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noisilyscreechingsong · 3 months ago

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Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #damian wayne #red robin #dc robin #story ideas #Danny sees ghosts #it’s his way of helping #medium #homeless #runaway #batburger

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qingyuns · 26 days ago

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— i won’t let you fall down, unless you’re in my arms

alternatively, the 3 times kinich saved you from falling and the 1 time that he was the one who fell

pairing: kinich x gn!reader, wc: 2.8k, two or three swear words, reader has a pyro vision because mualani kinich reader burgeon team is a funny hc i have, ajaw makes 2 brief appearances, fluffy but ig they don’t do that much?? pre-relationship and confessions (does this count as a confession), title from an nct dream song (rains in heaven), pls reblog ty

1) The fall that was Pacha’s fault

You were never one to back down from a challenge, not when your pride was on the line. And presently, it was. It was an unfortunate mistake on your part when you’d been a little too cocky, bragging about your rock climbing skills, and as an even more unfortunate result, a friend of yours from the Scions of the Canopy had decided to dare you to climb an actual cliff near his village.

“I’ve got all the equipment,” Pacha had exclaimed. “If you’re really that good, then this should be no sweat.”

You’d narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t tell if his smile was mocking or not.

“No problem.”

But now, as you looked up and tried to find another edge to grasp at, you were wishing you had backed down. Seriously, this cliff was just a flat canvas of orange. What were you supposed to hold onto?

“Stupid Pacha,” you hissed to yourself as you reached for a bump in the cliff face. “Stupid cliff.”

Man, you wished you had a Geo vision. Then you could probably create some kind of ledge to rest on. Or maybe an Anemo one would be more useful. You could make yourself float to the top.

You were also never one to be afraid of heights, but as you glanced down, your heart jolted at the distance between you and the ground. Too high. Much, much too high. Your Pyro vision hung uselessly at your hip.

A second glance told you that Pacha was no longer anywhere to be found, and you cursed him under your breath.

“Okay, don’t panic. Just don’t panic and don’t fall,” you huffed. “Easy enough.”

Your palms were moist, your fingers were suddenly too smooth. And just when you risked a second to wipe your hand dry on your leg….

….the other one slipped, and you were falling.

The organ in your chest seemed to stop. This is it, you thought, I’m dead. You were falling, and falling and falling, until suddenly, while your eyes were squeezed shut and your stomach was leaping like a wild Koholasaurus in water, you were flying.

It took you a second for your brain to orient itself, to realise that you weren’t in fact dead yet, but when it did, you felt an arm wrapped securely around your waist, so tight that it was almost painful. You peeled your eyelids open. In your limited view, your saviour was nothing more than a head of dark hair and a blur of green attire. The surrounding cliffs were reduced to blobs of colour as you were swung through the air, down then up, down then up, until your feet were once again on solid ground.

Your knees almost collapsed once you were, and both of your saviour’s arms moved to steady you. A blink. Two blinks. You waited for your breathing to return to normal, then your eyes flitted up to meet theirs.

A kaleidoscope of green and gold greeted you. Huh, pretty.

Your saviour let out a strangled sound, something between a choke and a grunt, and released you. Oh. Had you said that out loud?

“Uh, sorry,” you coughed awkwardly. You took a step back, fiddling with your fingers. “Thanks for saving me.”

With the bandana that was tied over his forehead, it was difficult to discern his emotions. He gave you a curt nod. “You should be more careful.”

A distant yell made both of your hands turn, and you saw the tiny figure of Pacha rapidly approaching and waving his hand at you. By the time he’d closed the distance, which to his credit only took about eight seconds (so he must have felt at least a little guilty about almost letting you die), the guy beside you had vanished.

“Are you okay?” Pacha exclaimed as he skidded to a stop in front of you. You nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief, before looking around curiously. “Was that Kinich?”

2) The fall that was a Tepetlisaurus’ fault

The next time you met Kinich (‘Malipo’ Kinich, a Saurian Hunter who according to Pacha, was transactional, blunt and borderline reclusive), you were on the cliffs by the Children of the Echoes, picking Saurian Claw Succulents as a favour for a new friend of yours, a sweet young girl by the name of Kachina.

And maybe you shouldn’t have been crouching so close to the edge of a cliff, but how you were supposed to know that a Tepetlisaurus burrowing in the earth would come straight for your footing and uproot you, effectively tossing you off the side? Really, it wasn’t your fault! It was just some kind of ninja saurian.

This was only the second time you’d ever fallen off the side of a cliff, but for some reason, you were hardly surprised when the same person came to your rescue this time.

He looked at you blankly as you clutched at the succulent in your hand, eyes darting around to avoid prolonged eye contact. You were sure he probably had an eyebrow raised under his bandana.

“Do you make it a habit to throw yourself off every cliff you come across?”

You flinched. “Well, no.”

His arms crossed over his chest, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes were drawn to the tattoos exposed on his biceps. The teal suited him, you thought absently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a screeching voice. “Well, what’s your problem, then!”

A flashing myriad of yellow and green flitted into the air. The creature that had popped up from behind Kinich was … strange, to say the least. A strange, blocky thing. It looked strangely flat, like a hundred tiny, flat, square blocks. Were you going insane?

Kinich sent an annoyed glance towards the creature, before looking back at you to see that your mouth was now agape as you stared.

“Oh, right. You haven’t met Ajaw.”

“Oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling fainter than you had when falling off the cliff, “so this is Ajaw.”

The blocky creature expanded around the middle (you supposed that was the equivalent of puffing out its chest). “Aha! So you’ve heard of the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, have you? Tell me, peasant, what have you been told? That I’m ferocious and powerful?”

Kinich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You blinked at the creature. You thought back to what Pacha had said – “Ajaw. He’s Kinich’s saurian companion. Really weird little guy. Super annoying.”

“Yeah,” you assented, “something like that.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kinich sighed. It took you a second to realise that he wasn’t talking to you.

“Maybe you should shut up, Kinich!” Ajaw’s eyes angled themselves into a glare, and he fluttered around agitatedly.

The response he received was a flick of a gloved hand, which sent the Saurian soaring into the sky, until you couldn’t even see him anymore. You were pretty sure you’d never blinked as much in your life as you had in the last five minutes.

Kinich turned to you. “Sorry about him.”

“Um, that’s alright,” you said half-heartedly.

“So how come you’ve fallen off another cliff?”

Yikes. He must have thought you were either insanely insane or tremendously stupid.

“A Saurian knocked me off the side when I was picking succulents,” you muttered, cheeks flushing with heat.

He hummed. You weren’t quite sure what that meant. “And the other time?”

“Um, my friend dared me to climb the cliff. So I did.” You winced. “But I swear, these are the only times I’ve ever fallen off a cliff.”

It was a sentence you never thought you’d have to say. How embarrassing. You waited for the inevitable scolding or mocking to fall upon your ears, but then—

“Alright,” Kinich nodded easily. “Maybe try to avoid cliffs from now on."

Then he turned around, and started walking away. The sudden departure made you recoil in shock. Was the conversation over? Pacha really wasn't exaggerating when he said Kinich was reclusive.

"Huh? Wait a second!" You weren't sure what came over you in that moment, but you had a startling feeling that you couldn't let him leave here.

He paused, and turned to look at you, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Um, hold on." You thought for a moment. How to make him stay for longer? "Are you free right now? I'd like to treat you to a meal, if possible. You know, to thank you."

Your hands clasped in front of you and you fiddled with your fingers.

Kinich blinked slowly for a moment and stared at you. For a horrible moment, you thought he was going to decline, in which case you would have had to turn tail and flee on the spot, but instead, he nodded.

"I have some time."

You brightened. "Great! I know this place that has the best tatacos!"

There was a light skip in your movements as you began to lead the way, trusting that he was following you. You could only hope he didn't eat too much. You weren't sure your pockets could afford it, and you'd hate to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of him by being too broke to pay. What a horrible first impression...

“Oh, right!” you paused in your steps for a moment. “I forgot to introduce myself!”

And so you did, and you watched as something that almost looked like a smile twitched at Kinich’s lips. Then, as if testing the way it rolled on his tongue, he repeated your name carefully.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you beamed. Yeah, you sure liked the way that sounded.

3) The fall that was the fault of a slippery rock

“No, guys, trust me. I just discovered it. It’s like, really underground.”

Kinich sighed as Mualani giggled at her own joke. As if on impulse, you laughed along with her, but you even as the sound escaped you, you couldn’t tell if it came from a place of pity or not. Underground, because it was literally in an underground cave. Hilarious. Still, a small smile made its way onto your face. This was nice. As much as you loved your other friends, it sure felt great to hang out with people who didn’t always challenge you to risk your life (fuck you, Pacha), though you suspected Mualani just waiting for a chance to take you Spirit Wave riding, and you weren’t sure you were quite ready for that yet.

Today, however, you were spared. Mualani had promised you and Kinich a relaxing afternoon in a new hot spring she’d found. And so you were following her into an opening in the rock face.

The air was immediately a little cooler than it was outside as you stepped into the darkness. The cave was still illuminated by the sunlight, and you could see more patches of light ahead. It glowed slightly in the reflections of the rock on the ground.

“It’s a little steep here,” your friend warned. “Watch your step.”

No sooner had you nodded to show your understanding than you had placed your foot down on a particularly slippery patch on the floor, and it slid.

A gasp tore out of you, but two arms were already wrapping around you from behind.

“Be careful,” his voice murmured in your ear. You almost gasped again. How glad you were that he was behind you and thus couldn’t see the way you froze up at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

From a little ways ahead of you, Mualani called out. “Hey, you alright?”

Your throat suddenly felt very dry. You cleared it before telling her that you were.

Kinich kept one hand on your waist for the next few steps before removing it after you had found your footing. You found yourself missing his touch upon the removal.

No matter, you assured yourself. Focus on not falling over again. The decline of the slope eased out into a flatter path, and soon the tunnel opened up into an expansive area. The underground spring was much brighter than you had anticipated, thanks to the perfectly round opening at the top. Smooth, round rocks seemed to line the edge, and the water sparkled in the ripples as Mualani crouched down to test it with her hand.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed.

You turned your attention to her. “What is it?”

“It’s cold! It was really toasty last time, though,” she frowned. “It must be because it’s further away. The underground water flow can get unstable and–“

As she rambled on, you crouched by the side of the spring, dipping your hand into the water. It lukewarm at best, but the pool wasn’t as big as most of the one’s above ground. You could work with this. Placing both hands in the not-so-hot spring, the vision at your side pulsed with energy. You let the heat flow through your body to your fingertips, as steam floated just above the surface of the water.

You failed to notice the pair of eyes that were fixed on you as you smiled to yourself.

“Hey, Mualani? Is this better?” Mualani’s eyes widened as she watched the mist rising out of the hot spring.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squealed. She rushed to your side, squeezing you in a hug, before drawing back immediately. “Ow, hot!”

The girl quickly submerged her arms in the water, sighing in relief. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

You grinned at your friends, stepping into the water yourself. “Shall we swim?”

The pounding of your heart against your chest was hard to ignore when Kinich slid into the spring and settled right beside you.

???) The fall that wasn’t even you

Kinich wasn’t sure what was wrong with him lately. He’d been sleeping the same, his regimented diet was unchanged, but in recent weeks, he’d found himself feeling a lot more strange.

Hunting commissions had been slow lately, so he’d taken the liberty of accepting ordinary bounties and commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild. When you’d heard about it, you’d insisted on joining him. He hadn’t had a problem with that, but since he started taking on these new commissions, Kinich had noticed that something was happening to his health.

He’d been spending a lot of time with you these days, but that couldn’t be it. How could that explain his borderline feverish symptoms? The heat that flushed his head and neck sometimes, and the weird way that his heart flipped, like it did when he went bungee jumping that one time.

And sure, those symptoms only happened when he was with you, but that was just because he was almost always with you. How could fighting a few treasure hoarders in your presence make him ill?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ajaw growled. “You like them!”

Kinich was too surprised to scoff. “What?”

“You have a big fat crush.”

“No, I don’t.”

The little green dots in Ajaw’s eyes rolled around so hard, Kinich thought they might fall out.

“Fine! Don’t believe me, then! Even though you blush whenever you’re with them, and you stare at them when they’re talking, and you didn’t even complain when they wanted to join your commissions and you’ve been losing half the profit!”

Ajaw’s body doubled in size before he vanished in agitation. Kinich raised a hand to his chin in thought. He needed a second opinion.

“You like them,” Mualani replied simply. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Kinich blanched. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it is,” she grinned. “Dude, you’ve fallen hard.”

There was a twist in his stomach. The tips of his ears turned redder than a hot chili pepper.

“Come on, Kinich. You’re a smart guy. Think about the way they make you feel.”

Despite everything, despite the fact that he was, in fact, a smart guy, and he had always been sure to analyse and prepare for every outcome, and he was always weighing the costs of his relationships and seeing right through people and thinking way too much about everything—

—the realisation hit him like a tidal wave.

Oh.

Mualani grinned, satisfied. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.”

Kinich barely registered her departure.

Because of course. Your relationship had never been transactional. All you ever did was give and give, and without even realising it, he’d poured his all into giving back without a moment’s hesitation. He’d never asked anything of you, nor you of him.

And because Kinich was a level-headed man, and ever-so-straightforward, there was no time wasted before he was at your front door.

If there was ever one thing he would ask of you, it was this.

“I like you, and I need to know if you feel the same.”

A grin found its home on your lips. A step forward and you closed some of the distance. The sparkle in your eyes did nothing to shake Kinich’s nerves, but it did make his stomach flip.

“Guess you’re the one falling for me now, huh?”

#kinich x reader #kinich #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #natlan #mualani #kinich imagines #written works !

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shortnspidey · 1 month ago

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SILENT RIFT

jj maybank x fem!cameron!reader || WC: 4.5K

SUMMARY: The Pogues finally find the gold they've been searching for after countless obstacles. However, when it comes to actually succeeding, the universe has other plans. Held at gunpoint in the middle of nowhere, a spontaneous decision changes everything. In the heat of the moment, words are said that reveal hidden feelings. Emotions run high, leading them to confront not only their enemies, but also their own emotions.

WARNINGS: established relationship, cursing, mild angst, talks of drugs, typical OBX level violence, suggestive towards the end but no smut!

A/N: Happy OBX 4 release day! This one shot is one of my old Wattpad drafts from when I was writing a JJ story. Enjoy this drabble as I try to publish another chapter of broken record or collateral hearts soon! This ended up being a long one, enjoy! Divider by @marvelstoriesepic

➩ main masterlist

➩ obx masterlist

"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein," JJ scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Kiara as he stepped out of the Twinkie. He clutched the melted piece of gold tightly in his hand, its weight a tangible reminder of what everyone was expecting him to do. As the group arrived outside a shabby pawn shop on the outskirts of the Outer Banks, the rundown aspect and the graffiti on the walls made your skin crawl. The shops window's were smeared with grime, making it impossible to see inside, and the peeling paint revealed patches of weathered wood.

Kiara shot JJ a glare, her frustration evident in the tight set of her jaw and the clenching of her fists. "Like you could have done any better." She retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. JJ stepped closer, standing toe to toe with her, not backing down from her challenging gaze. "I could have done much better. I took a welding class," He sassed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Woah, woah, hey!" John B chastised, stepping in between his two friends.

His presence seemed to diffuse some of the tension, his calm demeanor acting as a buffer between the two. You followed his lead, grabbing JJ by his arm and rubbing comforting circles with your thumb on his forearm knowing that he was anxious. You could feel the taut muscles in JJ's arm slowly beginning to relax under your touch, the rhythmic motion of your thumb providing a small measure of comfort.

"Chill out, okay?" John B coaxed, his voice gentle but firm. You watched as Kiara's eyes softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to a mix of concern and frustration. She took a step back, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled deeply. "It's easy for you to say that," JJ scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You're not the one that has to pawn off this piece of shit." He emphasized his point by holding up the gold bars that were now melted in a unrecognizable shape, the once gleaming metal was now a twisted, misshapen lump.

"How did I get this job anyway?" JJ muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Cause you're the best liar." Pope replied nonchalantly, his tone matter-of-fact. Letting out a sigh JJ turned to you, his cerulean blue eyes locking with yours. His eyes were a stormy sea, filled with a mix of frustration and determination. He turned his head, tapping his cheek. "Kiss, for you know, good luck." He grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning momentarily. You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics yet leaned in to kiss him nonetheless.

Just as your lips were about to collide with his cheek, he turned his head at the last second, smashing his lips with your in a kiss that was way too passionate for it to be in front of your friends. The warmth of his lips, the sudden intensity, made your heart race. You could have sworn you heard your sister mutter an "aww" while everyone else fake gagged, their exaggerated sounds filling the air. Pulling yourself away from the kiss, much to JJ's dismay, you smiled, leaning up and pressing one more chaste kiss to his pouting lips.

The brief contact left a lingering warmth, a promise of more to come. "You got this," You reassured him, squeezing his bicep in emphasis, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Showtime," He mumbled to himself, mentally preparing. Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath, and gave you one last look before stepping forward. Behind you, Sarah reached out and squeezed your hand, her grip offering a silent message of solidarity and support. The warmth of her touch was comforting, grounding you in the moment.

Everyone followed JJ into the empty shop, the jingle of the bell on the door announcing your arrival. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet space, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. "Afternoon, ma'am." JJ greeted, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of anxiety. The shop was dimly lit, with dust particles dancing in the beams of barely there sunlight that filtered through the windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various trinkets and curiosities, each one telling its own story. “Afternoon.” The pawnbroker, an elderly woman with a stern face and piercing eyes, looked up from behind the counter.

Her gaze swept over your group as you spaced yourselves around the room, lingering on JJ for a moment longer. JJ stepped forward, trying to maintain his composure under her scrutinizing gaze. "I see you buy gold," He emphasized, his voice steady but with a hint of nervousness. "That's what the sign says, don't it?" She retorted, her lips curling into a sneer. She glanced at the sign hanging in the window, its letters faded and worn. "Well, I sure hope you buy a lot of it, because I am about to blow your mind." JJ carefully opened his bag, revealing the items inside. The pawnbroker's eyes never left his hands, watching his every move with a hawk-like intensity.

"I ain't got much mind left to blow, so have at it," She challenged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "How about them gold apples," JJ replied, his voice steady as he placed the melted gold onto the counter with a thump that echoed throughout the shop. The sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, adding a weighty finality to his action. The pawnbroker chuckled cynically, shaking her head. "That ain't real," She declared, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of mockery. Her eyes flicked to the gold, then back to JJ, as if daring him to prove her wrong.

"That ain't real?" JJ scoffed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "It can't be," The pawnbroker pressed, her voice faltering slightly as doubt began to creep in. She reached out a tentative hand, her fingers hovering just above the gold, as if afraid to touch it. "Feel how heavy it is," He countered, his voice firm and confident. He nudged the gold closer to her, the metal glinting under the dim light. The pawnbroker hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on JJ's, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she picked up the gold, her fingers curling around it.

Her expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as she felt the weight of the metal in her hand. The shop fell silent, the only sound being the faint creak of the floorboards as she adjusted her stance, the gold weighing heavily in her grasp. "Mhm, here let's get some light on that." The group watched intently as she narrowed her eyes, but nevertheless picked up a nearby magnifying glass with a light, inspecting the chunk of gold closely. "Spray-painted tungsten." She concluded, her voice laced with doubt but still firm.

"Really, okay?" JJ rolled his eyes. "Why don't you see how soft it is." He suggested. "You mind?" The pawnbroker asked, holding up a small mallet, her eyes seeking permission. "No, go for it." JJ urged, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. She brought the mallet down gently, making a small dent in the gold, then pushed down on it for further inspection. "Wow. Would you look at that." JJ remarked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hold your horses, we ain't got the acid test yet." She shot back, her confidence wavering slightly. "Ooh, the acid test," He turned, his eyes locking onto yours, a mischievous glint in them.

"My favorite, baby." He added with a wink, grinning as he noticed how the simple action made you flush. You pretended to be distracted by a limited edition book on the shelf, your heart racing as you tried to avoid his piercing gaze. This was certainly not the place or time. Everyone held their breath as the woman dribbled a few drops of acid on top of the gold. The liquid sizzled slightly, emitting a faint, acrid smell that filled the small shop. "Well, it ain't plated, and it ain't painted," she assessed, her tone now more serious. "Ma'am, I'm telling ya, this is as real as the day is long," He insisted, growing tired of the back and forth, his patience wearing thin.

"It looks like someone tried to melt it down," she raised a brow, her eyes meeting JJ's in a challenging gaze. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken accusations. "My mom," You stepped in, linking your arm through JJ's as the pawnbroker eyed you both suspiciously. "She had all this jewelry laying around the house, and she thought it was best to melt it down to "consolidate" it." You tried to sound as convincing as possible, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. The lie felt heavy on your tongue, but you pushed through, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sarah bite her lip to stop the laugh that she almost let out at your evident lie. The pawnbrokers gaze flickered between you and JJ, her skepticism evident. The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Turning around with a sigh, she placed the gold into a small scale behind the counter, the scale creaked under the weight. "Seven pounds," Her eyes widened. "That's a lot of earrings." Her voice had a hint of disbelief, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to piece together your story.

"Okay, to be honest, ma'am," JJ spoke, clearing his throat and adopting a more somber tone. "It's really hard to see my fiancé's mom fall apart with Alzheimer's. Breaks my heart, truly." His voice wavered slightly, adding an authentic touch to the fabricated story. "Give me a minute." She tsked, walking towards a secluded office. JJ nodded solemnly, playing into the act of the heartbroken fiancé. "Take your time, ma'am." As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to give JJ a look of disbelief. "Alzheimer's really?" You whispered, trying to keep your voice low. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle, and you could feel a nervous giggle bubbling up inside you.

"So I talked to my boss, and this is what I can do." The pawnbroker returned, holding a piece of paper with a price written on it. Inspecting it, JJ raised his brows. "Fifty thousand?" He repeated, his voice tinged with incredulity. The offer was far lower than what you had hoped for, and you could see the frustration building in JJ's eyes. "You think I walked in here not knowin' the spot price?" JJ retorted, his voice firm. "I know for a fact this is worth 140 at least." His confidence was unwavering, and you could see the pawnbroker's resolve starting to crack. "Well sweetie, you in a pawn shop. This ain't Zurich." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of concession in her tone.

"Ninety, or I walk," He bargained, his voice steady. "Seventy, half price, and I don't ask questions about where you got this.” JJ clenched his jaw, looking over at John B, who nodded his head, giving him the green light. "I'm gonna need that in large denominations, please," JJ agreed, his voice calm but resolute. "Well, here's the snag, I don't have that much denominated. Not here anyway, but I can write you a cashier's check." JJ immediately shook his head. “No ma’am, I want the cold hard, that’s what that sign says. Cash for gold, and that’s what I expect.” He pointed to the sign on the wall as emphasis.

“Well, I have to send you to the warehouse. I have the money there. Is that alright?” Everyone in the room held their breath, watching as JJ mentally weighed his options over in his head. “Where’s this warehouse?” He finally asked, his voice steady but with a hint of skepticism. That is how the group found themselves further into the middle of nowhere following the pawnbroker's instructions to the supposed "warehouse". The road was rough and winding, lined with tall, ominous trees that seemed to close in on them as they drove deeper into the unknown.

To say you were on edge would have been a complete understatement. Every creak of the van and small jolt from where you were seated on JJ's lap made your heart race faster. "So, they keep money out here?" Pope voiced aloud the question everyone was probably thinking. His voice broke the silence, but instead of easing the tension, it only seemed to heighten it. The unease in his tone mirrored the anxiety that had settled in your chest. JJ shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. "That's what she said," He chuckled at his own joke. "That's what she said." His snicker was met with silence, the gravity of their situation overshadowing any chance of humor.

"Stop," Pope warned, his expression hardening. The seriousness in his eyes was a stark contrast to JJ's attempt at levity. "That was cute, but definitely not the time, J," You exasperated, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear and uncertainty in your tone were unmistakable. The blonde boy nodded, his playful demeanor fading. He held onto the melted gold in one hand, the other resting reassuringly on your thigh. The warmth of his touch was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming tension. "I've never even heard of Resurrection Drive." Sarah inquired. "That's cause your rich." JJ mumbled under his breath.

"You've never heard of it either." Both you and Kiara retorted in unison. "Thank you." Sarah replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "There's nothing but weeds back here." Kiara informed the group, looking out the van's window and seeing nothing but shrubbery. JJ was about to retort with another sarcastic comment, yet he was interrupted by the sudden, piercing sound of a siren. The noise sliced through the tense silence like a knife. Sure enough, John B looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes widening as he saw the flashing lights of a car behind them, signaling for them to pull over.

"Cops? Out here?" Kiara questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you kidding me!" JJ fumed, his grip tightening on the gold and your thigh, the panic in his eyes was evident. "What did we do?" Sarah questioned, her voice small and wavering, the fear clear in her tone. "Stash that," John B whispered urgently to JJ, who was still holding onto the gold in his hand. You quickly got off his lap and sat next to Kiara, your heart pounding in your chest. The van's interior felt even more confined as Pope and John B coaxed JJ to hurry up. The oppressive weight of the situation pressed down on you, making every second feel like an eternity as you waited for what would happen next.

Your heart sank in your chest upon hearing the cock of a gun and seeing a rifle a few inches away from John B's face. The metallic click echoed ominously in the confined space of the van. "Why don't I go ahead and see them hands in the air?" A gruff voice declared, belonging to a mystery assailant who wore a bandana on the lower half of his face. The fear that gripped your heart quickly morphed into a seething anger. You knew that voice. "All of y'alls hands up in the air right now." Oh hell no, you thought to yourself. This was going to end here and now. "No," You seethed, making direct eye contact with your assailant. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew you recognized him, and his cover slipped slightly.

The tension in the van was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring into action. The familiarity of the voice only fueled your anger, making it harder to think clearly. You could feel the eyes of your friends on you, their fear and confusion mirroring your own. "Just do as he says, Y/N," John B urged, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his fear. He slowly raised his hands, setting an example for the rest of you. "No," You shook your head, challenging him. The defiance in your voice was clear. The assailant's eyes narrowed behind the bandana.

"Alright, tough girl, come on out here then," He taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y/N, what are you doing?" Sarah whimpered, her voice trembling as she watched you step out of the van, the barrel of the gun trained on you. "It's gonna be okay, Sarah," You reassured her, trying to keep your voice calm despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "Y/N!" This time it was JJ. His voice cracked with desperation. As your eyes met his, you could see he was barely holding it together, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "JJ, trust me, stay here," You coaxed, trying to project as much confidence as you could muster. The last thing you needed was for him to do something reckless.

"I'd listen to the lady, unless you want your brain scattered here on the side of the road," The assailant threatened, his voice cold and unyielding. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding to the already suffocating tension. "I'll be okay, I'll be right back," You promised, hoping your words would be enough to keep your friends from doing anything rash. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was to come, and stepped further away from the van, feeling the eyes of your friends burning into your back. Once you were a safe distance away from the van, Barry lowered his rifle, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Mighty brave of you, Cameron, especially 'cause I'm the one holdin' the gun." He mocked.

"Oh please," You rolled your eyes, your voice laced with disdain. "Drop the act, Barry," Addressing him by his name with a tone of authority, you crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground. "We both know Rafe will kill you if you so much as lay a finger on me." You smirked confidently. "Now, why don't we cut to the chase, shall we?" You proposed, your eyes never leaving his as you reached for the shiny gold diamond ring that adorned your knuckle. Barry watched in disbelief as you slipped it off and held it out to him. "Here," You coaxed, handing him the ring. "This will get you a couple thousand dollars if you pawn it off right." Barry took the ring, studying it in the sunlight. "This covers what you and your friends got, but not what country club owes me, you feel me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest once more, the frustration evident in your posture. "How much does he owe you?" You asked, your voice tinged with exasperation. "At least two hundred," Barry replied, a smirk playing on his lips. Sighing, you reached into your back pocket for your wallet, picking out two hundred dollar bills. "Are we free to go?" You huffed, knowing that if this deal took any longer, your boyfriend would most likely come and take matters into his own hands, whether Barry had a gun or not. "Tell your boy toy that his attitude's gonna get him in trouble," Barry sneered. "Don't," You spat, your eyes narrowing. "If you even think of touching him, we're going to have a problem. You feel me?" You threw back his previous words with a defiant glare.

Raising his hands in mock surrender "Damn, looks like I hit a nerve." Barry chuckled. "I mean it, Barry," You insisted, your voice steady and unwavering. With one final smirk in your direction, Barry pockets the cash and the ring and climbs into his car without a single look back in your direction. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and turn back towards the van. As you approached, the tension was palpable, hanging thick in the air. "What the hell was that?" Sarah was the first to question you, her eyes wide with concern as you climbed into the backseat as if nothing had happened.

"I handled it, it's over." You shrugged nonchalantly, but the tightness in your chest betrayed your calm facade. Sarah scoffed, clearly unconvinced by your bravado. "That was pretty stupid, Y/N," Kiara scolded, her voice filled with frustration. Everyone nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of worry and disapproval. You shrugged them off, trying to meet JJ's eyes, who had yet to say anything. You could see the worry and anger battling for dominance in his eyes, the tension in his jaw making it clear just how much he was holding back. "Let's get out of here," John B broke the silence, his voice a calm command that cut through the tension. Everyone was unharmed, yet you somehow knew this was far from over.

Arriving back at the Château, you watched JJ throw open the door before John B even parked his van. The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed through the air. You watched as JJ stormed inside, his movements quick and agitated. One hand was gripping his chest, his knuckles white from the pressure, while the other was balled into a tight fist, veins visible under his skin. He didn't look back, his anger propelling him forward. John B, Kiara, Sarah, and Pope turned to you, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. It was as if they were silently asking if they should get involved, their eyes darting between you and the direction JJ had gone.

"I'll handle it," You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. You stepped down from the van, the gravel crunching under your feet. "Good luck," John B sing-songed, a teasing lilt in his voice. You flipped him off with a smirk, hearing Sarah and Kiara scold him in unison. Their voices faded as you walked through the door, the familiar scent of the Château enveloping you. You found JJ in the spare bedroom, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His footsteps were heavy, each step reverberating through the wooden floor. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a storm of emotions - anger, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability.

"JJ, talk to me," You urged softly, stepping closer. Your voice was calm, trying to soothe the tempest within him. He stopped pacing and turned to face you fully. His expression was a mix of anger and hurt, his jaw clenched tightly. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? You could've gotten yourself killed!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear behind his anger. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "He's the scumbag who sells coke to my brother. I know him and what he's capable of. As much of a psychotic asshole as he is, he wouldn't hurt me. Not without facing Rafe's wrath." That only made JJ angrier. "How are you so sure?"

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. "Maybe next time you won't be so lucky, or I won't be there to protect you." His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could see the worry etched into his features, mingling with the anger. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his breathing was ragged. "I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "It's over now." "Over?!" JJ's voice rose, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Dammit Y/N, you don't get it!" He screamed, pulling his hair in frustration. "I was fucking terrified. Did you know how scared I felt, watching the woman I love being held at gunpoint?" His voice broke, and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, though he tried to blink them away.

You opened your mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and significant. "What did you just say?" You finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. JJ stayed quiet, almost as if processing the words himself. His breathing slowed, and he looked away, his shoulders slumping. The vulnerability in his stance was palpable, and it hit you just how deeply he cared. This was more than just anger; it was fear of losing someone he couldn't bear to lose. "JJ," You coaxed to stop him from overthinking, knowing that his flight or fight mode was kicking in.

JJ's confession hung in the air, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart ache. You could see the fear and love in his eyes, and it made everything else fade away. The room seemed to shrink, and all that mattered was the two of you, standing there, vulnerable and exposed. "I love you, Y/N," He repeated, his voice softer this time, filled with a desperate need for you to understand. He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. Your breath hitched, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hands reaching up to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, JJ," You whispered, your voice trembling.

"I didn't mean to scare you, but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing either." His eyes softened, the anger melting away as he leaned into your touch. "Just promise me you'll be more careful," He murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I can't lose you, Y/N." He whimpered leaning his forehead against yours. "You won’t lose me, ever, I promise," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, you both closed the distance between one another, your lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and fervent. It was a kiss that spoke of all the fear, the love, and the relief you both felt. Bodies pressed together, seeking comfort and connection, hearts beating as one.

“And I love you too,” You grinned the second he pulled away giving you both a moment to catch your breaths. “In case that kiss didn’t make it clear enough.” JJ shook his head, only pulling you closer. "What do you say we seal the deal?" JJ grinned suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're lucky I love you." He didn't even give you a chance to finish his sentence before he kissed you again, wanting to show you just how much he meant it. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer, the heat between you growing more intense. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that promised so much more to come.

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maybanksbaby · 9 days ago

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summary: oh, poor drew has to lose his big biceps while filming queer. and oh, poor drew, is victim of his girlfriend's teasing :(

warnings: none, pretty light and fluffy 👌

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling idly through your phone, when the sound of a key turning in the lock catches your attention. Glancing up, you see Drew walk through the door, looking a bit slimmer but still smiling in that warm way that lights up his whole face. He came home only for a few days, and you still couldn't get over the fact that they didn't gave you a small copy of your boyfriend, it was actually Drew. Even if you were there in his whole process of weight losing, it felt weird.

You missed those pretty big things so much it was painful.

He’s wearing a loose T-shirt and faded jeans, his hair tousled from a long day on set, and something about him seems softer around the edges—almost like he’s let his guard down after weeks of intense filming.

You sit up, an exaggerated frown on your face. “Oh, no way.” Your tone is teasing, but you can’t resist it as you give him a once-over. “What happened to those big, strong biceps of yours, Starkey? Am I seeing things, or did you trade them in for some noodles?”

Drew raises an eyebrow, pausing mid-step as he gives you a look of mock offense. “Noodles? Seriously?”

You grin and shrug, crossing your arms. “I don’t know, babe. They’re looking a little… deflated.” You stretch out an arm, giving his bicep a playful poke as he comes closer. “Am I supposed to start lifting the groceries now?”

Drew lets out a chuckle and drops his bag on the floor before plopping down on the couch next to you. “I’ll have you know that my ‘noodle arms’ still work just fine,” he says, feigning indignation as he flexes, the bicep muscle tightening under his sleeve even if it’s smaller than you’re used to. “Had to lose some weight for Queer, remember? Luca didn’t want me looking like some action hero on this.”

You put on a look of exaggerated sympathy, patting his shoulder. “Aww, poor noodle-armed Drew. Must be so hard, not being the Hulk for once.”

He scoffs, but you can see the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Oh, no way,” you tease, leaning in and poking his arm again. “If you lose even one more ounce of muscle, I’m buying out the protein aisle and bringing it to set.” You pretend to squeeze his arm, making a show of struggling as if it’s the weakest thing in the world. “Seriously, who’s gonna protect me now? Or open all the jars?”

Drew smirks, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is that right?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his tone a playful challenge.

In one quick motion, he wraps an arm around your waist and effortlessly pulls you onto his lap, his fingers tightening around your hips as you let out a small squeal of surprise, laughing. “See? Noodles or not, I think I can still handle you just fine,” he says, a smug grin on his face as he holds you close.

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help the smile that’s tugging at your lips. “Hmm,” you say, tilting your head as if contemplating. “Maybe you’ve still got a little strength left in you. But I’m gonna keep a close watch. Just in case.”

Drew raises an eyebrow, feigning exasperation. “Oh, great. A personal bicep inspector. Exactly what I needed.”

You laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “Someone has to make sure you stay up to code, Starkey. You’re still my big, strong boyfriend, right? Don’t want anyone thinking I’m dating some scrawny little noodle boy.”

He lets out a laugh, his arm still firmly around you as his hand traces slow, comforting circles along your back. “Would it make you feel better if I promised to go back to the gym as soon as filming’s done? Maybe even lift double just to prove I’m still ‘your big, strong boyfriend’?”

“Maybe,” you say, narrowing your eyes with a smile. “But in the meantime, don’t be surprised if I start calling you ‘spaghetti arms.’”

Drew groans, dramatically rolling his eyes, but he’s laughing too, unable to keep a straight face. “Fine, fine, make fun of me all you want. Just remember who’s still carrying you around all day if he has to.” With that, he shifts his grip and effortlessly hoists you up, standing and cradling you against his chest as he walks toward the kitchen.

You burst out laughing, arms looping around his neck. “Oh, okay, maybe there’s still a little muscle left!” you say, gasping between giggles as he gently sets you down on the counter, his hands resting on either side of you.

“Exactly,” he says, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours, his voice softer now, teasing but affectionate. “No matter what, you’re still stuck with me.”

Your laughter fades as you look up at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Good,” you whisper, fingers gently brushing his cheek. “Because I wouldn’t want anyone else, noodle arms and all.”

Drew’s expression softens, his gaze lingering on yours as he cups your face, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. His hand trails down to your shoulder, pulling you closer until you’re wrapped up in his embrace, your laughter replaced by a comfortable, warm silence.

As he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, he chuckles, fingers idly tracing your arm. “I’ll get my biceps back,” he promises, his voice barely a whisper. “But for now, I guess you’ll just have to deal with ‘scrawny’ me.”

You grin, sliding your hands up his chest. “I’ll manage,” you say softly. “But just know I’m keeping an eye on those biceps. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll even give you a few compliments along the way.”

Drew laughs, kissing you again, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, with no need for words. Because no matter how many muscles he has—or doesn’t—you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, with him.

#drew starkey queer #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew Starkey concept #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine

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phantomrose96 · 6 months ago

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Sham Sacrifice

(Hi it's time for my favorite headcanon)

...

Vlad Masters sat firm and proper on the Fenton Family couch, legs crossed, teacup pinched in his fingertips, fighting subtly against the sinkhole that came with the mistake of taking Jack’s usual spot on the couch. He appeared with all the same charm and delightfulness of an ant swarm rearranging your picnic.

Danny stood at the doorway, just-still-in-the-kitchen, just not inviting himself to join the adults in the living room where Jack boomed and rambled and Vlad sat so stiff and polite and nice that his tea in his hands was going cold.

“Oh, Danny you’ll love this story—Danny, you should join us—Danny this was, what, summer of ’84? When was that heatwave, Vladdy? The one where you—”

“There’s no need to bore Daniel with the mad ravings of two old kooks, Jack. Kids would rather be off at the mall or—some store, surely. No need to stick around Daniel on my behalf. I assure you I won’t be offended if you leave.”

“No worries, V-man. I’m good right here. I love hearing Dad’s stories." Danny met Vlad's challenge, speaking with more poisonous courtesy than Vlad had proffered first. "In fact I think he should tell a few more, if he’s got more in mind.”

“In fact I do have more in mind—” Jack answered.

Neither Danny nor Vlad were listening to Jack. They held eye-contact, Danny with a stern unblinkingness of a sheepdog on duty. A lot was said without words. A lot was understood when Vlad decided to visit through the front door. Vlad only used the front door when he wanted something.

And it was never good when Vlad wanted something.

“—the core reactor project, yeah? That summer? That was in the lab with no A/C. Top floor. We were sweating like pigs, all of us. And I dared you to eat the really moldy pizza from our fridge the night before and you ralphed right into—”

“—Surely you remember this more fondly than I do. Daniel, really, you can go.”

Not a chance.

“Actually,” Danny answered, brightening some as his opportunity struck. “I am interested in this. For science class I need to write a report on the invention of an important piece of technology. I was gonna ask Mom and Dad about the Ghost Portal. And now that you’re here, I can get the whole history.”

Jack made a giddy little noise. He leaned forward, words primed, but Vlad was quicker to the draw.

“Sorry to say, your faith in me is unfounded. I wasn’t the portal guy back in college—that was always your mother and father’s passion project. I was their skeptic.”

“Bet that’s got you feeling pretty foolish right now, doesn’t it V-man?” Jack chided, a quick jab to Vlad’s ribs that nearly unseated the teacup from his suspended saucer. “Considering the fully-functioning portal right beneath our toes.”

“I hardly feel foolish, Jack. Your calculation for the portal in college was never going to work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Jack thumped the ground with his foot. “It’s running the old girl right now.”

At this, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. For the first time he’d been shaken off whatever skeezy machinations had brought him in. His pride was being challenged, and by Jack no less.

“Absolutely not. With that calculation? Absolutely not.”

“Well forget the tea biscuits Vlad, because you’re going to be eating your words in a second. Mads, hold my spot,” Jack said, as if anyone was planning to take his spot. He bounced from the couch, scooted from the living room, and vanished into the dark maw of the lab stairs, leaving only the waning beat of his footsteps behind.

His absence filled only a swallowing few seconds. The footsteps returned, bounding upward, creaking with his heavy cadence, and Jack bounced back into the room in much the manner he left. A pad of yellow lined paper was clutched in his hand. When he dropped it on the coffee table, it revealed row after row of tight scribble, churning math, carrying down the page and occupying two entire pages more that Jack flipped through.

“Same baby I came up with in college. It just needed heavier dampening and higher voltage than what we made back then. The portal downstairs has that in spades. Well, in like two-thirds of a spade.” Jack tapped something on the last line. “The projection was still only hitting 70% of the threshold we calculated to reach dimension penetration. But it’s an art, not just a science. We fired it up anyway, and it took!”

Vlad grabbed the paper pad, agitated. His eyes ran over it. Then again. Until he settled on one line, a firmness overcoming his face. He tossed the pad back onto the coffee table, and Vlad leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.

“The lambda, Jack.”

“The lambda?”

“Check it again.”

Jack did, lips pursed, pad of paper nearly swallowed in his big meaty hand.

“What about--?”

“It squares. The units don’t balance otherwise. It originates from an integration step of λ*∂λ/∂t. It squares.”

Jack’s brow remained furrowed, firm, until delight cracked into his eyes, and he let out a laugh.

“Gods, my handwriting is gonna be the death of us. Mads,” he tapped something unseen on the second page. “That’s the genius of Vladdy. Cracked this puppy wide open with just a glance. I never noticed that in all my checking. That explains the missing 30%, at least. That explains how the portal took. Lucky for you Danny that Vlad was here—”

“Jack,” Maddie said.

“—your report can have the correct formula. It’ll be—”

“—Jack—”

“—A+ worthy—”

“—Jack,” Maddie said, curt. “Lambda is the ambient ecto-energy. It’s a few ten-thousandths of a unit.”

“It—huh.”

Maddie had surfaced a pen from her pocket. She sheared a few blank pages out from the back of the pad and started the formula fresh. She made quick work of copying it over, quicker work of solving it through – lambda-squared intact.

She hit the final line and hatched a pen mark beneath the number. Jack stared, confused.

“That can’t… no.”

He repeated the same. New pages torn loose. Formula copied over, processed, line by line by line—lambda squared—by line by line by line.

Jack settled on his answer. Same as Maddie’s.

Confusion made his face tense.

“So it’s not 70% of the way to the threshold… It’s 0.013% of the way to the threshold.”

He held the pen hard, his whole body holding firm and taut as the gears turned in his head. Jack’s eyes flickered across the formula, again and again and again. He looked to Maddie, like a dog issued a command he did not understand.

“But it worked,” he said, small. “But it worked.”

Jack stood, robotic almost, eyes lost in something far away. He disappeared into the lab almost as quickly as he had a few minutes before, but now he exited with a smoothness and a quietness so very uncharacteristic of him. It bothered Danny, somewhere deep in his gut.

Maddie followed, a possession matching Jack’s.

Danny’s fingers curled and uncurled. He’d succeeded. He’s successfully interrupted Vlad’s… whatever this was. But the disquiet infected him. He didn’t like it.

“So what does that mean?” Danny asked, perhaps to Vlad. “What’s wrong with the calculation?”

Vlad sipped on tea ice cold.

“Who knows?” Vlad lied.

…

The math didn’t work.

Maddie and Jack burned through paper, burned through pencils, burned through hours.

The math didn’t work.

Clothes stuck to skin. Sweat lingered fetid and stale in the cold basement air. Exhaustion beat like a slurry through their veins.

The math didn’t work.

The portal supervised all, placidly green, the light for their table, the light for their work when the lightbulb overhead burnt clean out and neither Jack nor Maddie could be pulled away to replace it. It stood, it watched, a testament of contradiction to everything they could not solve on paper, and yet everything they built directly into the fabric of reality.

And it should never have worked.

They threw every radical what-if they’d ever conceived over 20 years of ghost research.

The ecto-ether layer.

The latent activation stitches in space fabric.

The anti-ectomatter collision proposal.

The positive-feedback crystallization theory.

And still nothing worked.

All together, every crackpot theory in their favor taken for granted, racked them up to an activation energy 200x more potent than the calculation, and still just 2% of what would be needed to rip open, and hold open, a stable fissure between their reality and the ghost zone.

Maybe by pure luck, unfathomable luck, Fentonworks basement was directly situated atop a natural portal.

Maybe that would explain ripping it open. It did nothing to explain the stability. Natural portals were unstable by definition. There and gone in a few seconds. Not hours, days, weeks, months, a year, that the Fenton Portal had been open. Never so much as faltering.

It was late. 3am ticked away to 4am, and 4:30am. The discarded paper stacked higher than Jack and Maddie both. Calluses oozed from their hands at another attempt, and another, and another.

Maddie flipped through a folder’s worth of yellowed papers, aggressively thumbed over and over after two decades left untouched. And she settled on the one she’d passed over a few dozen times already, always seeking something else, something better.

This time she unsheathed it, and she placed it on the lab table.

“…If a mouse died. In the machine. If a mouse ran through the machine and accidentally bridged two live wires, and died of violent electrocution. 500 milliamps. Instantly melted into the circuitry.”

Maddie’s mouth was cotton-dry while she wrote. Ambient ecto-energy was low. Always very, very low.

Unless something very, very bad happened to something with the capacity to become a ghost.

The numbers wove. Maddie started the formula fresh, and it was pure muscle memory. A mouse. A big mouse, even. A 99th percentile beast of a mouse. And a wire that had been wired incorrectly. Something grounded that never actually grounded. An absolutely horrific amount of electricity.

0.37%, by pure numbers. If she included every permissive crackpot idea they had thrown on top, it topped out at 6% of the needed activation threshold.

Not a mouse.

“A cat,” Jack said, words gummy, tongue dry, face tired. “If we’ve got mice down here, maybe… a stray cat wandered in. Chased the mouse.”

Maddie nodded. It didn’t matter if it made sense.

She penned it in. A large cat. A devastating electrical short. Cats carried more ecto-potential than mice did. Ecto-potential did not necessarily go up with size. It went up with complexity. The things with the most ecto-potential were the things that most became ghosts.

1.45%, by pure numbers. 18% at absolute, absolute crackpot best.

“A dog,” Jack proposed with a shaky laugh. He swallowed. “A mouse… chased by a cat… chased by a dog… all electrocuted at once”

Maddie didn’t say the thing they both knew, which was that both of them would have noticed the evidence left behind by the electrically exploded pieces of a dog.

Maddie did it anyway. A mouse and a cat and a medium-sized dog, maybe just small enough to notice no evidence of, all together. All at once. All violently ripped apart, sacrificed to a machine still asleep in its wall.

Mice did not often make ghosts. Cats did not either. Dogs, occasionally. But infrequently. Very infrequently.

37%. At best.

“Jack.”

“Maddie, I know just—maybe something really smart—”

“—Jack—”

“—like an octopus—”

“Jack.”

“I hear, maybe, pigs are smart. If it was—”

Maddie was writing, already. Not for a pig. Not an octopus. Jack watched, and he knew what the numbers meant. The ecto-potential she penned gave her away. An ecto-potential that high.

65kg, an estimate

10,000 milliamps, a catastrophic accident, a death certificate.

A human’s amount of ecto-potential.

Maddie wrote.

And she wrote.

And she did not apply a single crackpot theory, not a single discredited proposal, not an ounce of exaggeration.

138%.

Threshold, and then some.

Comfortable, easily, then some.

For the first time, after all the hundreds of times she and Jack had penned this equation over the course of 2 decades, the number met her and Jack’s threshold.

A breakthrough.

A revelation.

A pure eureka moment.

Jack and Maddie were silent.

Alone in a humming basement. Alone with only the soft swirls of the portal for company, happy, stable, purring its contentment, singing to the cold air.

“It has to be something else,” Maddie said. And she said it weakly. And she said it childishly.

“You’re right. It can’t be this,” Jack echoed. “If someone died down here, we’d know. Dead bodies don’t walk away. We’d have seen it. O-or even if, if the body got stuck in the portal, we’d have heard of someone going missing.”

Maddie sat, quiet. A thought held her mind hostage.

“Unless they didn’t go missing,” Maddie said, and she said it barely audibly. “Unless the portal spit them right back out.”

“Then—that’s what I said—a dead body, on the floor, we’d have seen.”

“Not a dead body.”

“It had to be lethal, Mads—”

“I know Jack. But if they died, here, in the portal Jack, then their ghost did not get ripped away from the body and sent to the Ghost Zone. …They ripped the Ghost Zone here.” Palms slick with sweat smoothed over her notes. She pointed to one specific line and found her pen tip trembled no matter how badly she stabilized it. “The ecto-potential of a creature is how strong of a pull their ghost creates on the Ghost Zone. A strong enough pull means the ghost can reach the Ghost Zone and stabilize, like a fish reeling itself up, yeah? We agree on this Jack, yes?”

“Yes,” Jack answered.

“It’s what makes the math even work, Jack. Someone dying in the portal didn’t reel themselves to the boat. They reeled the boat in. Jack, they brought the Ghost Zone here…” Maddie wasn’t breathing right. She pulled sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. “Their ghost never left their body Jack. They died, Jack. And they walked back out.”

“…No. No,” Jack said. “No, they didn’t.”

“Then what?” Maddie asked.

Jack stared. He looked away. He didn’t like the expression on Maddie’s face.

“It—what about the ecto-ether theory?” Jack said, of the theory they’d tested and retested and tested all over, all night. He grabbed his pencil back up and pointed it aimlessly at Maddie’s piece of paper, pointed end out in self-defense. “If the ecto-ether is maybe… if it’s only 250-times stronger than we calculated. Then it could…”

Jack’s voice died. His pencil hung idle. Maddie’s paper remained unblemished.

“If it… was a pig,” Jack offered. “If it was a pig that died in the portal.”

“How, Jack? How would a pig get in? We lock all the doors at night, Jack. No one else can get in, Jack. It’s just us, Jack.”

Jack and Maddie were not there when the portal turned on.

Maddie’s statement carried two possibilities. Only two. Both felt like claws digging all the flesh right out of Jack’s heart.

“I want… I want to try the ecto-ether theory again,” Jack choked. “I think it’s the ecto-ether. I think it’ll work.”

Jack slid a piece of paper over, already covered in scribbles. In its single untouched corner, he started the equation for the several-thousandth time that night.

Above their head, birds were singing.

Sunrise hailed unseen from the windowless laboratory.

…

At 6am, Vlad answered his cell phone. The reception crackled, struggling through the layers of sheetrock above his head.

“Vlad?” Maddie’s voice crackled. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Not at all my dear.” Vlad leaned his weight against the wall, playing with the singsong melody in his voice. “But you sound exhausted. Is anything the matter?”

“Yes. Well… Yes. Jack and I have—all night—trying to fix the equation.”

“Naturally.”

“We found something that maybe works.”

“Oh?” Vlad asked. He straightened, pacing now, cracklingly attentive. “And what might that—”

“If someone died. Activating the portal. We have an on-switch inside the portal’s interior. The trigger we use to press it is external to the portal, of course. But if someone went inside the portal, and they pressed it directly, and if they died, and pulled the Ghost Zone here—”

Vlad’s red eyes reflected pools of iridescent green. He twirled his free hand in the fringes of his cape, tongue working over the fanged edges of his teeth. He stared, consumed, forward.

“—and just, you, I was thinking, you’re the only other expert I’d trust to… maybe weigh in.”

“What does Jack think?”

“He denies it. He’s still. He’s trying other theories.”

“Well who knows, surely? The answer may lie somewhere you haven’t looked.”

“…I’ve looked everywhere, Vlad. That's the thing. There is no more ‘somewhere else’. I’ve looked.”

“You sound like your mind is made up.”

“I just… if maybe you have some idea.”

“Am I meant to talk you out of this idea?”

“Vlad.”

“Do you think I have some secret information you don’t? Sorry to say, I’m just your skeptic.” Some noise came through muffled from the other side. Vlad flashed a smile. “But…as your skeptic I will offer you this—It all sounds a bit absurd, doesn’t it? To kill someone and have them come back intact and… for you to never notice? Who would they be? How would they be? Surely not human anymore, surely. How would you never notice?”

Vlad paced forward, booted feet clicking along his laboratory floor.

“It would be ridiculous,” he continued, with a building crescendo, “so unfathomably self-centered surely, to not notice something like that befall someone so close to you, who died at the hands of your own invention? …If I’m correctly inferring who, in your household, you suspect of having activated the portal?” Vlad’s tongue lingered along his teeth.

Maddie’s line held, quiet. And the seconds of static drew long.

“Ah, apologies. I’ve overstepped,” Vlad continued. “I meant this as a vote of confidence in you. You and Jack both. Two people as attentive, caring, compassionate as yourselves. You would notice. I promise.”

“You’re… Okay, thank you, Vlad. I appreciate it.”

“Is there anything else, my dear?”

“No. No. Thank you, Vlad. I’ll think about this.”

Maddie’s line clicked dead. A chuckle built to Vlad’s lips and he let his head tip back with mirth. It lasted only a moment. He stowed his phone. And as if the interruption had never happened, Vlad reaffixed his attention on his own portal swirling in front of him. It bathed him, swimming green, purring contentment.

And Vlad vanished into his portal.

(Chapter 2)

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #GIVES YOU THIS GIVES YOU THIS GIVES YOU THIS #its my favorite headcanon so here you get a fic of it

2K notes · View notes

letorip · 5 months ago

Text

kiss with a fist

“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.

warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha

word count: 4.8k

A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.

===+++===

The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.

“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.

"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.

“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.

"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."

She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”

“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”

“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.

"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.

"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."

"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."

"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"

You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."

"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.

"And what if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.

With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.

"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.

“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.

“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you insisted.

"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.

“Yes.”

“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"

Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.

"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.

"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”

"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."

"See, about that..." she trailed off.

"What.”

“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”

"What?”

"Yeah..."

You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."

"What!?"

"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."

Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”

“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”

“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.

“What are you trying to do?”

Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”

“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.

“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”

“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”

“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”

She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.

“Wow, so you do have a heart.”

She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”

“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I��m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.

“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.

“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”

“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”

“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.

“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.

“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.

===+++===

This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.

The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.

Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.

She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.

are you here yet???

You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.

“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.

“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”

“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.

“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.

“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”

“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”

“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.

You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.

It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.

"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.

"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."

"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."

Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."

You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."

"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."

"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."

You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.

"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.

"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.

"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."

The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.

You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.

"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.

She smirked evilly. "Nope."

Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.

You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"

Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.

"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.

"Oh, a month," you said.

"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.

You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.

You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."

"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.

"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.

"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.

"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"

"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.

"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."

"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."

"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.

"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.

"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.

"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."

"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.

“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.

===+++===

The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.

"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.

"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.

Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."

You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."

"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."

"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."

"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.

"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.

The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."

She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."

"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."

"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.

"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."

"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"

"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."

You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"

“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”

You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.

“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.

Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”

You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”

“Still.”

“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”

“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”

You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”

She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”

She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”

You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.

She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.

“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.

You groaned. “Now what.”

She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”

You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.

"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"

She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."

You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."

"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."

You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."

"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"

"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."

"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.

"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.

It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.

"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."

You nodded. "Whatever."

"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.

It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.

===+++===

part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #scream #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 9 months ago

Text

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.

warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines

genre: still very much a romcom

part 1

note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.

“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.

“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.

“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”

“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.

“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”

You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.

“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.

“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”

“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.

“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).

“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.

“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”

“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”

“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”

“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.

“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”

Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”

“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”

“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"

“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”

“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.

He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.

“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”

“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.

“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”

“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."

Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”

“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”

“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”

"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.

"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."

You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.

“Have fun with your boyfriend?”

“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.

“Lord Eros,” You bowed.

“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.

“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”

You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”

“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.

“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”

“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.

“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”

A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.

Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”

Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”

“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.

“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.

“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”

You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.

When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”

“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”

“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺

taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series

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sleepymarimo · 1 year ago

Text

𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤

summary: he didn't mean to push you away so harshly, to build his walls so high, but he didn't expect you to go running to someone else... pairing: zoro x reader, slight law x reader cw: unrequited feelings (or are they?), angst, no comfort an: set in wano, with some minor tweaks! thought of this last night and had to share my pain...oops also, i plan to have some fluffy straw hat stuff out this weekend ♡( ◡‿◡ ) wc: 3.4k

you'd been harboring feelings for your vice captain, for a while. you never acted on it, his aloof nature making you too nervous to make that jump- to try. even then, you were sure that he had more pressing matters to attend to.

so, you kept it under wraps. you trained and laughed and did everything you were supposed to, did everything right, without letting your feelings get too much in the way. it was manageable, and it made you feel good that you could support your crew, even if it meant holding onto your feelings.

it was the little things that gave you away to him. how your eyes darted away a bit too quickly when he met your gaze, how you sometimes intentionally stood farther away from him in a bid to look inconspicuous, even though it made it so much more obvious. he was as dumb as a rock sometimes, yeah, but not when it came to his crew, not when it came to you. he knew. of course he knew, but he had no reason to call you out on it. clearly you didn't want to discuss it and, as long as it wasn't getting in the way of anything major, he could bear it. it was when your emotions served as a distraction, that things became complicated.

the land of wano brought with it many challenges. most where physical, be it sneaking around the shady capital or handling some rowdy criminals. having crew members split up also made you worried, only heightening your senses and making your brain run rampant with what ifs. it all comes to a sudden standstill when you and brook, on your way to the safe house, walk in on zoro. one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen is snuggled right into his side and you feel a twinge of envy.

your heart does a somersault in your chest, something twisting in your gut at the unusual sight. a part of you, the rational side, knows very well that zoro didn't let people into his personal space with such ease. yet, even with her explanation, your mood can't help but sour. it only worsens when you all sit down and discuss more pressing matters.

the stresses of wano, this whole hiyori situation and her ever present enthusiasm towards the swordsman has you itching to escape. your responses become curt and your hands twitch in your lap. it's not how you should be acting, not given the circumstances, but you can't help it. finally, when there's a break in the conversation, you politely dismiss yourself.

once outside, you take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. leaning against the wall of the safe house, you let out a sigh and stare off at some random point in the distance in a bid to quell your passive aggressive behavior. the sound of the door opening catches you off guard, your arms crossing over your chest as the swordsman approaches you with a hardened expression.

"the hell is up with that look on your face?" he'd grumble, his cold demeanor matching the chill in the air. his arms are crossed, his posture tense. while zoro was one to take things as they came, focusing on the present, he couldn't deny that wano and its secrets were gnawing at him as well. he was irritated, wondering why you'd even bother to think about something as miniscule as feelings while there were enemies and actual threats lurking about. when you don't answer, when he figures you wouldn't even have the guts to bring it up, he huffs. "you think I asked to be cuddled up to like a damn toy?" his eye narrows and he takes a step closer, challenging you. "I don't have feelings for her, or anyone, got it?" the lump in your throat is too large to swallow and you nod, incapable of much else. a torrent of sensations swirl in your chest: embarrassment that he'd been aware of your feelings this whole time, guilt for letting them get in the way, and a bitter resounding sting that came with rejection. with a click of his tongue, he turns back and heads into the safe house, mumbling something about pulling yourself together and focusing on what's important.

you're almost glad when zoro ends up splitting off with hiyori later on, your mind flooded with thoughts. in a bid to defend yourself from further pain, you get your act together and squash down those feelings. you do well to put on a brave and happy face, deciding that, yes, there are some more important matters to attend to.

despite that, it's still hard not to see the samurai a bit differently. you knew he was blunt, even harsh at moments, but his approach to such a sensitive topic was a little much for you to handle. even if his words held some truth, that there were more pressing matters to attend to, the delivery of it just made you feel uneasy and hurt. the rest of your encounters are just as quick, your words just as clipped. if you acted any differently towards him, it wasn't out of malice. subconsciously, you defend yourself from further embarrassment and give him the distance you think he needs. while the chaos ensues, your defense mechanism only serves as a temporary solution. once the dust settled, it would be a different story.

finally, when the horrors of wano are dealt with, you can breathe a minor sigh of relief. in the flower capital, alongside your crew mates, you patiently wait for luffy and zoro to awaken from their slumbers. when they finally do, the air feels lighter

in the wake of it all, your emotions catch up to you, which makes you feel worse since this was supposed to be a joyful moment. it's hard to fight that initial instinct, to head over to zoro and ask if he's alright or if he needs anything. yet, you force yourself to take a step back, even if it does look like his bandages need tending to. it's a lot easier to do so once hiyori reveals that she was the one to help bathe him while he was unconscious, your stomach churning as you look away and walk to a different corner of the room. clearly he had someone looking out for him already. with a polite and slightly forced smile on your face, you find yourself heading over to law, who sits in the corner and chooses to observe the moment rather than partake in any conversation. you'd gotten along well with the surgeon, your relationship only growing stronger as he spent more time with the straw hats. he respected your skills and your perceptiveness, your ability to adapt to the needs of those around you and make them feel at ease. when he hears you approaching, he's naturally wary, but relents and gives you a nod, saying your name as a way of greeting you. satisfied, you take a seat next to him and raise a hand to gesture at his arm. "I know you're a surgeon and all, but d'ya think I can help you with your bandages?" you ask him, sincere and with a soft smile. "y'know, before this whole alliance thing is over and all..." he wants to say no, but the genuine kindness in your eyes has him huffing and looking away. a reddish hue tinges his cheeks and he holds out his arm. "go ahead." his tone fights to maintain its usual indifference, though there's a hint of appreciation laced in. on the opposite side of the room, where hiyori 'fixed' his bandages much too tight, zoro glances over at you. he notes the way you visibly relax around the surgeon, an action that has him growing irritated. he was your crew mate, your nakama, someone who would keep you safe, not that second rate captain. when the bandages cut off his circulation, he growls in frustration and tears some of them off. why weren't you over here doing this for him, when you knew exactly how he liked his bandages? why were you tending to law so gently and giving him that smile, the one you hadn't given him in ages? the swordsman isn't blind. he's been aware of the distance you've put between the two of you, how your 'smile' drops as soon as you turn away from him. as the battles had come to an end, he's now forced to recall the events which occurred at the safe house. he curses as his own shortcomings, his inability to think twice about his actions and how they'll affect the future. turning his attention towards something else, he mentally chides himself. what did he care, after all? he didn't do the whole relationship thing, the whole soft and squishy feelings. he was a swordsman, he had a goal and a crew to protect, including you. his thoughts do little to fight off the twinge of possessiveness he feels when he instinctively looks in your direction and catches sight of you holding law's hand as you secured his bandage. something gnaws at his pride, but he pushes it aside for the sake of maintaining his stoic front.

once everyone is healed, a festival, a grand one, is thrown to celebrate the liberation of wano. lanterns illuminate almost every corner, the scent of food wafting through the air as citizens and samurai and pirates all gather around.

dressed in a lovely kimono of your choice, you're more than eager to join in the revelry. the two bottles of sake that you carry in your hands only highlights your enthusiasm. you'd been hanging around with the crew for a while, smiling and laughing, but your mind was elsewhere. zoro thinks, for a split second, that you'll hand him a bottle. despite his aloof nature, he'd always find himself sharing a drink with you at times like this. yet, when you walk in the opposite direction, your smile beaming, your words have him gritting his teeth. "m'gonna go have a drink with law!" you chirp, your excitement palpable.

zoro's jaw clenches as he watches you walk off, his eyes lingering on your figure before he looks away. something simmers beneath the surface, but he keeps it at bay. it's nami's offhand comment that his frustration threatening to boil over.

"don't have too much fun!" she teases, throwing a cheeky smile your way. the others have the nerve to laugh, to egg you on, all while the swordsman relishes in how the alcohol burns his throat.

his knuckles turn white as he grips the neck of his sake bottle, the glass straining against his hold. a plethora of unfamiliar emotions rattle in his chest, but his bullheadedness and pride have him unwilling to budge, even if he wants to grab your arm and pull you back. it wasn't his place.

even when you're out of sight, his eyes subconsciously work to peer through the crowd in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your kimono, your hair, anything. once again, he scolds himself. he had no place to be so... so what? envious? possessive? he was the one to turn you away, after all. regardless, he can't get your smile out of his head. memories of you flood his mind: the banter and the sparring matches at sunset. all of it. just as quickly, he catches himself, bringing his lips to the bottle in a bid to drown out the bitterness on his tongue.

it's nearly a full hour later when you return to the crew, more than buzzed and clinging to the arm of the raven-haired surgeon. he doesn't seem to mind, his furrowed brows and his apathetic expression doing little to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

glad to be in the company of your crew mates once more, you turn to law and wrap your arms around his waist, your smile so genuine and radiant it makes zoro's chest ache. "thank you traffy!"

the laughter of the rest of the crew echoes in zoro's ears alongside his own thundering heartbeat and boiling blood. what the hell were you doing? a knot forms in his chest, the unfamiliar sensation bringing him a great sense of unease.

he has to force himself to look away, before he realizes that it's not enough. without excusing himself, he stands and walks off towards a more secluded part of the festival. he needs to get away from whatever all that is. he needs to clear his head and heart and steel himself because he shouldn't be focusing on such things.

if you were any more sober, you would've kept your distance. however, it's in your nature to care, to worry and ensure that your crew mates are okay. that's why, as soon as you register the fact that the swordsman is gone, you release your hold on the surgeon and follow after zoro.

it's almost silent, save for the sounds of the festival off in the distance. the streets in this part of the capital aren't as illuminated, but cast enough of a glow for you to see zoro up ahead.

"zoro?" you mumble, attentive despite the alcohol in your system. "what're you doin' all the way out here?" your words are so genuine and full of concern, which makes it all the harder for zoro to respond.

"huh? what does it look like?" he roughly replies, not even bothering to fully face you as he turns his head to the side. "needed a break from all the noise and drunken idiots."

something bubbles in his throat, a lump of guilt that he swallows for the sake of self-preservation. he knows he has no right to be so callous, but can't help the passive-aggressive comment that slips past his lips. "why don't you just go off with that surgeon of yours? seems like better company."

your stomach drops and you take a step back. something wedges itself into your chest, a sense of anxiety and confusion as your mind briefly flickers back to that moment at the safe house. you'd done everything right, hadn't you? you'd given him space and pushed your feelings aside for the sake of the mission, so why this?

your heart starts to race, unable to look him in the eye as you focus your gaze to the side.

"why're you bein' so mean to me...?" you murmur, your hands nervously fidgeting as you await his answer. you just wanted to make things right.

he has to turn away once he catches the hurt on your face. if you were any more sober, you would've caught how he was the one that was truly nervous. the way you threatened to break down the walls he had built for himself has him needing to take control, even if that meant pushing you away.

"m'just being honest." he says, sharper than he means to. "leave me alone. go and enjoy the rest of the damn festival."

regret and longing make his chest throb, but he keeps on his mask of indifference as he takes a step forward and away from you. he wouldn't budge, couldn't.

meanwhile, you stand there, your inhales slowly turning short and ragged. your lips tremble and you fight to hold back sobs, but shortly after, you start to sniffle.

you hated crying, really crying. the crew had seen you shed silly little tears before, maybe over something cute or emotional, but not this. it's something you usually hide away and display in private, but the nature of the situation and the influence of the alcohol have you shedding an uncontrollable amount of tears.

though you shouldn't be, the utter vulnerability of the moment has you feeling embarrassed. you find solace in your sleeves, the kimono becoming damp with tears that don't seem to end. your cheeks sting, rubbed raw as you hide away from him.

zoro's heart drops.

the sound of your sobs is devastating. guilt claws at his chest, threatening to crack him open. when he turns around, all he can feel is regret. the weight of his words, how he treated you, is almost unbearable and makes him feel disgusted with himself.

his mind is racing, wondering what he should do or say to fix this, but he can't come up with an answer. before he can do anything, his mind goes blank at your next words.

"I wish I never got feelings for you." you choke out, unsure if your words are genuine or if you simply wanted to hurt the swordsman. with your shoulders trembling, you continued to cry into your sleeves. "I should've figured that there was nothing in that heart of yours."

deciding that you couldn't stand being in the same vicinity as him anymore, you run off.

he watches you go, his heart screaming at him to go after you, but he can't. the walls crumble and he can't hide anymore, forcing himself to realize that he cares for you so much that it terrifies him. the air is thick with tension, your sobs echoing through the air until they fade away, replaced by the distant sounds of the festival.

regret, self-loathing and longing all swirl in his chest, a torrent of emotion that threatens to swallow him whole.

you don't make it back to the ship that night.

you're too embarrassed and ashamed, not feeling safe enough to be vulnerable. you mentally apologize to the crew, hoping that they aren't too worried.

it isn't until the next morning that you return, or rather, you're returned.

the sun barely peeks over the horizon when law walks aboard the thousand sunny go with you cradled in his arms. you're in a deep sleep, completely exhausted and hungover. you're dressed in some of his clothes, your expression peaceful despite what occurred the night before.

other members of the crew gather around, worried about your well-being, but law is quick to say that you were just hungover and must have gotten lost. however, zoro can tell by the sharp look that law gives him that there was more to the story.

the vice captain grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he watches law gently carry you over to your quarters.

a part of zoro wants to force law to give him answers, to tear you out of his arms so he could cradle you in his. he should've been the one to care for you, to protect you when you were vulnerable, but he hurt you instead. something else nags at him, the fact that you sought solace in someone else's arms.

law comes out of your room, quietly closing the door before walking down the deck. as he walks by zoro, he doesn't stop, but he shoots him another hardened glare. "you're an idiot, roronoa-ya."

oh, zoro knows.

when you finally awaken, you put on a brave face and tell the rest of the crew that you were sorry about your little slip up. you do well to cover it up with a laugh and smile. you build walls of your own, adamant on not getting hurt again.

it's once the crew is happy and satisfied that you make your way back to your room, your head hanging low as you walk by zoro.

your legs come to a stop and you can only hold his gaze for a second before you look away, just wanting to put this chapter behind you. the ache in your chest grows as you wonder what could've been. your voice is small. "look..." you start, hands bunching up into the borrowed shirt you're wearing. "let's just forget this ever happened and stay friends... alright?"

'forget?' he thinks. 'how can I forget that look on your face? the sounds of your sobs? do you think i'd let you go so easily?'

yet, despite the war raging on inside of him, the words stay stuck in his throat.

"yeah." what am i saying? "just friends."

as he watches you walk back to your room, he feels defeated. pathetic. he wants to say more, to show you that he can be the man you deserve, but for now, he sinks back into his usual habits and wonders what could have been.

he knows that he let something precious slip away.

steeling himself, he holds his heavy heart high. a sliver of determination cuts through his clouded mind and he hopes that, one day, he can make things right.

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader

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totothewolff · 4 months ago

Text

Daddy's Little Pet

+18 | one shot | Toto x reader | smut, daddy kink, size kink, power play.

Summary: You had come to Brackley expecting a generic interview, not a deep dive into Toto's lovemaking life. Author's note: As a reply to the request made by @ xoxo_lily at The Wolff Pack Discord Server.

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

The second you entered the empty boardroom where Toto was waiting for you, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your heart pounded hard as you gazed at the well-dressed boss. Toto's tall, big, powerful muscled silhouette claimed your eyes immediately. He looked even more massive in person.

A hiss of nervousness curled in your stomach as you approached the table while grabbing the seat next to him.

When he slid his chair to face you, just centimeters apart from you, you felt tiny. Even though both of you were sat down he towered over you with a notorious difference.

Oh, if you could bury your head in that broad and muscular chest in front of you.

Since Toto's aura of power mesmerized you, and your curiosity and attraction for him piqued, you decided to do an article on him for the upcoming issue of GearGrl.

Armed with a script and a microphone, you made your way to his private boardroom, where he takes video calls and deals with sponsors, press, and guests.

The smell of polished oak and leather filled the air, creating an alluring scent that is as arousing for you as the man himself.

His piercing eyes sized you up the second the door swung open and you stepped in.

You extended your hand at him, trying to hide the trembling nerves, rocking a bit in your chair. "Mr. Wolff, my name's Y/N. I'm a journalist from GearGrl magazine, and I'd love to chat with you for a feature article," you smiled, hoping this would ease your tension but went all the way around, the minute Toto placed his big warm hand on yours your mind went wild.

Toto's hand is double size yours. Fuck! He only added a little pressure on the handshake and you are already wetting yourself.

What would be like to have his entire body weight crushing you down against the sheets?

Toto's gaze shifted from your body towards your hand, squeezing it a bit. "Nice to meet you, little one. I don't have much time today. But, if you have specific questions about our team strategy or sponsorships, I'll be glad to answer," he said, his voice deep and commanding.

You swallowed hard and decided to push your luck. You tilted your chin upwards, meeting his gaze with a newfound boldness, he stared down at you due to the height difference, and a little smirk formed on his lips before you dared.

"Actually, I was hoping to pepper you with some questions about your life beyond the track. Your passions, your hobbies, that sort of thing."

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes before they narrowed on you. "I don't see how that is relevant to the teams' performance or our supporters," he said, his words snipped.

"Well, I believe that a man as influential as yourself, Toto, has a life worth exploring. Your devoted fans crave a glimpse into your world, and this interview would offer them just that."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a rueful half-smile as if you had struck a nerve. "Smart move, little one."

Then you pushed again, "Also you could inspire young enthusiasts by offering them a picture of a well-rounded individual."

"My stories might not paint the perfect picture.

I have made mistakes and faced challenges along the way," he warned you.

"No one is perfect, Toto, and that's what makes humans interesting." you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity in full bloom. Toto shifted his position and relaxed his body, sensing you getting closer. His big muscular tights spread a bit, and he rested his big hands on them.

"What kind of challenges did you face, if I may ask, Toto?" you dare.

A heavy sigh, "When I first took over as the TP at Williams, many doubted my capabilities. They saw me as nothing but a reckless, inexperienced playboy. But the team rallying behind me and our eventual success at the track fueled my persistence," Toto explained, his gaze lost in your lips. "I've fought battles at work and in my personal life, learning valuable lessons along the way."

Intrigued by his reveal, you asked, "Can you tell me about those battles in your personal life?"

"I don't know if my personal trials will make a good story. Still, there's one I could mention. When my monogamist first marriage began to crumble, my focus on building my career inadvertently added fuel to that fire. I found myself alone and devastated, with my kids miles away in a boarding school," Toto said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Immersed in his story, you wanted to know more. "Did finding love again play a role in your healing process and later success?"

He took a long moment before meeting your eyes again, the intensity of his stare was crazy. "Yes, love found me just when I needed it the most. I met a woman named Susie, who was warm, inviting, and able to understand my urges." The emphasis and deep voice Toto made saying those words, provoked you to quiver. "The ones my previous partners never could." He chuckled softly. "I'm not sure if it was fate or sheer luck."

"Your urges?" your voice echoed throughout the empty room, drowned only by the sound of your accelerated heartbeats.

"I have a constant hunger not only for winning, I..." his eyes are already lifting your skirt.

"What do you crave for?" your voice trembled, enjoying the forthcoming invitation.

"I can show you" his voice was deep and one of his long big fingers was already playing with the hem of your skirt.

Then you dare to intertwine your hand with Toto's as a "yes, please show me", you wanted so badly to lick those big long fingers of his and feel them inside your tiny pussy fingering you relentlessly. His Rolex watch sparkled under the lights and the ring on his right hand shined.

The conversation took an unexpectedly intimate turn. You couldn't explain it, but there was something about the way Toto spoke that tugged at your deepest desires.

Perhaps it was the boldness of the thing he just revealed, that Susie allowed him to have his cravings.

Whatever it was, you couldn't deny your body's response to his words. Every pulse of your heart echoed in your pussy, leaving you flushed and yearning.

You had come to Brackley expecting a generic interview, not a deep dive into Toto's lovemaking life.

He guided you by the hand back to his office and onto the bulky trendy sofa. He pushed you down on it with ease, as if you were paper-thin.

"I won't be an easy lover to forget. But I don't do commitment or romance, only with Susie" he said.

You nodded in understanding, giving him what could only be described as a sultry smile. You wanted him to know you understood well what both of you were up for.

"My little pet" he growled before reaching for you. Your whole body trembled with anticipation as he touched your face gently, swiping his thumb across your lips. Toto was on his feet, making you feel even more small.

You parted your lips slightly, licking his thumb finger, the throbbing in your pussy escalating to an unbearable level.

Toto took this as his cue and pulled you closer, shifting your position with a firm and quick grip, leaving you now knees on the sofa and ass pinned against him.

Lifting your skirt, he rubbed himself against your tiny panties. Oh, the way he manhandles you!

You could feel his hardness pressed against your ass, his arousal evident. He lowered his lips to your ear, whispering huskily, "So you wanted a peek into the raw and real Toto Wolff? I warn you I will not hold back, my little pet." His gaze held yours with the confidence of a predator filling its hunger, and you licked your lips, letting him know you were ready for him.

Toto snaked his hand around, tangling his fingers through your hair, roughly tugging your head back to expose the hollow of your throat.

Your pulse hammered wildly under his harsh caresses as he trailed his lips from your jawline to that sensitive dip.

"Fuck," you gasped, unable to contain the reaction to his touch, knowing this was reckless, zero professional, and wrong but too far gone to care.

Despite his warning, you wanted Toto in a way that defied all logic and you were eager to prove you could handle whatever he gave you.

You could feel his erection trapped against the zipper of his pants. Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, popping the fastener of his trousers. In one swift motion, you pushed his pants and boxers down.

His cock sprung free, thick and long, jutting out from a pair of toned, muscular thighs. The sight of him left you breathless and overwhelmed with lust.

"Fuck, you are going to destroy my pussy with that cock!" you whispered.

He smiled smugly, obviously pleased with your reaction.

You couldn't help but stare as he stood there, completely naked and unabashed. He looked like a Greek god, powerful, perfectly sculpted, and unapologetically male.

"I think I deserve a bit of a peak into your personal side too," Toto murmured, his eyes alight with playfulness. His words caught you off guard, and you raised your eyebrows playfully.

"Remember when I thought I was here for work?" you said and chucked.

"Come suck me, pet" he gestured to you, and you immediately turned around, your ass now on the couch, sitting right in front of him, his dick at your face level due to your height difference.

You started gripping the solid length of Toto's aroused cock, you curved your fingers around him, stroking him gently, eager to satisfy his desperation.

Toto sucked a breath between his teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair as you pumped your hand along his length. Your hand looked tiny around his fat cock. Getting already nervous about how would you fit that thing inside your mouth.

Toto's hand gripped the base of his cock, guiding it towards your lips. "Open wide," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. Hunger burned in his gaze, and you could practically see the animal instincts of the man taking over. "Suck my cock," he demanded you, the forcefulness of his words sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You parted your lips as wide as possible, allowing him to slide his length into your mouth. You gagged slightly as he pushed deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

Toto let out a low groan of satisfaction, his hips thrusting forward as he began to fuck your mouth.

You could feel his cock slid deeper, stretching you past the point of comfort. But you weren't complaining.

His salty taste filled your mouth, making you moan your approval. Toto slid his hands into your hair, gripping it tightly as he fucked your mouth in earnest.

You gagged again, but this time you didn't try to pull away. Instead, you relaxed your throat, taking him deeper into your mouth. You could feel him swell even further, and you slid your tongue along his shaft, creatively slurping at him.

Your eyes were so watery by now, but you didn't dare stop. You'd never seen a man look so entranced as Toto did at this moment, his eyes hooded and head rolled back in the pleasure of your mouth on him.

"Fuck, you take me so good, pet" he grunted, hips thrusting as his length slid in and out of your hot, wet mouth. "Keep going, my little pet, just like that."

You continued to pleasure him in this way until he suddenly pulled away with a hiss. Pre-cum glistened on your lips as you blinked up at him, seeking his approval, he looked so proud of you.

You looked like a total mess, all red on the cheeks, saliva all over your chin, watery eyes, and messy hair.

"Now to the couch, pet" he whispered darkly as he bent, lifting you with ease and tossing you onto the sofa.

You bounced once and landed right in the center.

The air left your lungs as he climbed on top of you, towering over you in all his glory, pushing your body against the fabric, your stomach and hips feeling the pain of Toto's body prisoning you.

His strong arms cupped your head, tilting your face towards his. Toto leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You gasped as his tongue delved between your lips, tilting your head to receive it, your fingers dragging up the muscles in his arms, tracing his veins, he tasted like espresso and the faint scent of stale mint, a carnal, masculine flavor that left you panting and breathless.

Your kiss deepened as he moved away, nibbling at your lips and the sensitive skin beneath your ear, causing you to whimper, with delight.

His hands were everywhere, exploring your curves and leaving behind a burning trail of where his mouth would follow.

"Toto, please," you begged, desperately craving to feel him inside you. Your mind was full of desire, and all you could concentrate on was the hard friction his erect cock set off through your body.

No response at the call of his name, so you dared.

"Daddy, please," you moaned, squirming beneath him. Immediately his hands pinned yours to the sofa. You arched into his touch, savoring the way he finally was exposing you, getting out of the way all clothing items between you.

Toto's gaze immediately fell between your legs, hungry and unyielding, lust radiated off him, staring at your wet folds.

His free hand caressed your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You couldn't help but gasp as he explored you.

You could feel the dampness spreading along your thighs, revealing just how much Toto excited you. Your breath hitched as he moved lower, circling his thumb around your clit.

"Oh, Daddy," you cried out, your voice barely more than a whimper.

A low growl escaped his throat before he replaced his thumb with two fingers, pushing them inside you, tasting, teasing, and sending you into a whirlwind of emotions.

He fingered you hard, getting you wet and splashing drops around and provoking soaking sounds, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

The mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you was dizzying, till you were completely out of breath and begging him to allow you a breather.

Before the head of his big cock burst through the barrier of your tight entrance, stretching your pussy wider than you ever thought possible. Your eyes went wide as you felt him penetrating you.

You gasped, feeling the intense sensation of being filled to the brim. "Daddy!" you moan loud, your pussy throbbed around his cock as it slid in further. "Daddy!"

Toto growled a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers down your spine. He pulled back slightly, then thrust you again and harder, this time driving deeper, ripping open your tight pussy even more.

You cried out, a mix of discomfort and delight coursing through you as he took you, possessing you in a way you only had dreamt of.

"Fuck, you're so tight, pet," he grunted, his voice thick with desire. "Your pussy is so fucking tiny."

His cock slammed into you relentlessly, and you moaned in pleasure with each rough thrust, feeling your body buried more and more. Your stomach pressed hard against the furniture's fabric. You felt the sofa creaking.

Toto's fingers dug into your hips, leaving angry red marks on your skin. You wouldn't have it any other way.

He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You clung to the sofa, your nails digging into the textile as he pounded you harder and harder.

You let out a strangled cry as he hit the spot deep inside you. His name spilled from your lips, a desperate plea for more.

Toto responded by increasing the pace of his pounding, his cock hitting you with a savage, powerful intensity that started to hurt. You will be limping tomorrow.

You could feel every inch of him filling you, stretching you open.

With your lips locked in a fiery kiss, you felt a wave of moisture flood between your legs in anticipation of your climax.

"Such a good little pet" he growled, his voice thick with lust. You kept feeling the sensitive humid folds of your pussy stretch to accommodate him, engulfing him inch by delicious inch.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, teetering on the edge of release, your body tensing as you got closer and closer.

"Daddy, please, I can't take much more of this." you moaned, gasping for air, buried under his entire weight.

He pulled back, his cock coming free with a slick, wet sound. You felt a surge of disappointment and confusion, but before you could even begin to process what had happened, he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over.

Your hands and back landed roughly on the couch as Toto pulled your hips up, his big hands grabbing your ass tightly and pushing you towards him with such force. The change in position left you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable, your pussy slit in full display for him.

Toto stepped closer, his hard cock brushing against your slit. You could feel the heat radiating from his length as he leaned down, his hips hovering above your pussy. "You want daddy to fuck his little pet like this?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, daddy. I need to cum."

"Good pet," he murmured, his voice full of lust.

With a swift thrust, he buried himself inside you, making you cry out in pleasure-pain. Your muscles stretched and clenched around him, struggling to accommodate his girth.

Toto didn't give you a moment to adjust, pulling almost all the way in, and then out, before slamming back into you.

You were still sensitive from the earlier fucking, and you whimpered at the unexpected intensity.

"Oh, fuck, pet" Toto grunted, his fingers digging into your hips, rocking you towards him. He started pistoning into you, his massive cock splitting you wide open again, filling you completely.

With each thrust, you could feel yourself losing control, your sanity slipping away as he dominated you. Toto's powerful big hands gripped your small hips, pulling you back into him.

"Fuck, you wanted this, my little pet, don't you," Toto growled, his breath hot. "I can feel you clenching around me, trying to milk my cock. You're such a little slut, aren't you? Taking my cock like this and begging Daddy for more." Toto grunted, his balls smacking against your clit.

You could feel yourself getting close to the edge, your toes curling with each punishing thrust. "Yes, yes, oh god yeah!" you cried out, your voice hoarse from the pleasure-pain of being so thoroughly fucked.

Toto seemed to take this as a sign to speed up, you could feel him hitting your cervix with every stroke, a painful pleasure to possess you entirely.

"Yes, oh fuck yes, Daddy!" you screamed, your voice echoed through the office.

Your body began to tingle all over, a sure sign that you were close to orgasm. You held on to the sofa edge.

Toto's thrusting became erratic, his breathing ragged as he neared his own release. You could feel your climax building, every nerve ending trembling with the anticipation of release.

"Come for me, pet," Toto groaned.

Your legs were shaking, your muscles trembling, but you held on, desperate to cling to this incredible moment with every fiber of your being.

The room seemed to spin as you tried to focus on the sensation of Toto's cock as it filled you, pounding your body with a raw force that left you feeling small and powerless.

His fingers twisted in your hair as he traced your jaw with his tongue while his cock slid in and out of you.

You let out a moan as he angled himself deeper inside you, hitting your G-spot dead on. He started moving his hips in a slow grind, pressing every inch of himself against your inner walls.

"I bet you feel my dick stretching you? You like it when daddy owns you like this, hmm?"

You could only nod, unable to form coherent words as you submitted to him.

Toto's hand reached down, two fingers teasing your clit in time with his powerful thrusts. You arched your back, impaling yourself even further onto his hard shaft, urging him to continue the delicious torment.

He obliged instantly, expertly manipulating your clit as his cock ravaged your pussy, your hips bucking into every forceful thrust. Your pussy clenched and unclenched, desperately trying to hold onto him.

"Daddy, I'm cumming," you gasped.

Toto's thrusting became even more unhinged, his sweat-slicked body slapping against yours. You could feel him pulsing inside you, and you knew he was holding back too, waiting for you to go over the edge first.

"Fuck, call me daddy when you come," Toto groaned, his voice a guttural growl.

You felt your orgasm arriving, your muscles tensing as you let out a guttural cry. "Oh, daddy!" you moaned hard, as you finally came apart.

Toto groaned, his hips bucking as he sank himself to the hilt inside you, the pulse of your orgasm milked him, coaxing him closer and closer to his own release.

"Fuck, pet," he panted. "I'm so fucking close."

"Fill me up, Daddy," you gasped, still riding the waves of your orgasm. "Give it to me."

Toto's whole body tensed. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and let out a primal roar as he came hard.

You could feel the hot sprays of his release filling you up, and you moaned in pleasure as he emptied himself into you. Toto's cock throbbed and pulsed.

You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies heaving and trembling as you rode out the aftershocks of our intense climaxes.

Toto's body weight lifted from you, his sweaty chest pushing away slowly, as he reluctantly pulled out of you.

Your pussy throbbed and pulsed where he had filled it moments before, and you could feel his cum still trickling out of you, slicking up your inner thighs. You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and your heartbeat beginning to return to normal.

"You were incredible, pet. I knew you would be, from the moment you entered." Toto said.

You smiled, still catching your breath as the words of praise washed over you like a warm embrace.

"I know, I'm daddy's little pet, after all."

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! Can you write a fic where Steven and Marc are jealous of each other about who loves the reader more and who's better in bed? Maybe they could confront reader too

pls make it smutty if you're okay with that

Hello!! <3

Let's see who's better

Steven Grant & Marc Spector x fem!reader

Warnings: Jealousy, p in v, soft dom Steven, oral fem!receiving, smut, nsfw, happy ending.

Steven just got out of the bathroom after a refreshing shower, your sleeping form caught his attention.

"She looks so beautiful asleep. Love her so much." Steven smiled.

Meanwhile Marc felt the need to take part.

*Me too, buddy.*

Steven turned to look in the mirror, seeing indeed Marc with a cheeky smile on his face.

"I love her more."

*No I do.*

"Not a chance mate."

*I met her first.*

"Bloody hell, Marc."

Marc just gave an arrogant smirk.

"If you think that, then let's just ask her."

*You challenging me now, buddy?*

"You bloody bet I did, mate."

*Did you bump your head?*

"No, of course not! Did you?"

Marc and Steven were so into arguing, they didn't notice you waking up.

"Boys? What are you yapping about?"

*Great, you just woke her up.*

"You're the worst." Steven scoffed, returning to the bedroom. "Sorry love, Marc and I were just uh, making bets..."

You raised your eyebrow "Sounded like a sudden deep hatred."

Steven shrugged. "You know how we can get sometimes."

"Yeah, sometimes you two are acting like an old couple." You chuckled.

"Are we that bad?" Steven fiddled with his fingers, making a nervous expression.

"No! You're simply too innocent, Stevy!" You laughed, getting out of the bed and hugging him.

Steven was actually surprised, but he loved the affection from you. While you hugged him, he turned to look back at the mirror to see Marc's face.

Marc's mouth was opened in a surprised manner, he raised a finger as if he wanted to say something, but for once he couldn't come up with anything.

Steven shot Marc an arrogant smile, Marc's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms, looking offended.

Steven couldn't help but laugh a bit.

You nudged his foot with yours. "What's so funny?" you asked with amusement.

"Marc's offended like a child because I emptied all of his aftershave." Steven lied but played it cool.

You snorted before bursting out in laughter. "Wait what?" you gently pulled away. "Poor guy, but he will get over it." you chuckled.

"You're right, he will get over it." Steven said, his tone was laced with pure amusement and arrogance. He glanced back to the mirror, seeing Marc narrowing his eyes dangerously and scowling back at Steven.

"Is he pissed now?" You asked.

"Not even Khonshu would dare mess with him now, pissed is not even close." He lied.

"I never expected you to be so cruel Steven, maybe you should make it up to him." You smiled before heading over to Gus to feed him.

*Yeah you heard her. Make it up to me. Give me the body.* Marc said in their shared headspace.

Steven saw you heading to the couch, flopping down. He took the opportunity to get back to the bathroom again.

"No, I'll stay with her."

*I'm the main. I get to choose.*

"Not now."

*Fuck, who did something to you?*

"You did."

Marc scoffed.

"Steven!? You pissing off Marc again?" They heard you call out.

Steven just left the bathroom and sat down next to you on the couch.

You raised an eyebrow. "Damn, what's up with you two today? Who did you kill?"

"No one." Steven replied a bit nervous.

"Stevennn! Speak with me, what's wrong?" You straightened, turned to face him and crossed your legs.

Steven took a deep breath. "Which one of us do you like more?" he asked carefully.

You tilted your head, giving him a confused look. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope, houndred percent real."

"Not gonna answer that. I love you both."

"Let's say you have to save one of us, who would it be?"

"You two are one body, it's a two in one, that means I'll save both of you." You shrugged. "Now spill it, what's happening between you two?"

"Alright. Marc and I were arguing on which one of us loves you more." Steven sighed.

"And you two really thought I'd only love one of you?" You asked.

*Hold on. Steven ask her who's better in bed. This way she can't come up with the one body excuse.* Marc told Steven, who looked back in the direction of the bathroom.

"Oh my god..."

You figured Marc must have said something to Steven "What did he say?"

"Well, he uh... he asked who's better in bed.." Steven stammered.

You shot a flabbergasted look. "For the protocol..." you squinted your eyes and raised one finger, "you two wanted to know which one I love more. Now it looks like you finally accepted and made peace knowing I love both of you," you paused "and now you want to know which one fucks better?"

Steven nodded.

"Hell no, I'm not gonna answer that."

"Because that one body argument you made doesn't count for sexy time, right love?" Steven smiled teasingly.

"You are unfair. Both of you." You wagged with your finger.

*We got her. Now we have to see who's better.*

"Don't be shy love. Speak." Steven grinned.

"Fine. But I will make it fair. So don't even think about being upset."

"Alright." Steven agreed.

"Marc when I had a rough day, you when it's a normal day."

*Interesting...*

"Really?" Steven teased.

"Happy now?"

"Think you're able to choose?" Steven scooted a bit close.

"Nuh-uh, don't you fucking dare." You uncrossed your legs, scooting back.

"I bet this will make you rethink." Steven gently grabbed your ankles, pulling you close to him, hooking his fingers under your sleeping pants and pulled them down along with your panties.

"Steven?"

"No no, don't think, just focus on me, yeah?" Steven spreaded your legs and leaned down between your legs.

"W-wait not- o-oohh fuck..." Steven didn't even let you finish, he dipped right in, lapping at your pussy, licking and sucking like a starved man about to die.

Steven was licking so intense, your thighs snapped shut around his head.

"Feels good yeah? Wait till I fuck this cunt." Steven moaned against you, his tongue thrusting into your hole as deep as possible.

"What's gotten into you, Steven?" You slured out, already feeling your orgasm building up.

"You. Just you." He smiled, his hand coming up to rub your clit.

"Oh fuck! Steven you're so good!" You're already seeing stars, Steven's demonstrations on you we're almost too much.

"Can feel you getting tight around my tongue." Steven's hand came up, rubbing your clit, determined to bring you over the edge.

"Shit! Steven I'm about to cum!" You cried out in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you couldn't take it any longer, gushing your juices into Steven's mouth.

"Yeah that's it, love." Steven's greedy mouth slurped every last drop of your orgasm up. He got up, licking the remains of your juices from his lips.

"Ready for another one?" He asked teasingly, kneeling between your legs, you could already see his hard cock straining.

"You're driving us mad, y'know that?" He reached down, pulling his raging cock out and positioned himself on top of you.

"And I bet you like it right?" Steven grabbed and lined his cock at your swollen pussy.

"Wait so you two are just kidding?" You asked, still slightly out of breath.

"No, that's real. But you like seeing us jealous, hm?" Steven pushed inside you, already setting quite a fast pace.

You let out a gasp at the overstimulation. "You're starting to get as dirty as Marc." you chuckled.

"Yeah? Good." Steven teased, he slowed down a bit, aiming for deep and hard thrusts.

"Oh god, Steven..." Your eyes fluttered shut, Steven hit your spots with each thrust.

"Told you, love." He teased, rolling his hips just right to make your mind go cockdrunk. Steven continued to switch between slow and deep thrusts and hard and fast ones.

You felt your peak build up once again, tightening around Steven's cock. He felt it and sped up, hitting all your sweetspots as he felt himself getting close too.

"Stevennn!" It wasn't long before you clenched around him and drowned his dick in your juices.

"Fuck, feels so good.." Steven moaned, releasing himself into you before stopping his movements.

"Are you happy now?" You chuckled.

"Only if you say I am the best." He teased.

"Fine, have it." You spoke without thinking before your eyes widened and you remembered Marc as your mind came back to it's senses. "Shit."

"Good answer, thanks love." Steven smiled. "Marc, better accept it."

*Nope. I didn't even had my chance yet...* Marc spoke lowly in the headspace.

You got up, put only your panties back in and made your way to the bathroom to clean up. You didn't know where Steven went, but as left the bathroom and were about to pass the bed you heard a voice.

"Honeeyy." Marc's voice hit your ears sharp. As you turned around, he was already there.

"Hi." You played it cool.

"Hey there." Marc gave a dirty smile.

"Let me guess, you want your piece of the cake now?"

"Yeah. After that we'll see who's better." He stopped infront of you, leaning in close. "And now, get on the bed, spread your legs and let me fuck you stupid."

You obeyed, laying down on the bed, slipped off your panties and opened your legs.

"You two are the worst when you're jealous at eachother."

Marc stepped between your legs, reaching down to run two fingers along your folds, making you whimper. "Means your pussy's getting spoiled."

"Funny."

"Yeah." He joked.

Marc was already hard, he couldn't wait any longer, freeing himself and positioned his cock at your hole, nudging you with his tip. He entered slowly, making you gasp. "O-ooh fuck, Marc..."

"Mhh-mm.." He hummed, slowly starting to roll his hips. The pleasure came back, causing your head to fall back.

He grabbed your hips for leverage, slamming his cock in and out of you. "Can you feel yourself getting cockdrunk, hm?"

"Can't help it." You slured with half your mind drifting off into numbness.

"That's my girl." Marc praised, pulling his cock almost all the way out and slamming right back into your depths.

"Ohh my ggod!" You moaned, arching your back.

Marc leaned down "Honey, I want you to say I'm better in bed if you wanna cum." He demanded, using your current state of mind for his advantage.

You couldn't say anything, the only thing you could do, was moaning.

He chuckled. "Can't think straight, huh?"

You shook your head, getting louder as Marc set a fast pace, hitting the spots deep inside. You gripped the sheets, biting your lip as you tried to say what he wanted in order for him to make you cum.

"You're b-better M-Marc..." You moaned, feeling desperate to cum.

"I'm better?" He increased his pace, feeling his orgasm approach.

Your pussy tightened around Marc's cock. "Yess, please let me cum!"

Marc grinned. "Such a good girl for me. Now cum on my cock."

As if on command, your pussy clamped down on his cock, squeezing tight.

"There you go, baby." He groaned, releasing his cum into you.

Marc stayed inside you while catching his breath, and then pulled out of you. "Fuck... now you may take a shower." he chuckled.

You panted, taking your time to catch your own breath. "I earned that shower."

"Looks like you did." He nodded, tucking himself back in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Made up your mind yet?" He ruffled your hair, smirking down at you.

"You share. Get used to it, you and Steven. I'm not a fan of choosing." You sat up on the bed.

Marc let out a breath, looking at the mirror in the bathroom. "Fine. Steven wanna quit this shit and just accept it? Boss lady demands it."

*Yeah, let's get this over with. But hey, we spoiled her.* Steven chuckled.

"You're right." Marc grinned.

You just raised an eyebrow. "Hey you two, what are you talking about."

Marc looked at you, his hands moved to gently pull you up. "Nothing, we agreed we will be friends again. No more fooling around. Now go get your shower." He gently ushered you before he softly smacked your ass.

You, amused, shook your head at them, making your way into the bathroom for your well deserved shower for the day.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac #marc spector smut #steven grant smut

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dolliethv · 2 months ago

Text

The boy is mine.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! You and Jude have a moment of provocation after a party.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 2,9k

The yacht was silent, only the murmur of the water against the hull accompanying both of your heavy breathing. Moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating your "Jacquemus La Robe Maille Roupao" dress, tight against your body. Jude, standing behind you in his half-open black shirt, black pants, and belt, couldn’t take his eyes off you as you took off your shoes and walked towards the edge of the bed, adjusting your long, wavy brown hair.

"Everyone was staring at you tonight," Jude murmured, his deep voice resonating through the room. "That dress didn’t help much to keep attention away, you know?"

You turned around, narrowing your eyes, placing your hands on your hips. The frown on your face gave you a defiant air.

"So what?" you retorted without missing a beat. "Don’t pretend you didn’t notice, Jude. I saw all those girls throwing glances at you. Some even tried to approach, but I let it slide... just this once."

Jude smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes betraying his intentions.

"Jealous?" he asked, moving slowly closer, reducing the distance between you. "You know I only have eyes for you, little one."

You scoffed, straightening yourself in front of him, though you barely reached his chest. You couldn’t let that comment slide. He always used his height to tease you, and you were ready to play along.

"Little?" you said, raising an eyebrow, challenging him. "You know well that your stupidity won’t save you this time. I saw everything, you idiot."

He let out a laugh and suddenly leaned over you, getting right in your face, looking down at you. It was his classic provoking move. —Damn egotistical ass—

"Oh, really?" he replied, bending just enough so his eyes met yours. "And tell me, little one, how do you plan on dominating me when you barely reach my chest?"

You glared at him, but didn’t back down. You knew if you did, he’d win. With slow, deliberate steps, you moved even closer. You placed a hand on his belt, pulling on it with a firm, sudden gesture that forced him to lean down even more, so close that only a few inches separated your faces.

"You think you can dominate me just because you're bigger," you whispered, almost mocking him. "But you should already know that size doesn’t matter when you know what you’re doing."

Jude raised an eyebrow, seizing the opportunity to throw one of his typical jokes.

"Size doesn’t matter?" he repeated, bringing his face even closer to yours, a double-edged smile on his lips. "Because, you and I both know that in some... cases, that’s not exactly true."

You felt the heat rising through your body, but you weren’t willing to let him take control so easily. Your gaze sharpened, and with a push to his chest, you made him step back until he sat on the edge of the bed, now at your height. Jude looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration.

"Jude, I wonder if anyone’s ever told you that maybe you talk too much for what you can actually deliver," you said, holding your ground in the face of his provocation.

"Don’t act tough," he whispered, his mouth millimeters from yours, starting to caress your hips. "You know perfectly well that I’m right."

You tried to stay firm, but his closeness and the heat of his body were starting to get to you. However, you still weren’t ready to back down. You lifted a hand, placing a finger on his chest before resting your entire palm there, pushing him softly so he lay back on the bed.

"You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you?" you asked, your voice low and threatening. You leaned a little to grab something from the nightstand—a handycam. You turned it on as you kneeled on the bed, positioning yourself on top of him. "But you’re wrong, Jude. What really matters is knowing how to use what you’ve got."

"A video camera?" Jude thought. "This will be fun..."

You leaned down further, pressing against Jude, your smile turning dark and dangerous.

"Believe me, baby. I know exactly how to use what I’ve got. I've never had complaints about the size down there... at least, no negative ones," he responded, supporting himself with his hands, starting to brush his cheek against your chest.

"Are you questioning my authority? Look at me when I’m talking to you," you said, and as if by magic, your words commanded the man beneath you, leaving him in shock at how easily you had just taken control.

He lifted his cheek off your chest, his eyes and slightly parted lips finally showing a hint of surprise.

"Would you like that video to go public so everyone knows that I'm yours?"

"I’d like that a lot, and you know what else I’d like?" you said as your free hand grabbed his chin to keep his eyes fixed on the camera.

“Fuck you really good, mm?”

You laughed and set the camera rolling aside.

You climbed off the mattress kneeling in front of him.

You pulled his pants and boxers down, leaving his member free, inches from his face, hard and thick, veins bulging beneath the thin skin.

At the sight, you pressed your cheek against the length, sighing at the heat radiating from it, hands gripping Jude’s thighs to keep him close. You rubbed the side of your face slowly, not intending to please, but to ask for permission, to show how much you liked his cock, wanted it.

The tip of his cock met your mouth, wrapping your lips around it. You sucked in a way that might have made you look inexperienced, but you supposed that was what Jude wanted as it added to his supposed innocence.

Jude pushed deeper into your mouth, making you part his lips even further, stretching them, giving you that slight burn that reminded you of the size of the cock you were about to take. You could taste the precum, the salty liquid, and it made you reach for more, licking it up at a fast pace. Your movements were sloppy and hungry, aiming to take all of the shaft.

From above, Jude took the camera in his hands, breathing less deeply with each flick of his tongue and his grip tightening on the camera.

You could only see bits of his face, but after the amount of blowjobs you had given him, you could easily imagine what he looked like right now.

A combination of the image in your head, Jude’s strong taste, and the hand that was suddenly in your hair, had you moaning around him, in a wet, echoing noise.

At this point, you were the one leading, but you knew it wouldn't be for long.

"Eyes up, princess."

You locked eyes with the camera lens, a defiant, feline look.

"This is quite a show. Why don't we just stay like this for a while, hm?" He began to fuck your mouth.

You gagged, over and over, and it was so intense that you worried you might actually drown. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes and ran down your cheeks, making it impossible for you to see clearly through his wet lashes.

"That's it. Fuck, baby. You're so good. You take it so well for me."

For me.

Even in your current state of mind, you noticed.

Whether it was intentional or not, that possessiveness made something weaken inside you. You relaxed even more, leaving your body completely to the other boy's use.

They'll never see how his eyelids fluttered from how hard he was trying not to close them, just because he wanted to keep looking at you.

They'll never see how his voice always got stuck in his throat and he'd let out a guttural uh before cumming.

They'll never see how he got unnecessarily aggressive when he was close to his orgasm, not only aiming to release faster, but to please you and make you feel good, in the best way possible.

Jude bellingham is mine.

He lifted you off the floor and pinned you down onto the mattress.

"You want me to fuck you, right?" He asked.

You nodded shyly, your eyes refusing to look at the camera, covering your face. Your cheeks were turning a crimson color from the situation earlier.

“Then beg. Spread your legs and beg.” He said pressing his knee against your pussy.

“Please…” You whispered, “Please, I need it. I need you.”

Jude was quick to continue, stripping you completely in a second, and using one of his fingers to caress your wet folds.

“Here, baby?” He asked, “In this pretty pussy?”

He slowly stroked you in circles and dipping just a little bit of a finger in to tease you.

“Face down, now,” He said as he rested the camera somewhere on the bed making sure the angle was just right.

Knowing that you would soon have Jude on top of your body, his kisses, caresses, and slightly more intimate words whispered only for you to hear, you rushed to comply with the order. Within seconds, you were propped up on your elbows on the bed, ass in the air and head on the sheets.

“Why don’t you tell the camera how you like to be fucked?” the dark-skinned boy said.

It wasn’t exactly the plan, you could feel Jude’s dick pressed against you, wet, hot.

“Hard,” you said.

“Hard,” he said in confirmation, his hands moving from your waist to your pert ass, kneading the flesh. “That doll face of yours doesn’t match how daring you are, baby.”

When he entered you, he did so with much less caution, thrusting in all at once and making your eyes roll back. So delicious.

“Should we show them?”

It hurt so much, but it was such a good pain.

Your whole body moved as Jude pushed your hips, rocking.

Jude pinned your face into the mattress with his hand, and fucked you.

“There you go. Just like you wanted it.”

Brutal, relentless, and spot on.

You could barely breathe with the noises coming out of your mouth without his permission. Your pussy was being abused with each new thrust, making him drool and moan.

Jude towered over you, his firm chest covered in sweat pressing against your back as he pushed your head harder into the sheets.

Forget it, the camera was lying somewhere on the bed, not being able to capture this moment but the desperate moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth.

"Please, ruin me..."

That was what brought the boy over the edge, his hips stopping and his grip loosening for a moment before he forced himself to continue.

You knew your orgasm hadn't passed yet as your pussy was still throbbing.

Jude was cumming with loud grunts as he continued to fuck you.

With the help of Jude's hand expertly rubbing over your clit, you were able to squirt so hard that no sound could leave your mouth for a while. Your muscles tensed and your breathing stopped for a few moments, expelling that clear liquid and splashing onto the mattress.

You stayed still for a moment from the overstimulation, Jude laid down next to you and kissed your shoulder trying not to laugh.

"I fucking hate you" you said because this was definitely not part of the plan.

"I love you too, even when you try to dominate me with your five foot five."

You both laughed together, the tension completely dissipated. You had gone from the jokes, the taunts, and the challenges to a space of calm and pure connection.

As you rested again with your head on his chest, Jude wrapped his arms around your body, closing his eyes.

“Sleep, baby,” he whispered, giving you one last kiss on the head, “tomorrow we will continue arguing about who dominates who.”

“There is nothing to argue about,” you murmured, your eyes now closed. “You know who is in charge here.”

And with one last shared laugh, you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of knowing that, in the end, you would always be there for each other.

#Spotify #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham stories #jb5 #jude bellingham #spotify #jude x fem reader #bellingham latest #jb5 x reader #jude bellingham fanfiction #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #smut #jude victor willliam bellingham

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ana-reblogsposts · 13 days ago

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬

fluff | Academic Rival!Tom Riddle | ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ | Tom Riddle Masterlist | Masterlist

SUMMARY: When Y/N finds herself at odds with a classmate, her unlikely protector makes sure no one else dares to challenge her.

AUTHORS NOTE: Saw a headcanon on how Tom would act if you're ever in a fight.

The corridor thrummed with a tense energy, alive with whispers and glances as Y/N and a Ravenclaw girl stood face-to-face, locked in a fierce argument that had begun over a simple disagreement in Potions class. What should have been a passing spat about a misplaced ingredient had somehow snowballed into a stubborn standoff, each girl unwilling to back down.

The Ravenclaw girl’s face was flushed with anger, her jaw set as she spat, “Maybe if you actually paid attention to your own work, you’d understand why I’m right about this.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with icy resolve. “Or maybe you’re just too proud to realize you’ve made a mistake,” she shot back, her voice calm but cutting. “You didn’t even double-check your notes, did you?”

A murmur ran through the crowd, students glancing back and forth between the two girls like spectators at a duel. A few stifled gasps hinted at the onlookers’ anticipation, waiting to see if anyone would get the upper hand. But just as the Ravenclaw girl’s mouth opened, ready with her next retort, her words faltered.

Her eyes darted nervously over Y/N’s shoulder, widening. The spark of defiance in her expression dwindled as she seemed to shrink back, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere but there. Y/N frowned, about to question the girl’s sudden change in attitude, when she caught sight of a familiar figure approaching from behind.

Tom Riddle had entered the corridor, his presence as commanding and cold as ever. His gaze swept over the scene with an unreadable calm, landing on the Ravenclaw girl and pinning her there in silent intimidation. The air around them seemed to grow heavy, as though he alone commanded it, and the crowd fell into an anxious hush.

Tom gave the Ravenclaw girl a subtle, dismissive tilt of his head. His message was clear: leave. The girl’s bravado vanished in an instant, and she managed only a quick, nervous nod before she gathered her things, muttering a barely coherent apology, and practically fled down the corridor. The crowd didn’t linger long after, some students averting their eyes as they slipped away, others glancing at Tom with wary admiration, before dispersing altogether and leaving Y/N and Tom alone.

Y/N took a deep breath, turning around to find Tom watching her with a faint, almost amused smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“What did you do?” she asked, folding her arms, her tone one of exasperation tinged with curiosity.

Tom shrugged, feigning innocence, his expression infuriatingly calm. “I didn’t do anything,” he replied smoothly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Right. Because she just happened to change her mind the moment you showed up.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but his smirk deepened, his eyes flickering with a playful light as he took a step closer, regarding her with that same knowing look. “You know,” he said softly, his voice low, almost teasing, “the only person you should be fighting with is me.”

Y/N raised a brow, her arms still crossed. “But we’re not fighting?” she replied, her voice defensive.

His gaze sharpened, and he arched an eyebrow with an amused tilt of his head. “Aren’t we?” he murmured, his tone challenging, yet the hint of amusement in his eyes suggested he was enjoying the exchange far too much. She caught the hint of a smirk on his face, one that told her he’d gotten exactly the reaction he was looking for.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, letting out a soft huff as she crossed her arms tighter. “Fine,” she muttered, her lips twitching with an unwilling smile. “Maybe we’re… debating. But that doesn’t mean you need to chase everyone else off.”

“Debating?” he echoed, leaning in slightly. His voice dropped lower, a dangerous warmth in his tone. “If this is what you call debating, I’d hate to see what happens when we’re truly at odds.”

Y/N’s heart skipped, but she held her ground, refusing to back down. “You still don’t need to defend me, Tom,” she replied, though the firmness in her voice wavered under his intense gaze.

He tilted his head, giving a slow, almost casual shrug. “Maybe not,” he said, his voice a quiet murmur, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t.” The words were soft, almost an afterthought, but there was a possessive edge beneath the surface, a quiet claim that left no room for argument.

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she tried to ignore the flutter in her chest. “So, what, you’re just going to scare off anyone who dares to argue with me?”

Tom’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Only the ones who don’t deserve your attention,” he replied. His voice was casual, almost playful, but the steely resolve in his tone betrayed the quiet possessiveness he refused to openly acknowledge.

Y/N scoffed, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “You know, this whole overprotective thing—it’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” He arched a brow, his eyes softening slightly. “I’d think you’d be used to it by now.” His voice lowered, and the cool amusement gave way to something deeper, something dangerously close to affection. “After all,” he murmured, his tone carrying a rare hint of warmth, “I’ll always be there to remind them that you’re not theirs to challenge.”

Her breath caught, his words leaving her momentarily speechless. There, beneath the layers of cold indifference, she caught a glimpse of the quiet, possessive loyalty he kept hidden from the world. She could feel the depth of his words—the way he would always stand by her, even if it meant he’d never voice his feelings directly.

Finally, she managed, “So… that’s your way of saying you’ll always be there to ‘debate’ with me?”

His smirk softened, a rare warmth flickering in his eyes. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice barely a whisper, as if the words were meant only for her. The unspoken promise in his tone left her pulse racing.

They stood in the quiet corridor, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them, until he gestured toward the library. “Shall we?” he asked, his tone returning to its usual calm reserve, though his gaze lingered on her with unmistakable fondness.

With a sigh and a faint smile, she nodded, falling in step beside him. And as they walked down the hall together, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath Tom’s cool exterior lay a silent devotion he’d never admit—and that, despite her protests, she didn’t mind it one bit.

#*ੈ 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #⊹𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 #slytherin boys #tom riddle x reader #my writing #imagines #oneshot #harry potter fandom #harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fan fic #anawritez posts #ᯓ★𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐙-𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒

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byechristopher · 1 year ago

Note

can you make a chris make up sex??? please

Make it up to me.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT, FLUFF.

Author's note: love me some good make-up sex – sorry I took so long to respond! Thank you for the request, dear. Hope you like this. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: smut smut smut. Minors dni! Didn't proof-read!

"I feel a little neglected lately." my voice is timid but I let a little sigh of relief leave my lips.

I am not used to speaking about my emotions loudly like this, expressing them so freely, let alone in front of Chris. He is my boyfriend but I've always had trouble doing that – it's something I've been trying to fix for a while now.

"Neglected?" he has a tone in his voice that I don't appreciate and I am already regretting my decision to speak my mind, "I don't have time to fucking rest, what are you talking about?" he scoffs and leans back, one of his hands still grab the steering wheel and he sighs, fluffing his hair up with his free hand.

"Just forget it." I roll my eyes, leaning back against the car seat as well, glancing out the window, "forget I even said anything."

"Don't play that card now." I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse look at him.

"I'm not playing any cards. Would you rather have me not telling you anything? Because you know damn well I can do that." I shrug, finally looking at him.

"No, I don't want that. But you're being irrational." his eyebrows are raised and so are his shoulders.

"And you're being rational?" I narrow my eyes, almost like challenging him, "I understand that you are busy but when I tell you I fucking feel neglected, I'm expecting.. I don't know.. maybe a little bit of affection?" I cross my arms, "or is that not possible? To ask that from my relationship?"

"Stop being like this. You just have to understand me! I just don't have time!" he tries to defend himself but every time, he just says something that pisses me off even more.

"Well, that's your fucking problem, Chris. Because I'm working a lot too, you know? But I always make time for you, no matter how exhausted I am. And that's what relationships are about! Making constant sacrifices for each other." I try to explain as much as possible, "and I do understand you, I've been patient for a long time but now it's your turn."

"Well I never fucking complained about you being busy!" he knows he's just saying irrarional bullshit now.

"You never had to! Because I've actually got my shit together. You never had the chance to feel neglected." I stare into his eyes, "oh and also, what I just did, was not complaining. It's called 'expressing my goddamn feelings', something that you're terrible at, even more than me."

And with that, I get out of the car, quickly taking out the keys so I can open our apartment door. He makes me so angry sometimes – he is the best boyfriend in the world, but sometimes, he just doesn't get it.

Hours pass by and we haven't said a single word to each other; I refuse to speak to him, until he understands that he has to make sacrifices too. I can't always just chase him around, taking a step back just to avoid conflict.

A knock on the door of our bedroom is what wakes me up from my own thoughts, "can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Chris opens the door and takes a careful glance of me – I am just laying on the bed, under the covers, I am only in my underwear and a t-shirt just to be comfortable. He sighs and lifts the covers so that he can lay beside me, cupping my cheek so gently, his touch is careful and timid.

"I needed some time to think about what you said. And I wanted to apologise." he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "you're right. You're working a lot too, but you always make time for me and I am very grateful for that."

I don't say anything, I notice that he's still thinking, just waiting for him to continue.

"I don't want to make any excuses but I felt very overwhelmed lately because of work, and I didn't want to admit it. I haven't been able to sit down and actually try to manage my schedule but I promise to work on it immediately." he smiles apologetically.

"Baby, I know you didn't do it on purpose." I sigh, "but when I tell you how I'm feeling, I need you to try to understand before getting defensive."

"I know and you are right. It was the part of me that didn't want to admit that I'm actually so busy, so tired and so awful at trying to fit everything in my schedule. This is why I got defensive. Next time I will be better, though." he says and I nod, leaning into his touch, rubbing my cheek against his palm.

"I know you will. We all do mistakes. Thank you for taking your time to think about it." I grin and he wraps an arm around my waist – I waste no time, I immediately press my body against his.

"Of course, baby. I needed to be sure before I come and find you." he sighs and hugs me tightly, sneaking his leg in between mine. I smile and lean in to place a kiss on his lips.

He keeps talking but I am too focused on his lips, or the leg between my legs, or the hands that hold my waist. I listen to what he says but I can feel my arousal burning me. My thighs squeeze his leg and my lips rub themselves against his – I stick my tongue out to lick his bottom lip and that's when he takes the hint.

"What are you doing there, hm?" he hums, his fingers gripping my sides a little harder now.

"I think you need to make it up to me, no? For making me wait all this time while you were thinking." I murmur, my lips going from his lips to his cheek, to his chin and then finally his neck.

He groans and pulls his sweatpants down, not wanting to lose any time either. He places his leg between mine again and I press my clothed pussy against his thigh, making him feel my wetness as I start to rub myself against him.

"I'll make it up to you as many times as you want." he bites down his bottom lip as he slowly takes my shirt off. He's only wearing his boxers and I'm wearing my panties, we're still under the covers.

He grips my waist and I start to fully grind on him, rocking my hips, moving them back and forth on his thigh, "Chris. I want you." I whisper and he smiles.

"I can feel it." he whispers and leans in to take my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it, moaning into my ear as he sneaks a finger between his thigh and my pussy, rubbing it while still putting pressure with his leg.

I almost whine at how much wetter he made me in just one second, and I travel my hand down his body to grab his clothed dick, taking it out to wrap my fingers around it, rubbing up and down his shaft.

He moans and I can feel his body shaking a little bit – he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, groaning around it and biting it gently. I gasp and tug on his hair. He grabs his own cock and brings it closer to my pussy, rubbing the tip of it against my panties, making it even wetter.

"Mmm, Chris.." moaning, I wrap my arms around him, trying to rub myself against his cock as much as possible.

With his fingers, he pushes my panties to the side and starts rubbing the tip of his wet cock against my clit, making sure to run it over my entrance, collecting my juices and then rubbing them all over my clit again.

"Please fuck me already, I am ready for you." I whine, I want to scream how much I want him right now.

He moans at my words and completely takes my panties off. He grabs my leg and hooks his arm under my knee, keep my leg lifted as he teases my pussy. He finally pushes inside of me and I lose it – I couldn't believe I could get any more wet, but apparently I can.

"Shit, baby.. you're so wet and warm." he moans, burying his face into my neck to press kisses all over my skin. His thrusts are gentle and slow as he fucks into me with love, while bruising my skin with kisses at the same time.

I moan and cup his cheeks, making him look at me before attacking his lips with passionate kisses. He grabs the leg that he's been lifting up again, making me wrap it around his waist as he rolls over to his back, making me get on top of him while still being inside of me.

"Fuck.. yes.. like this.." I whisper in his ear – I am completely laying on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs on either side of him, my face buried in his neck and my hands grabbing his hair.

I can hear him moaning my name as he starts picking up the pace, fucking me a little harder this time – his hands are on my buttcheeks, squeezing them and spreading them as he pushes his cock in and out.

"Hell.. I don't think I can last any longer, baby girl.." he curses under his breath and moans into my ear softly, heavy breathing, placing a soft kiss on it.

"I'm gonna cum.." I warn, too, my pussy clenching around him as I feel him lifting my body up and down – I am at his mercy, completely.

"Mhmm, cum on my dick." he whispers and I let out a loud moan, tugging on his hair again. My body is trembling as he gives my butt a little smack and that's all it takes for me to cum with a loud moan of his name.

He groans and starts thrusting into me with a much faster pace, his fingers digging into the skin of my ass as he finally cums inside of me with a loud moan as well. I can feel him filling me up and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

We sit there in silence for quite a while, "I love make-up sex." I mumble against his shoulder and he laughs.

"I love you." he whispers, he hasn't moved an inch, still inside of me.

"Good, I love you too. Let me stay like this for a while."

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baigepueckers · 21 days ago

Text

Nika Mühl X Reader

TikTok Trends

The soft click of the apartment door closing behind you echoed through the hallway as you balanced Nika’s backpack on your shoulders. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but carrying it felt like a small gesture to help her since she was on crutches now, her left leg held tightly in a brace to help her heal from the torn ACL. Nika had been handling the injury like the fighter she was, but you knew it still frustrated her. The hyper athletic, always on the move woman now had to slow down, and that was never easy.

You glanced at Nika, who was standing next to you leaning on her crutches, her brows furrowed in concentration as she made sure her footing was secure. She’d gotten better at using them, but every step still seemed like so much effort. Yet, even on crutches she carried herself with a kind of strength and grace that you admired.

“You okay, baby?” you asked, your voice soft with concern as the two of you made your way down the hallway to the elevator.

She gave you a quick glance and then smiled. “Yeah, I’m good,” she replied, her Croatian accent slipping through in that warm way it always did. “Thanks for carrying my stuff, ljubavi moja.”

You smiled back, nudging her gently with your shoulder as you both reached the elevator. You pressed the button and while waiting, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked, even when she was clearly exhausted from rehab and trying to keep her moral up.

The elevator doors slid open with a quiet ding, and you helped guide her inside. Once in, you slung her backpack down and set your phone on the narrow ledge beneath the mirror, adjusting it to get a good angle. Nika raised a brow, watching you curiously.

“What’s this?” she asked her eyes flickering from your phone to you, suspicion creeping into her expression.

You grinned, biting your lip as you scrolled through TikTok, searching for the trending song. “Oh, nothing,” you said, innocently as the music of Chris Brown’s Loyal played softly through your phone.

Nika’s brow furrowed further. “Babe… what are you doing?”

You laughed, slipping into position in front of the phone as the music kicked in. “Just a little TikTok trend. It’s harmless….” you teased, glancing at her over your shoulder with a playful twinkle in your eyes.

The trend had been all over your FYP lately, couples dancing together, then the person filming would stop mid dance and point at their girlfriend or boyfriend, challenging them to pick up on their que and keep dancing. You were curious how Nika would react. She wasn’t really one for social media trends, but you figured it would be fun.

You began to dance to the beat in that playful way you did when you weren’t taking things too seriously. You saw Nika watching, her lips curling into a smile, her eyes bright with amusement.

“You��re ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath but she didn’t look away, and that made you dance a little more energetically just to keep her attention.

When the chorus hit, you stopped dancing abruptly and turned to face her, pointing dramatically and waiting to see if she’d join in. Your heart pounded in your chest, not because you expected her to actually start dancing (she was on crutches, after all) but because you just wanted to see her reaction.

Nika tilted her head, her lips slipping into a smirk. She didn’t move, didn’t even pretend to go along with the trend. Instead she shook her head at you, the smirk turning into a full warm smile. She lowered her gaze to the floor for a moment and when she looked back up, her eyes were filled with that special softness she reserved just for you.

“You really thought I was going to dance?” she teased, her voice low and affectionate.

You pouted playfully, lowering your arm but not quite ready to let her off the hook. “Come on, baby! Just a little something, for the TikTok!”

Nika leaned into her crutches a little more, shaking her head again still smiling. “I’m not going to dance on crutches, Y/N. But you keep going….you look cute.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a warmth behind it that made your heart flutter.

You sighed in defeat but it was at least worth a try. “Fine, fine,” you said, turning back to the phone. You stopped recording and moved to pick it up, but before you could Nika reached out with one hand catching your wrist gently.

You looked up, surprised and she tugged you toward her, just enough so you were standing close. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “I may not be able to dance right now, but when I’m better…” Her smirk deepened, the playful gleam in her eyes making your stomach flip. “…I’ll dance with you as much as you want, baby.”

Your heart melted at her words, and you couldn’t help but lean in brushing your lips against hers softly feeling the warmth of her breath mix with yours. “I’m gonna hold you to that, superstar.” you whispered against her lips.

She kissed you back, gentle but full of love and when she pulled away, her eyes were still shining with that playfulness. “Deal” she said softly.

The elevator came to a stop, and you both pulled apart as the doors slid open. You grabbed Nika’s backpack as you slipped your phone into your pocket, letting the sweet moment settle between you both. As you both stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway of your apartment complex, you glanced back at Nika. She was moving carefully, but her eyes were still on you and a soft smile played on her lips.

You slowed your pace, walking next to her and for a moment it felt like the world outside faded. It was just the two of you, like always. Sure she was on injured and things weren’t easy, but you knew this was temporary. She’d heal. And when she did, she was gonna be stronger than ever.

Reaching your apartment complex front door you opened it, letting Nika go outside first. As you followed you couldn’t resist one last tease.

“About that dancing when you’re healed…” you started, trailing off while grinning.

Nika laughed, the sound so light and so sweet. “Hey, only if you promise not to make me do another TikTok trend,” she teased back.

You rolled your eyes, closing the door behind you. “We’ll see about that, baby girl.”

#ncaa wbb #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #paige bueckers x reader #wbb x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin x reader #ncaa women’s basketball #paige buckets #seattle storm #kate martin x reader #kate x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader

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junabuggy · 9 months ago

Note

hello!! i saw you wanted requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write some platonic headcanons for the Hazbin Hotel crew with a reader who has chronic pain. (i totally get if you don't want to) thank you so much and I'm excited to see what you write in the future 😺

Hazbin Hotel Crew x Chronic pain having! GN! Reader

A/n: tysm for the request !! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s okay :3 (if there’s anything I got wrong, please correct me)

Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain and disability (but like.. that’s pretty obvious lol)

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧

📻𖤐 After a while of Alastor observing you, as he does with most, he’d notice your body language and think the way you acted was a bit odd…

📻𖤐 Not in a bad way, he just didn’t understand at first why you sometimes visibly look like you were in pain or even just hobbling around to get somewhere

📻𖤐 it definitely raised his brow…

📻𖤐 Before actually approaching you and asking you about it, I’d like to think he made one of the egg boiz spy on you like he did in that one episode 😭😭

📻𖤐 I don’t know what he was expecting though. The only somewhat valuable piece of information he gathered from what the little talking egg had told him was that it saw you taking pain medication. Which did not narrow it down at all and not much of his curiosity had been quenched quite yet..

📻𖤐 So, one peaceful and early morning in the hotel, he decided it’d be best to just ask you about it.

📻𖤐 “My dear, are you feeling alright? You look to be quite discomforted…?” He’d ask casually as he took a sip from his coffee mug, one brow raised and his eyes fixed on yours, pretending like he hadn’t noticed this before today.

📻𖤐 After a chat, he was informed you had something called “chronic pain”. He asked a few questions, nodding when he got the answers and once he was satisfied, he walked off back to his quarters in the hotel.

📻𖤐 After all, he had so much research to do.

📻𖤐 Adding onto that last once I do feel as though Alastor would do more research on it when you decided to tell him about your condition.

📻𖤐 Mostly for his own benefit of learning something new since he hadn’t heard of this before… but it came in handy if you ever needed a bit of a helping hand.

📻𖤐 Like, if you happened to have a flare up or just a particularly bad day he’d sit with you and made sure you rested up.

📻𖤐 He wouldn’t verbally express it but he did take pity on you. How unfortunate you were in constant agony.

📻𖤐 He is a sadistic little fuck though so he’d probably find it mildly entertaining or at the very least fascinating to see what’d make you tick or was a challenge for you

📻𖤐 Although he’d try to be careful not to push you too much.

‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧

🕸️ᥫ᭡ We all know Angel Dust doesn’t have much of a filter so it wouldn’t take him long to ask you why you could barely stand upright for too long or look like you’re genuinely struggling all the time.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ In fact, he’s more perceptive than people would like to think he is. He noticed it shortly after you two had met.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He’d probably come off a bit strong, saying something along the lines of “toots? Ya alright over there? Ya don’t look so uhhh.. you don’t look too hot.” As he gave you a one over.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ You could tell he wasn’t trying to be insulting to you though, he was just concerned and wanted to know what was troubling you. It showed ever so slightly on the spiders face.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Once you explained to Angel your condition he felt bad. Like, huh? Whatdoya mean you sometimes have trouble even getting outta bed in the morning because of how much pain you’re in?? Sometimes you neglect your own basic needs because you’re in constant pain?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ As he tired to wrap his head around the thought, he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to help. Of course though, there wasn’t much he could do.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ From that day on, Angel would try to make things at least a little easier for you. You had earned the title of his friend, after all. Why would he let his friend suffer alone?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He loves to cook and is pretty good at it so expect a few homemade meals on him at least a few times <3

🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you ever had a flare up you better fucking believe he’d sit there with you and just talk. He rambles like an old man lol

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Also 100% has movie nights with you with both of you guys’ favourite snacks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Oh and of course his pig Fat Nuggets would be joining you two

🕸️ᥫ᭡ And thankfully the little guy adores you. Which gains some points with Angel

🕸️ᥫ᭡ The piggy would crawl into your lap if you were up for it. He’s pretty light and his oinks and squeals are bound to make you crack a smile

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel is no stranger to feeling pain, so he knows how much it sucks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ That’s why I believe he’d be one of the best people to tell. You’re his friend and wants to make sure you’re okay as possible.

‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧

🍺🃁 Husker, much like Angel, would notice almost immediately that something was up with you…

🍺🃁 At first Husk couldn’t place it. He just knew that he didn’t often see you standing up straight for long periods of time and that you looked like you were constantly unwell.

🍺🃁 Was it just bad migraines? He’s never really seen you drunk before so it’s not like it could be really bad hangovers.

🍺🃁 Plus, this has been going on since you arrived here so that seemed highly unlikely.

🍺🃁 Husk was the type of guy to keep it to himself though. If it didn’t concern him, why bother saying anything about it?

🍺🃁 One day though, you sat yourself down at the bar and asked for some water. This time however, you looked worse than usual, practically doubled over as you stared down at the bar.

🍺🃁 Even though Husk usually kept his mouth shut.. he couldn’t help but ask if you had a headache or something and if you needed some migraine medication.

🍺🃁 He wasn’t heartless.

🍺🃁 When you shook your head no slowly and told him you were just having a “flare up” he asked what you meant to which you gave a brief explanation of the condition you have.

🍺🃁 Suddenly, it all made sense. That’s why you looked like you were constantly in pain. It’s because you were.

🍺🃁 He slid you the ice cold water gently and observed you for a few moments before going back to wiping the glasses as he spoke to you.

🍺🃁 “If you need something don’t be afraid to ask for it.” He’d say, his deep voice trying to be as comforting as it can while also maintaining somewhat of a nonchalant tone.

🍺🃁 Then, after that, it became routine for you to sit at the bar with him.

🍺🃁 He definitely wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know you and since you had a place to just sit and rest, he got to see you more often.

🍺🃁 you swiftly became good friends with him and he was pretty helpful when it came to your condition.

🍺🃁 he’d do his best to check up on you often :)

‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧

🗡️☪︎ Vaggie heard about your chronic pain from Charlie so there wouldn’t be a need to tell her about it lol

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d be a little awkward with attempting to help you out…

🗡️☪︎ Like it’s not like she can really make you feel better so it’s a bit of a struggle for her..

🗡️☪︎ But she does try her best though because she cares about you. You’re her friend.

🗡️☪︎ After a few motivational words from Charlie she’s good to go, attempting to comfort you.

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d try to help by grabbing you stuff you wanted or needed and chatting with you.

🗡️☪︎ She’s actually quite fun to converse with, she’s pretty sweet when she wants to be and can hold good conversations :))

🗡️☪︎ She’s a good listener so if you wanted to vent or just had something on your mind, she’d listen.

🗡️☪︎ During flareups, Vaggie would just stay by your side and wait it out with you, if you needed anything, she’d be on it and would be back pretty fucking quickly too 💀

🗡️☪︎ Would put a random show on if you wanted a distraction and might let you rest your head on her shoulder if you so desired

🗡️☪︎ I can’t think of much else for her other than the fact she’d try her best. Maybe mess up a few times but ultimately she means well and tries to be as understanding as she possibly can be <33

‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧

⭐️☀︎ The first thing you did when you arrived at the hotel was inform the very excited daughter of Lucifer that you had chronic pains so you might have to take it a bit slow when showing you around the Hazbin Hotel..

⭐️☀︎ And of course, Charlie being who she was, was very understanding and accepting of that fact.

⭐️☀︎ She’d heard about your condition before so making accommodations for you wouldn’t be an issue

⭐️☀︎ She’s a sweetheart so quite literally your biggest supporter

⭐️☀︎ Like, oh? You need something??Ohmygodwhydidntyoutellmesoonerhereitis :33

⭐️☀︎ Much like Vaggie, she’d sit and talk with you during your flareups

⭐️☀︎ Maybe make you a tea and discuss future plans and such for the hotel to get your mind off of things. Works sometimes surprisingly enough.

⭐️☀︎ She’s nice to talk to, very comforting vibes

⭐️☀︎ But it may get a bit annoying how many times she asks if you’re sure there’s nothing she can do to make your pain go away somehow lol

⭐️☀︎ Or even just how many times she asks if you need something. “Do you need anything? No? Are you sure? Okay…. But are you really sure?”

⭐️☀︎ Might stress herself out on occasion over it tbh😭🙏

⭐️☀︎ But she only means well, you know that.

⭐️☀︎ Her cat Keekee I’m sure would love to cuddle, the cute cyclopean kitty pushing its forehead against your hand for pets (only if you’re up to it, of course.)

⭐️☀︎ Asides from Angel, Charlie would definitely be the best person to tell in the hotel because like… genuinely she just wants to help In any way she can lol

‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧

🧼𐙚 Niffty is quite blunt as well, very out there and doesn’t really think before she speaks half of the time it just kinda comes out 😭

🧼𐙚 So.. she’d probably take one look at you, and ask why you’re in pain.

🧼𐙚 To which you’d explain to the little one eyed maid your condition, she’d think about it for a moment before asking a shitload of questions about it to which you answer :))

🧼𐙚 Other than that I don’t think Niffty would like… really do much?

🧼𐙚 Maybe clean for you

🧼𐙚 But there’s not much else she would do, realistically, she might forget about it and then ask again. Once you remind her she remembers tho lol

🧼𐙚 During your flareups I do believe like the others she’d sit with you for a while…

🧼𐙚 Before spotting a roach and scurrying off to go take care of the pest. Once done, she’d come back and the cycle repeats.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

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