck will tighten until it snuffs out the rest of your soul. And I will not be there to help you out of it this time." You don't care to hear her next words or even look her in the face as a last goodbye. Your Caitlyn died with her mother, buried beneath endless flower petals, safe and far away from the monster that appeared in her stead.

Your calm steps suddenly picked up the pace, and you found yourself running away, your frilly dress bunched up in your arms, chest heaving with the sobs you couldn't hide anymore. You ignored her call for your name, the demanding order pushing you much farther away until all you could hear were your panicked steps over the marble floor and the faint singing of the cicadas coming to a close.

Caitlyn stood there for the longest time, her stern gaze frozen in the direction you had disappeared in before she tipped her hat over her eyes and left.

You'll understand one day, she supposed.

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Runaways

You didn’t know how to explain to Mr. Wayne that his two sons, Jason and Duke, snuck out of the house in search of you. 

You had taken the day off to attend your friend’s wedding, which had been fun until your third drink. No sooner had you tipped the glass to your lips did a little old lady tap you on the shoulder saying that two young men were looking for you. Intrigued by the prospect of being sought out by handsome men, you followed her to an empty room. There, the boys were sitting and eating away at some cake. 

It took you a few moments to realize that they were there all by themselves, and all at once shock mixed with panic rushed through you. Once the relief of finding them alright had passed, you scolded them to the point that both boys were in near tears. Between long lectures you would pull them into hugs, saying how glad you were that they were alright.

“Oh, what were you thinking!” You exclaimed when you let them go. “You could have gotten lost or kidnapped. Mr. Wayne would have my head—Mr. Wayne! The man is going to have a stroke.”

When you went to find a phone, Duke burst into tears as he mumbled that he didn’t want to get into trouble. Jason, as he tried to comfort his brother, had started to cry, too. By the time you returned, the pair could hardly string a sentence along together without hyperventilating. Even when you assured them that everything would be okay, they still refused to calm down. You had hoped that maybe seeing their father would help them, but he had made the situation worse. Mr. Wayne had come barreling through the doors already demanding to know what had crossed their minds to do such a thing. 

“Don’t shout,” You snapped, stroking Jason’s hair and rubbing Duke’s back. “They already know they’re in trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason gasped out between heavy breaths as he reached out for his father. Bruce didn’t let his anger stop him from pulling the boy into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He pulled Duke from your arms toward him, mumbling to his boys that he was glad that they were safe. 

“I—I’m sorry, Dad,” Duke cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

You shushed him before suggesting to Mr. Wayne that the four of you go outside to the car lest curious guests look in. He seemed to quietly fight the idea at first, wanting an explanation no matter who watched but gave in at the sight of his poor boys. You carried Duke while Bruce carried Jason, who was looking over his father’s shoulder at you. 

There was little hassle getting them buckled into the car since Bruce had threatened them with an even bigger punishment if they didn't behave from that moment on. You knew he wouldn’t, but the threat had sounded real enough for them to comply. As soon as you began closing the car door Duke kicked his foot to stop it.  

Duke, weeping, said, “No! Stay!”

You had tried to explain that you couldn’t, that you needed to stay for the rest of your friend’s wedding, but they weren’t listening. Finally, you asked, “Why are you two acting this way? I was coming home later tonight!”

Jason, who was a bit more coherent, said, “Dick said you don’t love us, and you only spend time with us because you get paid.” 

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you shot a look over at Mr. Wayne. “Do you wanna have that talk with Richard when you get home, or would you rather it be me?” Bruce only sighed before turning his back to you and the boys. Shaking your head, you said, “I get paid to watch you kids, yes, but that does not mean I don't love you.” 

“Really?” Jason asked. 

You kissed his forehead and said, “Really.” Tugging at the buckles of the car seats, you made sure they were secure. “Be good for your Dad. You guys gave him quite a scare.”

“Okay,” They said in unison. 

Once the car door swung shut, you looked at Mr. Wayne with a coy smile. He only returned the light-hearted gesture by narrowing his eyes and frowning. 

“Don’t lie to my kids like that. I don’t want you hurting their feelings,” He said as he rounded the car to the driver’s side. 

“I wasn’t,” You tried to say, but he had already started the car. You didn’t know if it was the drink or your annoyance of his hot and cold temper towards you. It made you want to scream at him, to get him to stop shoving whatever feelings he had with having a nanny, and to say them to you outright. Instead of going to him, you decided to go back into the venue for another drink. 

You told yourself you hadn’t meant to drink as much as you did, but you couldn’t help it when the wedding was getting to be so much fun. The drama had gotten heated, the bar was endless, and it only doomed you from there. By the end of it, you were sober enough to call a cab yet not to walk in a straight line or not slur your words. When you returned to Wayne Manor you tried to be quiet getting in, but that only resulted in you running into the entranceway table. After skillfully saving a vase from toppling over, you began to remove your coat. 

“When did coats get to be so hard to take off,” You mumbled to yourself, trying to shrug off your jacket, but it had gotten caught on your purse. 

“Are you okay,” A voice asked. 

Jumping, you tried to whip around to see who it was but tripped on your own feet. Luckily, hands caught you before you could fall to the floor. Looking up, you noticed it was Mr. Wayne, and you loathed to see him. 

“I’m fine,” You said, standing straight. “Thank you.”

“You’re drunk,” He pointed out like you didn’t already know. You rolled your eyes before trying to get your coat off again, but you only ended up stumbling right into Mr. Wayne’s chest. Mumbling an apology, you started to try again before he told you to stop. Mr. Wayne then slowly took off your purse and took your coat, throwing them on the table. “Come on.”

You hadn’t expected him to loop an arm around your waist and help you up the stairs. He was kind about it, too, which left you even more confused. “I love the kids, you know.”

“What?” Mr. Wayne asked, his tone mixed with genuine confusion and irritation. 

You gulped. “Earlier you said not to lie about loving the kids, but I wasn’t lying.” 

He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he would just leave it there. But, after you made it up to the first landing of the stairs, he said, “I know. It’s…I don’t want my kids getting hurt if things go bad. Do you understand?”

“I do,” You grumbled, swaying a bit. His grip tightened around your waist and he pulled you more into him. “You’re a good father. I’d like to have you as my dad.”

He managed a smile. “A lot of people would.”

You giggled before you hiccuped. When you looked back up at Mr. Wayne to see if he noticed, he was holding back a chuckle. You groaned, before saying, “I didn’t mean to come home this way.”

“Yes, you did,” He corrected and the two of you finally made it to the first floor. “But, don’t worry about it. You’re good at your job, and this isn’t an often occurrence.”

“Plus, it’s my day off,” You added. 

He agreed with you that it was, indeed, your day off. When the two of you had made it to your bedroom door, there was a brief pause as Mr. Wayne considered whether or not it would be appropriate for him to enter your room. After you failed to open the door, he decided that no harm would be done. You fell onto the bed before kicking off your heels with a satisfied groan. 

Bruce was going to leave you until you called out, “Mr. Wayne.” He stopped, kneeling over you as you spoke. Your eyes were closed and you were slurring through every word.“Are Duke and Jason okay?”

It was sweet that you still were concerned for them. “They were upset when they got their games taken away.”

“Jason will be fine. He never played games much.”

“That’s why I told him no new books for a month.” Bruce paused before adding, “I apologize for saying you didn’t love the kids.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Apology accepted, but just this once…We’re friends, you know? Even though you’re my boss. I won’t betray you. I pinky promise on my life. We’re in this together, old man.”

Bruce tried not to dwell too much on the old man part of your sentiment. “Thank you, Nan. I appreciate that.”

“Very good, Mr. Wayne,” You said. “Good night.”

He was going to take that as his cue to leave the conversation, but your drunken brain had other ideas. You were quick to lean up and peck him on the lips before he even had a chance to say goodnight. All at once he felt a range of emotions; confusion, surprise, and embarrassment. You were so nonchalant about the whole situation, probably not having realized it had happened, that you simply turned over to sleep. Quickly, Bruce used that as an excuse to not bring it up since you were more than likely not to remember it by the next morning. 

Right as he was going to step out the door, you called him back. He poked his head into your room again and felt his heart flush when you asked, “Did I just kiss you?”

For his sake and yours, he answered, “No.”

You hummed before dropping your head back onto the pillow. Closing the door, Bruce reminded himself that the last thing he needed to be doing was thinking about an employee in such a romantic way. 

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[big-sis-milly]

Big sister who follows you around the morning you have to get ready for school, she's silent and even more brooding than usual, but always staying close to you, to the point of getting in the way at times.

You try to glance up at her every once in a while, her face giving no clue to what she's thinking, something between a near animalistic curiosity and... hunger? Desperation? Like a lost puppy. A puppy who won't admit they're attached to you.

You slip into the bathroom, hoping that your big sister has some remaining dignity in this state. Your heart skips a beat when you hear the muffled 'thud' of something stopping the door from closing, but she's not coming in. Thank god.

As soon as you get up and start washing your hands, she opens the door, nearly ramming herself against you. She's somehow even closer now, practically leaning over you as she watches you with that same odd expression. You can feel her hands, trembling just inches away from your body, her breath spreading goosebumps from the base of your neck.

"M... missed... you..." She mumbles under her breath. Her dark hair hanging in disorganized curtains over her face. You try to tell her it's only been a few minutes, but you're not sure if she's really listening.

"Love you... s-sis... lo...love..." You let her know that you love her too, you really do, but you really have to start going n-

"No. N-no. Can't leave..." She croaks. It sounds like her voice hasn't been used in a few days, or any other bodily action, in fact.

You huff at her. Big sis is being very unreasonable, I mean, you're gonna be back home in a few hours anyways!

Her breath hitches, fingers so gingerly pressing into your waist now, like she's terrified to use her hands.

"Nononono, t-too long." She sniffles, whining softly into your hair. You know she's trying to let you be more independent, she's probably just having a bad day. It's hard to not let her have her way when she gets bad like this, but you can't miss school again.

Sis, please-

A warm pair of arms wrap around you, equally tense and careful. She's treating you like you're made of glass. Her voice breaks, she knows how she's acting and just can't help it. "I'm s-so sorryyyy... stay... please..? Please..." You stare into the mirror in front of you, and you realize that your big sister has been taking awful care of herself. She must be really sad that you're going. Is that the reason she hasn't been leaving her room?

Your big sister finally closes the gap between you two, her entire body radiating heat. You didn't realize how cold your back was until now. It feels like heaven. But you have to fight back, she can't win again. You try to struggle out of her grasp, but she's holding on so tight and you're so close and so fucking warm that you can't help but arch your back just a little, grinding your butt against the growing bulge in your sister's sweatpants. She growls into your neck as your lower halves meet in the middle.

"Why... do you have to be- nnghh~ such a fucking tease..."

Your hen twitches at the sound of her voice, beginning to leave a dark stain in the lap of your dress.

"Bitch... stupid whore little sister... n-not fair..." She says inbetween sobs, dry humping you in earnest. One of her arms snake up your body, tracing her hand over your stomach, your breasts, up to your neck and finally cupping your cheek, her fingers finding no resistance in entering your pretty little mouth.

"Need you, need you, m-mine... mine mine mine minemineminemine..."

You look back up to the mirror, seeing a helpless little whore being used by her poor, lonely big sister. How could you have been so cruel? What's another day, a week, a whole month of missed classes? As long as your big sister needs you, you'll be there for her <3

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hai^^ I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could make one about 80s slash x reader? And how the reader’s parents and slash’s mom were friends and forced them to meet each other?

When the reader sees slash - she kinda into him and the more she stares at him the more attractive gets and slash is a bit older than her and finds her funny and weird as he notices that she’s been staring at him the whole time during dinner.

It isn’t until they’re left alone that they start talking to each other and slash makes playful gestures and teases towards her? With smut and fluff of course :P

I hope that’s not a lot^^ anyways whenever you get the time^^

A/n: I wrote this in class and barely finished so the end is kind of shit

Warnings: smut, arranged marriage trope(ish), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

I think I’ve used this before but no I didn’t bc I said so

Ever since you were young, around twelve, there was always this pressure to be with someone, relatives coming by and asking where your boyfriend was. It was annoying and you couldn’t get away from it.

Your parents only got worse as you got older, inviting friends over with suitors. Annoying old men shoving money and power in your face, none of it was ever for you they just wanted to show you what they had. They didn’t care about you.

This dinner was just like any other, you had to get all dressed up to meet some guy your parents knew. He’d be old, creepy and wasting away, just wanting someone to bed whenever he wanted, someone to beat, who he could show around town as he pleased.

You were in your room, getting ready as per usual. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, pristine and proper, white floral dress and golden makeup. Just once you wanted to do something bigger, something harsher.

The doorbell rang and you were called down to meet the guests. You say yourself at the table, ready to meet the next suitor to leave.

A woman walked through, she was gorgeous and had a beautiful smile, behind her came a man with bigger hair than his mother. He shared those big, dark eyes, full lips, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t dressed up all fancy, he wore jeans and a leather jacket over a Ramones shirt that was torn up and well loved, to say the least.

You weren’t allowed to listen to the Ramones, devils music you were told. This man was the devil incarnate and you were certain he’d be the one to take you away.

Your mother sat down next to you and placed a hand on your knee, leaning into you. “Don’t you dare go looking at this one all puppy eyed, I gave you good men you will not be falling for this monstrosity.” She said through gritted teeth, but her warning was moot, you’d already made up your mind.

The dinner went as every other did, your mother would ask questions and listen closely to the answers, except she didn’t. She didn’t care what this man, Saul was his name, had to say.

You sat idly by and ate, gaze flickering over to him all too frequently, he was sure to notice but he didn’t bring it up or look back at you.

His voice didn’t match his appearance. He was soft spoken and only spoke when told to, he rarely looked up from his plate and when he did he didn’t make eye contact.

Saul Hudson to be wed, you could see it in the papers now.

“I play guitar in a band.” He said, it broke through your day dreaming haze.

“You-you play..?” Your mother sputtered out, unable to even finish her sentence.

Saul nodded, a wide grin on his face and he looked up at you, still not making eye contact. His gaze flicked from your lips down to your shoulders, you didn’t dare guess where else he was looking. “Big band, Guns N’ Roses.” He clarified. “Playing stadiums now.” His mother smiled proudly over at him.

You wiped your mouth on a napkin and stood, quietly excusing yourself from the table. The food was gone and what was left needed to be packed away now anyway, you were just leaving it for other people.

You went to your room and sat down at your desk once more, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something new filled you, you wanted his attention, all of it. You wanted to run with him, to venture with him. He’d take you all over with his band and he’d love you. He was gentle and he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t flaunt his money, only buy you jewelry for your birthday and flowers when he loved you, just because.

You dug through your drawers and tried to find something… big, a statement piece for your face. Your attention snapped to the door as it opened and Saul walked in.

He was hesitant at first, staring at you bent over a desk drawer and digging through it like a mad man. He came over and stood just beside you, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked through the drawers for you.

Saul pulled out a deep red lipstick. He brought a finger under your chin and tilted your head for him to see you properly.

You were struck, in your core a pulse came with a heat, a desire, but you snapped out of it quick enough to wipe the gloss you already had off your lips so he’d have a bare canvas to work with.

He smiled down at you and got to work, using the tip yo outline your lips before filling them in.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, Saul now stood behind you with his hands on your hips. He didn’t look in the mirror, he stared at you in front of him, the side of your face and how pleased you seemed with his work.

You turned back to him. “Do more.” You asked, drawing a chuckle from him and he shook his head, by god you made him laugh and you wanted to hear it again and again for as long as you lived.

“I don’t know anymore.” He said, bringing his hands to your shoulders and turning you around again. He leaned down to you, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “You do it, you can’t mess up when it’s just gonna be running down your face in a minute anyway.”

You paused a moment and looked back to him. “Why? Will you make me cry?” He nodded confidently, you looked back to the mirror. “Why would you do that? Will you leave?” You asked curiously.

“More than one way to make someone cry.” He said, rubbing your shoulders. He inhaled deeply, taking in your saddened expression, you clearly didn’t get what he was referring to. He’d just have to show you once you looked the part, well enough the part anyway, you didn’t have the clothes.

“Heavier on the eyes.” He said as you tapped on a bright red, something to connect the lipstick while still being different. You picked up your pencil liner but he took it from you and had you turn towards him. “Gimme a second.” He said with a smile, being careful to not poke you in the eye as he worked.

He was giggling when he turned you back to the mirror. You had a leopard print on your eyelids and whiskers on your cheeks. The print on your eyes was pretty, neat and well done, the whiskers were an afterthought he was enjoying much too much.

You stood up and turned to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, he couldn’t say no to that.

He wasn’t a gentleman, not by a long shot, he was just sweet. The first chance he got his hands were on your ass, pulling your dress up over your head and not caring if he smudged it, not one bit.

Your arms went around his neck and he lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed and laid you down.

He was laying over you, an arm holding him up by your head, his other hand moved down between your legs, rubbing through your folds and catching your clit, feeling how wet you already were for him.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, already starting to trail kisses up your jaw towards your ear. You hesitated before slowly shook your head, hoping it wouldn’t make him stop. Luckily he didn’t and just sucked his teeth. “Well, I don’t feel like slowing down for you.” He said sitting back up and undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his dick to spring free, of course he didn’t wear boxers. “Just tell me if it hurts.” He said as he pushed into you, groaning as he did.

Despite his words he did give you a minute to adjust to him, running his hands up and down yours sides until he felt you were ready and he started moving, slow at first but he couldn’t keep that pace for long.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, tugging you closer to him as his hips slammed into yours, each thrust bringing you closer to an edge you’d never seen before.

He was perfect above you, full lips, bruised just like yours, parted ever so slightly in soft, low grunts and groans. Sweat clung to his curls just around his face, the rest of his mane framing his sharp jaw. His teeth were crooked and he didn’t look right at you, focusing on feeling good, making you feel good.

You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but this was definitely the best you’d ever felt. Free, and it felt so good. You reached down and found your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Saul chuckled over you and nodded in approval. “Just keep doing that, keep doing that.” He said. You could feel him inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, cunt pulling him in for more, every time he pulled away you sucked him back in.

You melted into the mattress, vision going white and when you came doing from it you felt something warm spilling out inside you, Saul’s face tucked into you and he kissed over your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.

Finally he pulled away and pulled away and sat up, fixing his pants before heading out to your balcony. You saw he was smoking, he just looked so… you couldn’t even describe it.

You got your dress back on and went out to stand with him.

He smiled at you when you came out, he held the cigarette out for you but took it away before you got the chance to get it. “No way in hell am I letting you do that.” He said with a laugh.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you as he took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said.

He nodded, looking out on the cities lights below. Your house was up on a mountain, giving you a good view all around. “I bet it’s a pretty night for you every night.”

You smirked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you live here, you see it every night.” That’s not what you were expecting.

You looked back out to the city. “I want to see more… with you, Saul.”

He let out a heavy sigh, he wanted you with him too. You were intriguing to him, you needed a chance to rebel and he knew you would never stay with him, not after growing up like this, but he could be the one with you to see the world and that was enough. “Slash.” He said. “If you’re coming with me you call me Slash.”

“Slash.” You repeated. “Slash Hudson.” He might regret this, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything.

[lovelyjj]

💔

Having JJ as your boyfriend was exhilarating. There was never a dull moment. You loved each other with every fiber of your being. The two of you were soulmates, destined to be together. JJ brought out the best in you. JJ wanted to be a better man for you because you deserved the world. You have been dating for a while now. It was nothing short of amazing. Not only did you love each other, you wanted a future together.

Your sex life was truly unbelievable. It was mind blowing. JJ was a expert. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He always made you feel comfortable and listened to what felt good. Having sex with JJ was magical. Two people making love and enjoying each other’s company. JJ did his best to make you happy and focused on your pleasure.

The two of were in JJ’s room at the château, lounging in JJ’s bed. JJ was tracing shapes on your thigh. You were cuddling. Both of you were enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. JJ breaks the silence by saying, “I love you so much baby, so glad I have you by my side.” “I love you too,” you replied. JJ cups your face and leans in for a kiss. Your lips crush together in a messy kiss. JJ feels so lucky to have you. He feels his heart beat faster. Your stomach does little flips and you feel tingly as you make out.

JJ’s tongue slides into your mouth. Your tongues dance together as you kiss. “Need you so bad baby,” JJ pulls back a little and whispers over your lips. You smile at his words and run a hand through his hair. “Can I take this off?” JJ asks pulling at your shirt. “Yes.”

JJ removes your shirt leaving you in your lacey black bra. Then JJ takes off his shirt revealing his toned abs. You place your hands on his stomach and run your fingers over his abs causing JJ to chuckle. JJ starts to kiss your neck sucking deep purple marks onto your skin. JJ pushed your bra straps off your shoulders and unclipped it. He kissed both of your breasts and massaged them with his hands.

You arched your back pushing your boobs into JJ’s hand and let out a soft moan. “Need to be inside you,” JJ pants. You nod your head and remove your shorts. JJ slides his pants off along with his boxers. You lay on your back as JJ hovers over you. He lines his cock at your entrance. “Ready for me baby?”

“Yes.” JJ slowly entered you with a deep groan. He gives you a minute to adjust before he moves. Then JJ pulls all the way out just to slam back in. He sets a brutal pace as he fucks you deep and raw. You squeezed around him and JJ saw stars. “You feel so good,” JJ exclaimed.

JJ easily slid in and out with how wet you were. You could tell he was getting close with the way his dick was twitching. He could tell you were getting close because your walls were spasming. “I’m gonna cum,” JJ breathed.

“Give it to me,” you begged. JJ thrusted again and again as he released deep inside you. “Oh god, baby… Yes… Tiffany… Yes…” JJ yelled as he came. He continued to move through his release drawing it out.

“Who is Tiffany?” You paused absolutely shocked and sick to your stomach.

JJ freezes, realizes his mistake. His eyes widen as he processes what he just said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Tiffany was my ex. We broke up years ago.” He looks at you with a pained expression. “Please forgive me.”

“JJ what the fuck?!” You were furious. How could he have done this to you. You thought he loved you.

JJ pulls out and puts some sweats on. He starts pacing the room. "I don't know what came over me. It was a slip of the tongue, I swear. Tiffany and I haven't been together in so long. You mean everything to me."

“Hmm,” you speak.

He stands still, running a hand through his hair in distress. "I know I messed up badly. Calling out her name while making love to you... It's unforgivable. I'm so sorry." He looks at you imploringly. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

“Im thinking how can you love me when your thinking about another girl. how can this happen? i thought you loved me and only me now i’m not so sure.”

His expression turns agonized. "No, no, baby, please don't think that. I love you with all my heart. Tiffany is just a ghost from my past. I never loved her the way I love you. Please, please believe me. I'm begging you."

“I’ll have to think about it.”

He nods solemnly, his heart breaking. "I understand. I've given you reason to doubt me and that kills me. Take all the time you need to think. I'll be here, hoping and praying that you'll forgive me someday. I never meant to hurt you. You're my whole world.”

You stand up and get dressed. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

He watches helplessly as you walk to the couch, his heart heavy with sorrow. "Baby, please... Don't do this. We can talk, work through this together. The couch is not the answer." He follows you, kneeling beside the couch.

“I think i just need some space.” You admit.

“Oh um okay, I’ll be just in the next room if you need me, again i’m so sorry,” JJ replied sadly. He never felt so guilty and ashamed.

JJ went to sleep that night thinking of ways he could prove to you he loved you and to win you back. He couldn’t loose you and that’s what scared him the most. He didn’t think he would survive loosing you.

[supercap2319]

"You're in the Void. Think of it as purgatory. Reed called it a metaphysical junkyard where anything useless goes before it gets annihilated forever. And where the TVA sends people that don't play nice with the rest of the Multiverse." Johnny explained as you both walk through the desert, his blue cloak swishing around him.

"How do I escape?"

Johnny chuckles and shakes his head "Escape the Void? Kid, you're already trapped in a cosmic junkyard - escaping isn't exactly on the agenda. Plus, the TVA tends to keep a pretty tight leash on misfits like us."

"I don't care. I need to get home. My friends need me," You said.

The guy who looked like Steve sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair "Listen, I get it. We all have people waiting for us out there. But trust me, I've tried everything. My powers don't work the same here and the Void has a way of... wearing you down."

"Is there someone who is in charge here?" You asked.

"Oh, there's someone in charge alright. Her name's Cassandra Nova. She's a mutant with some seriously nasty psionic powers. Nova's been running this hellhole like her own personal kingdom."

"Mutant?"

"Yeah, you know - superhuman powers, genetic mutations, that whole nine yards. Nova's got a real knack for manipulating minds and bending people to her will. She's the reason we're all stuck here, doing her bidding." Johnny's expression darkened, and he hesitated before speaking again. "So with Alioth and her running this place, escape is impossible. She's been trying to get me for a while now."

"What's your name?"

"Johnny. Johnny Storm. Member of the Fantastic Four."