#and a few other small things that that follow the same principals

[kaiyunsim]

silver lining —

pairing : top student!sion x troublemaker!reader

summary : detention is supposed to be boring, until the school’s top student shows up with the world’s worst excuse. turns out, they might’ve broken a rule just to sit next to you.

warnings : fluff, kind of cliché, featuring ni-ki from enhypen, ni-ki is such a troublemaker too.

a/n : i love laufey. i love silver lining. i love nct wish. also trying out a different writing style... lmk any thoughts :)

queueing : silver lining - laufey, talk - beabadoobee, left right xg, mona lisa - mxmtoon

— wc 1.3k — not proof read —

you shouldn’t have done it.

stupid ni-ki.

“y/n, detention for vandalism” your teacher reports, “you need to stop getting these, it might affect your permanent record.” she continues. she isn't mean or commanding, she just sounds like she actually cares and is looking out for you.

you look up to her, “just me this time?” you ask with a smirk of nonchalance.

“well, is there anyone else i should call?” she asks, wondering if you're going to rat anyone out.

but that's not something you would do.

"nope, all me" you say, feigning innocence. it was all ni-ki's idea but you're not the type to tattle on anyone who hasn't been caught.

under the teacher's, more like principal's guidance, you stay afterschool in the same classroom.

it's just you, like it usually is. life isn't fun without a bit of thrill, and people just don't wanna have fun.

while inside you just sit around, you stare outside the window next to you. it's something you've started to do while the staff started to take away your phone when they realized that you were texting other students to help break you out of detention.

among the crowd of people leaving the school, ni-ki's face catches your gaze as he pulls his eyelid down while sticking out his tounge. you should've called him out to the teacher.

a few minutes pass and you're laying your head on your arms, trying to pass the time. you close your eyes, thoughts starting to drift to—

knock. knock. knock.

you raise your head, startled. you look to the teacher's desk, like they accidentally locked themselves out the room (has happened before). agianst your suspicions, you find that the teacher is present and at their desk. she also looks surprised, not expecting more people to come.

she gets up and checks on the door. your thoughts immediately think that ni-ki got caught in his own shenanigans. when the door get opens you see the face of someone who doesn't belong in the detention class, oh sion.

oh sion is notable for being the top student of the school. highest grades? oh sion. teacher's favorite student? oh sion. student favorite? oh. si. on.

you did not expect to see him knocking on the detention classroom's door. you just assume he's dropping something off for the teacher, he always does small things like that. such a teachers pet.

"hi, mr. kim sent me here" sion explains to the teacher who now looks in disbelief. you share that same expression as sion locks eyes with you for a moment, giving you a smile before being sent to your neighboring desk.

you just glare at him, not in a mean way or anything, just analyzing the situation. like, why would the top student be in detention? he catches your glance, where you immediately glance away, trying to avoid any conversation.

he just slumps, leaning his head on his arm. "man, it's boring here." he mumbles.

you turn back to him. you probably shouldn't talk to him, you are the biggest troublemaker. but the way he's just there makes it seem like he wants to talk.

"why are you here?" you ask, genuinely curious about what he could have possibly done to be here.

he looks at you, "um... cheating on a test" he responds, sounding unconvincing as ever.

an awkward silence follows.

you don't believe it. "yeah, right."

you glare at him more than before, but instead of just analyzing him, you're trying to dig for the real reason he is here. he kinda just freezes in your gaze and the awkward tension increases.

when the teacher leaves for a moment, you take it as your opportunity to ask, "okay so what's the real reason? you here to help me break out?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood, especially with the atmosphere.

"listen, maybe i'm just done being the perfect student." he replies, not sounding even a little bit more convincing than before.

you just react with an imperceptible smile.

as time passes on, you lean to the nearby window catching some sleep while you're here. while you do so, you feel someone staring at you. you slightly open your eyes and turn your head to see sion just blatantly staring.

“si… on?” you mumble, voice coated with drowsiness.

all of a sudden, the table seems to be the most interesting thing in the world. sion immediately looks towards it, now avoiding your own stare.

you make some slight notes of how he's acting, but your brain malfunctions due to just getting up from your nap.

after slowly recovering and rubbing your eyes, you start to notice small things that sion does. some things like tapping his feet at a fast pace, small glances that end up with him looking at another direction, and small taps from their finger that make some slight noise on the table.

it makes you think... sion's nervous..?

he's definitely not as calm as he usually seems.

you check the time on the clock. 3:30pm. 30 minutes left.

"god, this is taking forever." you comment, taking your attention towards the window which now has fewer students, only the ones staying for after school activities. you're kind of surprised to not receive a reply back from sion, he commented earlier so you kinda just expected one again.

you turn to see what caught him busy and just see that he is writing on paper. correction, he isn't doing homework like you though he would be doing, he's just doodling on some piece of paper.

this top student really is weird...

you peek over, curiosity winning on the inside. "you doodle?" you ask.

he freezes for a second, not expecting you to notice him doing his own thing. "sometimes."

"let me see"

he offers his paper, covered in drawing to you. it’s not amazing art, but it’s thoughtful. little sketches of windows. hands. the corner of a locker. shadows that look familiar. just things that he likely thought were interesting to look at.

but then you swear your heart stops, just for a second, a small drawing which is practically recognizable catches your eye. a more detailed drawing of someone with their feet on a desk, leaning back.

“…is that me?” you asked

sion doesn’t answer right away. instead, he rests his cheek on his fist and smile, just barely. "maybe.”

the room suddenly feels smaller. quieter. heavier. that and the teacher who is supposed to be supervising you probably isn't coming back.

you push the paper back. "you're weird"

"and you noticed," he says with a smile that you swear you've never seen before, and you've seen him practically everywhere. it's hard not to.

somehow, that breaks the tension. not by erasing it, but by naming it. giving it space to exist.

"so why did you do it?" you question.

"what do you mean?" he questions back.

"why did you get detention" you clarify. "i know it's not because you cheated on a test, you wouldn't do that"

he just stares for a bit, like he's about to admit something.

"well, we were in class and you were gonna be in detention alone..." he mutters. "and i kinda told the teacher that i was a part of your thing with ni-ki"

you just stare with wide eyes.

"what the fuck... you're insane" you say jokingly. "so you're here cause of me?"

"basically"

you just smirk, nudging him in the process. now you think he's cooler than just the normal top student you originally thought he was.

just like that, detentions over. the teacher still isn't back but you both just get up and exit the classroom. a small silence is present as you hesitate.

"so see you around..?"

sion gives you a look, amused. something softer in his expression than usual.

"probably sooner than you think"

tysm for reading :>

nct wish taglist :

perm taglist : @s0shroe @minoouz @the0p @mon2sunjinsuver

[starryficsfinishwen]

spring thief — xiangli yao x f!rover

(listen to this song while you're reading)

Peach blossoms usually sprout small buds.

A tiny, fragile thing. In spring when the tree blooms, its petals are perched on its branches, enclosed like hands in prayer. Sometimes they stay there, sometimes they fall onto the ground. When they do, awaiting hands always catch them, careful not to break them open.

While others believe its fragility is its downfall, only a few know of its true essence; waiting for the season when its pretty petals would open, the sweet smell dancing in the air. Xiangli Yao is no stranger to such occurrences, being a genius not only in the automotive field, but also in the nature of things. Watching a particular thing, glancing at sleepy eyes under the shade.

Like the peach blossom buds, somehow, you were there, too—waiting.

In the afternoon haze, a golden hour shade over the Academy, Xiangli Yao notices your sleeping figure.

Buried in the heaps of scrolls and papers, your head rested on your arms as you tried to nap. Albeit your workspace is plastered by the window overlooking the ocean, the blooming peach blossom as your source of shade—a good place for productivity, you claimed, being in touch with nature and your workplace—a few rays of sunshine still caresses your cheeks.

In hindsight, you looked like you were working hard with your head down. But between the Principal Investigator and you, the esteemed Rover of Jinzhou, you both knew it was far from that—a lazy weekday afternoon away from the pressure.

“I don't think you're faring any better,” Xiangli Yao chuckles at your nth attempt to block out the sun with the heaps of paperwork, “Shouldn't you move to another place, maybe, away from this?”

Fluttering your eyes open slowly, you pouted as you watch him lean to your predicament. “No...I don't want Baizhi to examine me again.”

“So you resorted to doing my paperwork.”

“Mhm...”

“...to which you tried to sleep on it.”

“Sorry!” You scrambled to sit up, tired eyes fighting to close again, “I promise I didn't drool over them.”

But Xiangli Yao gently places his hand over your head, lightly lowering it down back to the desk. “Honestly I don't mind, even if you drooled over them. Go back and take a nap.”

Helplessly, you followed his instruction, allowing yourself to relax in his hold. By the time your head had completely nestled back in your arms, you watched Xiangli Yao mimic your actions in the opposite direction. Resting his head on his robotic one, he tilts his head to meet your eyes.

“...Huh?”

Purple eyes glint in amusement. “I figured I'd share Mortefi's rage with you.”

You burst into fits of giggles. “Really? I thought you hated being scolded by Mortefi.”

Reflecting your joy, his smile makes his eyes close. “There are far more important things other than this paperwork.”

Using his free hand, he boops your nose. “Your sleep, for example.”

A comforting conversation between good friends. That was what you were to each other; despite the science of the unknown being in the way, Xiangli Yao guides you through it all, while you were there to be his muse in finding answers.

“I can't recall my sleep being as important as your paperwork.”

“Didn't you say Doctor Baizhi is preparing to examine you again?”

“I do, but I really just want a small break for now,” a small whine escapes your lips, “It hasn't been a week since the Moon-chasing festival.”

“True,” He hums, “Oh, it wasn't enough for you?”

Shifting your position so your chin is rested on your propped arm, you shake your head. “Of course not. I had so much fun...”

Your mind fondly remembers the event—bright lights, the moon, loud laughter, and the warmth of a familiar hand. Trailing to meet the same purple eyes in your memory, ones that looked at you, mirroring you.

At some point, before you could even say anything else, there was an irregular knock behind you. Looking back, you watched the peach blossoms sway with the wind as they fall to the ground, the flurry of flowers turns into a storm. Bracing yourself from the impact, you quickly try to shield the both of you, but a warm hand stops you.

“Oh, it must be time.” Xiangli Yao speaks as if this occurrence was something natural.

Looking back at him, you said, “Are you sure this isn't a storm?”

“It's pretty normal, to me at least.” He shrugs, “If you think about it, was there anything normal in Solaris-3 at this point?”

He makes sense. Relaxing in his hold, you mutter, “But still, it's so new to me.”

“I've always seen it happen whenever it's almost summer.” Xiangli Yao stands up and approaches the window. The flurry of flowers is still there. “It means that it's coming.”

Opening the window, the fresh scent of the tree almost drowns you. A few small petals and buds enter through the opening, landing on your lap and hands. Watching the man in front of you catch a few flowers in his robotic hand, a fond look in his gaze.

“Have you ever heard of the story of how trees, even as old as this one, can still bloom despite the years?”

Gently taking the buds in your hand, you glanced at the man, “No, what was it about?”

“Jinzhou may be young, but the trees have long been around even before its birth. And they only knew of our ancestors' love, a love that resonated so long, that it echoes even until now.”

Some buds and petals litter your hand. There was a tiny one, resting not too far from your pinky finger, so you pick it up. “And...?”

“My mother tells me that the reason why the peach trees here still continue to bloom,” He sighs, before a smile graces his lips, “It's because of love.”

The buds in your lap, as if listening to Xiangli Yao's words, slowly bloom in your touch. In awe, you continue to touch the blossoming buds, the tacet mark in your hand slightly glowing, “My mother believes that the resonator who can make the flowers bloom is a 'spring thief'.”

All of the buds in your lap have fully bloomed. Yet, the tiniest one in your hand hasn't. You triy to touch it, in every angle, but still, it hasn't. You look up to see Xiangli Yao's tacet mark in his robotic arm glow. The words are clear to you.

“The harbinger of summer. But they should also be driven with the same motivation for it to happen.”

Purple eyes find yours when he turns on his back. Walking toward you, Xiangli Yao kneels in front of you, reaching out for the one in your hand.

“The 'Spring Thief' has to be in love, too.”

With your combined touch, the tiniest bud blooms, with the sweetest smell and being the prettiest among them all. And Xiangli Yao, like that night, looks at you—fondly, softly, and only you.

Have you ever looked at Xiangli Yao this way? Have you ever noticed how pretty he was, drenched in the golden hour glow, the flurry of blossoms dancing outside? The sun's rays mimic a tacet cord, haloing over his head, capturing his face like an angel. Perhaps he is an angel, having spent his mortal days walking on Earth. And his words, honey and true, have long been clear to you.

“I-” The words choke you, but still you can't look away.

“I'm not asking for your immediate answer, [Y/N].” He brightly muses, “In any case, I'm sure that summer is coming.”

Taking your hand in his, bringing it to his sweet lips, he whispers, “The 'Spring Thief' has come to bring summer once more.”

Peach Blossoms have the sweetest bloom this season.

I'm down bad for this man, I love him

COME HOME OKAY??? I LOVE YOU XIANGLI YAO

p.s. I had a dream of my potential crush so this scenery was the inspo

— starry

[mack-mack-mack]

Very Demure, Very Mindful-Toto Wolff

First time posting on Tumblr. I think you all would appreciate this more here than on AO3.

Summmary: Mr. Wolff was the…most interesting person to work with. He was always willing to participate in a trend, but he always took extra convincing. I have to basically beg on my knees every time I step into his office asking for content. He seemed to enjoy watching me struggle and I still don't know how to handle that. It felt like I was losing a game I didn't quite know I was playing.

or

Toto is very mindful, very demure (We all saw the video).

I love my job. I swear I do. I mean how many get to say they follow the Mercedes Formula One team around, convincing them to participate in social media challenges and trends?

Unfortunately, some days it was an impossible task. On other days, it was the best job in the world. Today was one of those rough days. 

George was the easiest person to make videos with. He was charismatic and funny. The audience ate him up every time. Lewis was an enigma. I was terrified of the man. He was way too cool for TikTok let alone casual conversation with the social media manager. The crew was always eager and the junior divisions often came up with their own ideas…that they would send me at all hours of the day, begging me to do whatever it was the next time they were together. 

And then there was Toto. 

Mr. Wolff was the…most interesting person to work with. He was always willing to participate in a trend, but he always took extra convincing. I have to basically beg on my knees every time I step into his office asking for content. He seemed to enjoy watching me struggle and I still don't know how to handle that. It felt like I was losing a game I didn't quite know I was playing.

He flusters me. He makes me blush and I have to fight the giggles that try to escape when he speaks to me. And then he makes this really intense eye contact and I forget how to breathe. Every. Single. Time. 

It wasn't right to have a crush on the Team Principal. But honestly, who didn't? Have you seen him? Can I be blamed? No. 

I had already collected footage of George, Kimi, and a few others for the day. That was easy and it was fun. Lewis wasn't in today so his photoshoot from the last race weekend would suffice. Huge weight off my shoulders, really. If I had to work with both Lewis and Toto today I don’t think I would have survived.

Maybe I’ll post a Roscoe slideshow and count that for Lewis. I’ll text his agent later. 

I nodded and wrote down a few notes on the outline attached to my clipboard, noticing the limited content I gathered while at headquarters. It was race weekend so everyone was heading to Zaandavort in a few days. I knew I would end up with more footage over the weekend and plenty to edit before we left. 

It was time to visit Toto though. Which meant I had to stop avoiding the office at the end of the hall on the top floor and actually speak to the older man. I checked the watch on my wrist and saw it was 4:30. I had an hour to get up the nerve, talk to him, film things, and not melt into a puddle at his feet. Easy.

Most people had left the office already, preparing to jet off the next day, so it was silent as I made my way to the elevators and up to the top floor of the building, turning left at the landing. I took a deep breath, shaking out my hands as I approached the end of the hall. I stopped in front of his slightly ajar door and gave myself an internal pep talk.

You're a bad bitch and you will not succumb to Toto. He is just a man. You eat men for breakfast. 

I rapped on the door three times, waiting for the response from inside.

I heard the tapping of keys cease after a moment and then an accented voice spoke, “Yes?”

I pushed the door open with shaky hands, “Hi, Mr. Wolff,” 

He smiled when I walked in and shook his head, “I’ve told you to call me Toto,”

“And I told you I can’t do that, sir,”

The man stared at me from behind his desk, his head tilted and the same small smile on his lips. Very kissable lips.

Stop it.

“Very well. Come in. Shut the door.” He motioned me into the room.

I walked in and stood in front of his desk and closed the door behind me. I walked to his desk but didn’t sit down on any of the plush chairs. I was far too jumpy to take a seat. 

“How can I help you, dear?” Toto asked standing from his seat, coming to the front of the desk, and leaning a hip against it.

Did he just call me dear? Why is he so close to me?

I resisted the urge to take a step back, maintaining the foot of space between us. He was close enough I could smell him and it was already starting to cloud my senses. 

“Umm,” I had to remember the question. What did he ask?

He arched an eyebrow at me but said nothing as I stuttered in front of him. Was he smirking? Did he think this was funny?

“I-uh. I need some social media content from you if that's okay. There's this trend that everyone is doing right now and the crew thought it would be the most funny if you were the one to do it. And I have to listen because they are so right. It would be hilarious. Really it would. But only if you want to, Mr. Wolff. It’s silly really,” I was rambling. I shut my mouth mid-thought and stared up at the man in front of me.

“It would be funny if I did it, you say? And why is that, darling?” He was fully smiling now, his eyes sparkling with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

“So there’s this trend, right? And it's really silly,” I was repeating myself. I want to crawl into my skin, “Basically there was this creator on TikTok who made a video and it blew up and now everyone is making videos saying ‘very, demure, very mindful’ and it would be funny if you did it cause y’know…um,” I trailed, fidgeting under his unrelenting gaze.

“Because I’m so very demure, very mindful,?” Toto cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I mean, I um well...I mean do you feel demure and mindful, Mr. Wolff? I can’t tell you how you feel so do you feel demure and mindful? If you don’t want to we won’t make the video and I’ll leave you be. It’s really okay, I’ll ask George to do it this weekend. It’ll be funny too,” I couldn't stop talking. I always word-vomited in front of this man. Have since I was hired. I am praying for the day he finally decides to shut me up.

He just stared at me, that same look still dancing in his dark eyes. I stared back at him, frozen in place. I could feel my cheeks getting hot. 

Please stop looking at me like that or I’m going to combust.

“What was that, darling?” Toto asked, licking his lips and leaning back onto his hands. He looked at me from foot to head and came back to rest on my face.

“What was what?” I asked quickly, too quickly.

“You’re going to combust if I look at you like this? How am I looking at you, then?”

I said that out loud. Shit, I said that out loud. 

My eyes widened and I felt my mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land, “I am so sorry, sir. I just meant. I mean I. I-. Shit. Shit, I can't say shit in front of you. I’m going to stop talking and I am going to leave. Have a great day, Mr. Wolff,” I placed a foot behind me, ready to turn and run out of the office and go home. I wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.

It could've been worse. I could've said a lot worse.

“Wait,” Toto reached out and grabbed my hand.

I froze staring down at my hand in his. 

What the fuck? Why is he holding my hand? 

I looked back up at him and released the breath I had been holding.

“Yes, sir?” I whispered, my voice barely audible through the tightness in my throat.

“You need to stop calling me sir or I might be the one to combust,” He whispered back, equally as quiet.

What? Did I hear him right?

“Sir, you're my boss. It’s kinda the thing to call you,” I replied, confused.

“Ah, ah. I am not your boss. I do not give you directions or sign your paycheck. I already feel wrong enough, do not call me your boss and make it worse,” Toto tugged me closer, taking the gap between us from a foot to mere inches. 

I gasped sharply at the movement, afraid to look away from our hands resting on his lap.

“Make what worse…sir?” I looked at him through my lashes, pulling my lip into my mouth.

He tracked every movement, his hand tightening around mine.

“You don’t want to know, dear. Somethings are better left unsaid, yeah?”

We were whispering in the quiet room as if someone nearby would hear us. As if the building wasn't empty at almost 5 o’clock the day before race weekend began. 

“But what if I do? What if I want it to be said? What if I want to make things worse?” I met his eyes finally, nerves or butterflies churning in my stomach. I couldn’t tell. I don't think I cared all that much. The way he was looking at me was enough to clear any anxiety I was feeling. 

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say, dear. Only say things you mean not things you’ll regret,” Toto’s eyes were hooded, as he looked at me, brushing his thumb over my hand.

“I like living on the dangerous side, Mr. Wolff,” I did not recognize the voice that came out of me.

I do not do dangerous. I don’t ever do dangerous. What am I saying?

”I told you not to call me that,” His voice had gone deep and husky and it was doing something to me that I didn’t want to admit. 

“Make me, sir,” Who the fuck was she? That couldn’t have been me, no way. 

Toto made a noise in the back of his throat and it sent shivers down my spine. He pulled me closer, placing one of his free hands behind my neck. I was inches from him. I could feel his breath on my skin, “I am going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

I nodded, my eyes falling shut, my head tilting up. He pressed his lips to mine and every thought left my mind. He was so gentle, nothing like I thought he would be but somehow so much better. His hand was firm behind my neck, keeping me in place. We were still holding hands and he continued rubbing his thumb over mine. 

He slowly explored my mouth with his, moving his lips with mine. He lightly licked my bottom lip, requesting entrance. I opened my mouth, letting him in, begging him to take me. 

The kiss deepened. He removed his hand from mine and moved it to my hip, squeezing gently and pulling me close. I was standing between his open legs, hands at my side, still in shock from what was going on.

Wait what was going on?

I pulled away, somehow, “Wait, wait, what is happening, Mr. Wolff?”

He looked at me and chuckled softly, “I am kissing you. I would like to continue to kiss you and much more if I am being honest with you, darling. Is that okay?”

”Yes but why?” It took all of me not to fall back into him but I needed to know. I couldn’t just let this man kiss me out of nowhere without some kind of explanation.

”Because you are beautiful. And you are strong. You are kind to others and very funny. You are excellent at your job and I admire you. I want to do this because I want you and I have for a long time. And I see the way you look at me. I see how red your cheeks become and the way your breath catches when I get close. I know you want this too. Am I correct, darling?” His gaze didn’t move from mine, captivating me in its intensity. He was being honest that much I could tell.

I nodded taking a shaky breath, “Yes. You’re right. I do. I really do, Mr. Wolff. I-“

He kissed me again, crashing our mouths together, an effective way of shutting me up. He tugged me to his body, his chest and mine pressed together. His hand on my waist went around to the small of my back, pulling me until our bodies were completely flush. I could feel every inch of him against me. Every inch.

I laced my fingers into his hair, moaning quietly. He bit into my bottom lip, then licked into my mouth. We stayed like that, pressed together, exploring each other for a while. I couldn’t tell how long I was lost in Toto’s embrace.

He pulled his mouth and pressed it to my ear, “What can I do to you?” He pressed a wet kiss to my neck as I took in what he said.

”Anything, sir,” I was breathless, his lips leaving flames everywhere he pressed them.

”Anything?” He asked in my ear again.

I nodded, choking on another moan.

”Lovely,” He stood from his desk and turned us around. He put his hands under my thighs and lifted me onto the desk, pushing things out of the way. Some pens and files fell to the floor and he made no move to pick them up. I placed my hands on his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt. He nodded and made a soft noise, urging me to take it off. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his strong shoulders. I dragged my hands down his toned chest, taking in every hard plane and soft angle. 

Toto tilted my head to the side to gain better access to my neck. He continued his journey off my neck and down my shoulder, pulling the neckline out of the way to reach my skin. The hand that wasn't in my hair was fiddling with the bottom of my shirt, silently requesting me to take it off. I promptly yanked my shirt over my head and I heard him let out a low chuckle.

”What do we have here?” He asked, raking his eyes over my naked abdomen and breasts still trapped in the dark lace of my bra.

 He ran his hands up my hips and sides and back down, his calloused thumbs a perfect contrast to my soft skin. His mouth was warm as he pressed his lips to my collarbone, working his way across my chest. He hovered his mouth above one of my nipples, his warm breath raising it to attention. He took it into his mouth and bit down lightly with his teeth, then licked it to soothe the sharpness. He moved his mouth to the other side, leaving a wet splotch in his wake, and did the same thing, until my breasts were aching to be set free. I arched my chest, begging him to touch me, please me, anything. 

“Someone’s eager, isn’t she?” Toto’s hands were on the top of my thighs and he slowly spread them further apart. 

He fell to his knees in front of me, and I stared at the top of his head in shock.

Toto Wolff, team principal of Mercedes, was on his knees in front of me kissing my thighs. What the fuck was happening?

“What are you doing, sir?” I asked, placing my hand in his hair and the other on the desk behind me. 

“I plan on eating a little snack. Is that okay?” Toto looked up at me, a smirk on his swollen lips.

Holy fucking shit. He wants to eat me out. How the fuck is this happening right now?

He pulled off each of my shoes one by one, cradling my calf in his hands as he did so. Toto raised his hands to the waistband of my pants, popping the button and slowly taking down the zipper. He let his hands drift back up to the bare skin of my stomach again, gentle fingers dragging across my skin, leaving goosebumps behind. I let out another shaky moan at his touch, fisting the hair I held in my hand.

He drew his mouth down from my belly button over the open seam of my zipper. He used his hands to start shimmying my pants off of me. I lifted my hips so he could continue pulling them down and off my body. He drew a hand up my leg from my ankle to my knee to my thigh and back down. Then his mouth followed a similar path on the inside of my leg. I was in a daze, his mouth had me entranced. My breath was ragged and my hands were barely holding me up. I let out a louder moan as he licked a long strip up my center and continued kissing down my other leg. He let out a hungry growl as he did it. 

I panted quietly, feeling the wetness I knew he tasted through my panties. I needed him to hurry up,  “Mr. Wolff, please, sir,” 

“I love when you beg for me, darling,”

I softly moaned at his words, feeling myself clench around nothing.

”Please,” I said again, reaching for him, to drag him closer to my middle.

”So needy for me,” He whispered on my inner thigh before brushing another kiss there.

He tucked a single finger into my underwear, feeling the desire gathered there. He traced his finger down my slit, gathering some of the slickness, removing it, and then sticking his finger in his mouth, maintaining eye contact the entire time, “So fucking good, baby,”

My thighs tensed around his head and he turned his head to press another kiss to my thigh. I placed a hand in his hair, tugging him forward.

He kissed me through my panties again with a breathy laugh. He placed a finger on each side of my hips, under my underwear, and tugged them off, until I was completely bare before him. 

I should be nervous. I really should. But I wasn't I just needed his mouth on me as soon as possible. 

Toto looked up at me again, waiting for my nod of consent.

”Please, Toto,” I said. 

”Sir. You call me sir,” He pressed his mouth to my core, kissing directly onto my clit, sending a shock through my system.

”Fuck! Yes, Sir.  Mr. Wolff, I need you,” I moaned loudly, my hand clenching in his hair. 

Toto licked a stripe down my slit and back up, circling the little swollen bundle of nerves. He took it into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing it and going back towards my entrance. He dipped his tongue, lapping up the pre-cum already collecting. He grabbed one of my legs and placed it over his shoulder, changing the angle and driving himself deeper into me. He moved his hand from my thigh and dragged his thumb from his tongue to my clit. His thumb pressed against the bud and worked it in circles while his tongue was moving inside of me.  

The noises I was letting out were filthy. He continued his silent assault and I felt my orgasm building. He removed his mouth and pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh. He took one long finger, inserted it in me, and curled it, immediately hitting a spot deep in me that made my hips buck in response.

Toto tsked me and lightly bit down on my thigh as his finger continued working me. He added a second finger and brought his mouth back to my clit.

”Mr. Wolff, I’m not going to last much longer,” I panted out, feeling the precipice approaching rapidly.

”Good. Come for me, darling” He curled his fingers again and took my clit between his teeth. That did me in.

My entire body tensed and I exploded on Toto’s fingers, walls clenching around him. 

“That’s a good girl,” Toto purred, continuing to draw the orgasm out of me. 

My body stopped shaking after a moment and he removed his fingers from inside me. He took them into his mouth and licked them clean. 

I stared at him wide-eyed, breaths coming rapidly, watching him clean up. He stood and reached over his desk to grab a tissue. He patted the inside of my thighs, removing the dampness there. He reached down to the chair by his side to retrieve my panties before gently sliding them back up my legs. Neither of us had spoken yet.

He stood up and stepped between my legs, placing his hands on either side of my face.

”Are you okay?” Toto whispered, thumbs brushing my cheekbones.

I nodded and he pressed his lips to my forehead before wrapping his arms around me. We stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other. 

We pulled away when I shivered as the air conditioning kicked on, realizing I was still in my panties and bra.

Toto bent to help me collect my discarded clothing and handed it to me. I pulled on my shirt and pants and tugged back on my shoes. Toto stood watching me the entire time and I glanced up to meet his gaze when I was done.

“Yes, sir?” I asked, a blush warming my cheeks.

His eyes flashed at the word choice and he shook his head, “I want to do that again soon,”

I giggled and looked down, “Okay, Mr. Wolff,”

He shook his head at me, stepped forward, and placed another kiss on my forehead. 

“Mr. Wolff?” I said a moment later when he pulled away.

“Hmm?” 

“We still have to make that TikTok,”

He threw his head back and laughter erupted from him, “Maybe at the paddock we can do something, yeah?”

I nodded and smiled at him, “We can make that work. I’ll draw something up for us to do,” 

Toto stared at me a moment longer, “Do you want to go get dinner, darling?”

I looked at him, slightly shocked, “Dinner?”

Toto nodded and moved behind his desk to grab his things and shut down his computers.

“With me?”

“Yes of course with you. I know it’s the wrong order but I figured we could go out to eat,”

My mouth dropped open “Like a date?”

Toto looked up at me, confused at my confusion, “Yes like a date,”

I nodded slowly waiting for him to say Nevermind.

He did not.

“Okay. Well. Okay. Yeah, let me get my things then. I need to stop at my office,”

Toto grabbed his jacket and his bag and came around the front of the desk, “Let’s go then,”

He took my hand in his and started tugging me out of his office. 

“Yes, sir”

[mushroom-words]

At the Water's Edge || Wednesday Addams

Fandom: Wednesday Pairing: Wednesday Addams x GN!Reader Words: 1315 Note: This has been rewritten and reposted from a previous blog. Warnings: None. Just some skinny dipping. Summary: Wednesday finds you in your safe place.

LEAVES DANCED IN the chill breeze under the moonlight. The water rippled gently, lapping at the shore as though to welcome its nighttime visitors. Nocturnal nature had always called to you more than what thrived under the sunlight. It was more beautiful in the manner of a haunting mystery. Not knowing what lurked behind the curtain but feeling its serenity embrace and calm your mind.

        You slipped out of your shoes and let the lake caress your toes. Nevermore rested on the hill behind your silhouette. Lights burned in the windows to speak for its constant state of vigilance. Not always active but never slumbering. It cast its faint glow upon the body of water in front of you as though in competition with the moon and the stars.

        This was where you felt most at peace. The academy kept you safe within its archaic walls, but the lake welcomed you home. You yearned for night to fall so you could sneak out of your hall and let the water wash away the day’s stress. Nobody had caught you yet, and you intended to keep it that way. Principal Weems would have your head if she knew of your nocturnal activities. Especially with a killer loose in the area. And Ms. Thornhill might have tried to be your friend, but as the charge of Ophelia Hall, she was obligated to report to the headmistress.

        You undressed and waded into the lake. It enrobed your skin like ribbons of silk. Sand and smoothly eroded stones massaged the soles of your feet the further you sank into the water. When it just barely covered your chest, you dipped beneath the surface to acquaint your entire body with the natural pool. You returned to oxygen only a moment later and wiped the droplets from your eyes.

        “What are you doing?”

        The sudden voice prompted you to whip around to face the shore. You feared one of the staff had finally caught your nightly rendezvous. But standing by your pile of discarded clothing was none other than the girl who had haunted your thoughts since her arrival.

        Your gaze swept along the grounds before settling back on Wednesday. “I could ask you the same thing,” you said. “Do you have a habit of spying on people?”

        “It’s more of a hobby.” She stepped closer to the water. The moonlight reflected off her pale skin like an ethereal mist. Her dark eyes studied you, but unlike most of Nevermore, it didn’t intimidate you. Ebony hair framed her face in its signature braids.

        Wednesday Addams was an outcast even in a school designed for outcasts. Not many students attempted to get to know her. Most tended to stray away from her. You found comfort in spending time around her without having to fill the silence with meaningless small talk.

        “Did you follow me?” you asked.

        “I saw you sneaking out. I was curious.”

        “You mean you wanted to see if I was the killer.”

        She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Wednesday had become obsessed with hunting down whoever or whatever was responsible for the recent murders. Your time with her had offered you only a glimpse into how her mind worked. She appeared cold and calculating, but you knew her interest in the case stemmed from more than just the thrill of a good mystery. Wednesday Addams cared about her newfound family whether she acknowledged or admitted it.

        “Well, I’m not.” You waded in the water for a few seconds of silence that could have been construed as awkward or tense had you not been used to it around her. “You should join me,” you offered. While this time was supposed to be yours, a part of you reveled in the idea of sharing it with Wednesday.

        She gave you a wary look. “Why?”

        The water rippled around your naked body as you shrugged. “You put too much pressure on yourself. This is how I relax. It might be good for you too.”

        Wednesday hesitated. You thought maybe it seemed as though she were considering your words. You didn’t honestly expect her to take you up on it. But you knew not a lot of people thought to include her in their activities.

        “You don’t have to,” you said. “I just thought I’d extend the invitation.”

        To your surprise, she lifted her bag up over her head and let it drop next to your clothes. Her cardigan followed a second later. Then she paused, just standing there at the water’s edge, and you wondered if she was actually going to join you or if she was about to pick them back up and retreat back to the academy. Leaving you to wade by yourself once more.

        You didn’t say anything as she stripped down until she stood nude before you. While you had never particularly thought of Wednesday as shy, it did surprise you how comfortable she seemed to be in her own skin. You’d expected her to maybe leave her underwear on if she did decide to take you up on the offer, but there she stood in all her glory, the moonlight dancing across her naked flesh in a soft glow.

        You thought of averting your eyes to grant her some privacy, but it was nearly impossible to do. Almost enamored by the way she seemed to embody an ethereal goddess of the night.

        None of the other students at Nevermore captivated you like Wednesday Addams. Her enigmatic presence drew you in like a sailor to a siren’s song. Her macabre beauty haunted you in the most heartfelt of ways. Some might consider her a tortured soul, but you knew nothing tormented her about her dark and twisted desires.

        She knew she was fucked up in the societal gaze, but she didn’t care. It was who she was. You admired her for being herself despite what anybody might have thought.

        The lake welcomed her as her body glided beneath its waters. She waded closer to her but kept her distance. You’d observed over time how her personal bubble seemed to be exponentially wider than most people’s. While she now did not necessarily seem to mind you reading or studying beside her, you still tried to give her at least the width of a table in space.

        You smiled at the skepticism blaring on her features. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to stay with me,” you told her. “I appreciate you at least giving it a chance.”

        “I’m not uncomfortable.” Her vigilant stare darted around the natural perimeter of the lake before settling back on you. “I’ve never done this before. What do I do now?” she asked.

        “Whatever you want. Relax, go under, whatever you feel like.” Your hands flowed across the surface of the water, letting it ripple around your fingers gently as you disturbed the tension. “I usually just stand here and close my eyes. Really soak in the nature, you know?”

        To accentuate your point, you let your eyes and took in a deep breath. The cool night air filled your lungs with a refreshing amount of oxygen before you released it back into the universe. Her presence did pose some distraction to you. You were almost hyper-aware of her movements. But you tried to slip back into your meditative headspace. You came out to the lake to relax, and you still wanted to do that regardless of the company.

        The water shifted around you. Her arm brushed yours just enough for you to feel. You opened your eyes to look at her. Wednesday had her own eyes closed, and for the first time, you saw her features soft. No tension or caution guarded them. She looked peaceful.

        A smile touched your face. You closed your eyes again, finding ease in her presence as you both let the nature wash over you.

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #206

1. Hello! Thank you for all the work that you do! I'm looking for a fic I read a while back that I seem to have lost. Honestly I think I found it through Tumblr and maybe even this blog but I can't find it again 😭 It's set post s2 while Azi is supreme archangel, and he comes down to Earth with Crowley to plot how to stop the second coming. For some reason I don't remember, Azi also has a hotel room where he rents + watches p*rn. There's lots of angst on Crowley's side, with him getting his hopes up every time Azi visits that this time he'll stay and lots of tension that ends up with smut, but also makes Crowley feel worse cuz he thinks Azi's just using him for booty calls. Sorry it's super specific 🥲 Thank you so much x - anon

2. hiya, I#m looking for a fic where Azi and Crowley are priests. The met when they were younger in training and were seperated across the country because they were caught being intimate. They later meet again at a priest meeting thingy and realise the other is still interested in them. Then there's nsfw stuff happening in the shower. I'm too stupid to figure out how to properly work the ao3 tags sooo i'd apreciate the help :)) - anon

3. Hello! Thank you for all the hard work that is put into finding these fics. I have been trying to find one where Crowley eats live animals like a snake but doesn’t want Aziraphale to know. He gets really hungry and they go to the ritz and he looks at a dog and wants to eat it and realizes that he needs to eat (it might have been a small child he was looking at). He goes to the bathroom and Aziraphale finds him eating ether a rat or a cat. Thanks :) - anon

4. hello! i'm looking for a fic that i haven't actually read. an artist i follow mentioned a scene from it in one of their posts, but they can't remember the title and recommended asking you. its a fic scene where aziraphale attempts his first temptation - tempting an apprentice at a bakery into taking home a few leftover loaves that otherwise would have to be thrown out. fics where aziraphale tempts people in general would also be greatly appreciated! it's a niche i'd love to see more of. - anon

5. Hello! First of all, you are wonderful and your blog is life saving! So, thank you. Second, I'm searching a fic and I hope it's still on ao3. It's a fic where Aziraphale hears 3 conversations the same day about the principe of giving back to your partner (and not being a pillow princess, in on case), and so he decide to do nice things for Crowley because he is scare that otherwise Crowley will leave him. So he try to find gifts and things to do that Crowley like, but it's not working very well and then he want to try to please Crowley in bed and that's when Crowley ask what's the problem is. After Aziraphale explain himself Crowley explain to him that doing things for Aziraphale and giving him gift make him happy. It finishes with a sex scene where Crowley pleasure Aziraphale. If you can find it that would be marvelous! - @myladycrow12

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[pissedoffenby]

Hello, today I thought I'd share something very funny with all of you. There are a few things to remember; the first thing is that the memories of the events I talk about are years old, and I'm only drawing on them today. Secondly, I'm from a small town in Indiana, and the club that I am talking about in this story was sponsored by the school itself.

With that being said, let's begin.

I was a rather vocal and opinionated person in my later teenage years. So when I was told that my school and the Government class sponsored the Young Republicans and young democrats club, I knew I'd be able to fit right in and voice my opinions and views to be debated. Little did I know just how memorable I'd be as a young Democrat or even as a young Democratic Socialist. The setup was rather....shall I say Jerry-rigged. We had 45 young Republicans and 36 young Democrats.

During club sessions, we would always find ourselves in different scenarios and debates, and we'd consistently enact them as if we were in the United States House Of Representatives or The United States Senate. Our Vice-Principal would act like the President of The Senate. During specific club sessions (once a month or so), we'd be honored to have our state congressional leaders join us for debates and other club activities.

On one very specific occasion, we were joined by four of our state congressional leaders, two from each party. The debate came down to the Second Amendment reform argument that had plagued even the Federal government for decades. I was the only Democrat on my side who had the spine to stand up and debate this subject, especially since this session followed immediately after the Parkland School Shooting of 2018. I brought my research to my podium while one of the Republicans from the state House of Representatives was waiting on the gym floor to debate.

The question was posed of how to curtail the epidemic of gun violence in the country, and I was given the chance to begin the debate. In all of my research, I concluded that the best approach would be to return to a Reagan-era gun policy. I further argued the point with not just state gun-related crime data but federal data as well. Comparing and contrasting the data from the start of those policies until that point. I even believe I outright said, "Regan." After proving my point, the State Republican Representative was given a chance to rebut, and he even said, "I can't follow that up." After that debate, all four representatives shook my hand and admitted that they were just outwitted by an 18-year-old with absolutely no political experience whatsoever.

On a separate occasion, six members of the state congress and state senate joined us. Three from each party, two state reps, and one state senator. Before the session even began, though, all the state congressional leaders asked me the same question. Which was, "Are you the kid that said Regan?" to which my response was simply"Yes." The topic up for debate was abortion reform and the possibility of an abortion ban in my state. I was the only Democrat on my side that raised their hand. Noticing a pattern yet? The debate got heated as I was battling a Republican who kept bringing up his stance instead of having a substantive answer to the question at hand. When it came time for my rebuttal, I laid into this guy.

Telling him that if an abortion ban were enacted, it would put millions of lives at risk in our state alone and that instead, Roe V Wade should be codified into law as it was. Bringing up that women and anyone who could get pregnant were already fighting an uphill battle just for the basic principle of bodily autonomy. I believe my exact ending remark was that this whole discussion was the precise definition of a, to which one of the State reps added "Cluster fuck" and I thanked him for the addition. Even after all of that, they still shook my hand afterward, and even the Republicans were asking why I wasn't one of them.

The final story I'll share happened in 2016, right around the Presidential election. Our clubs were told that we would go to the State Capitol building and tour both chambers. After the tour, we were told that we would join in on a state senate hearing that wouldn't, unfortunately, ever see the light of day. Our parties were split down the aisle, and we were shown to our seats. The chairman of the committee we were joining that day looked at me and said, "Aren't you the kid who said Regan?" I again responded with "yes." He smiled and suggested that I be the chairman for the day. Obviously, I'm absolutely freaking out. I was told to look at the agenda and ensure that my colleagues were staying in line and being respectful.

After a while, my debate came last but certainly not least. It was a topic that I had already debated a few times, and I used the same argument for funding public education. The chairman, however, asked me to prepare a new argument because it was a debate based on funding increases with an incentives/rewards system from standardized testing. Not wanting to be one to disappoint, I did just that. When I re-entered the room, I saw the now-former governor and former Vice-President Mike Pence waiting for me. I am now (rightfully and honestly) shitting my pants. The debate began after being given a minute to shake away the cobwebs. Governor Pence did his best to throw me off guard with specific points he brought up, but I stood on solid data and beliefs.

My rebuttal was incredible, with the first statement out of my mouth being, "My apologies for the language, but is anyone actually buying this crap?" I then roast him on point after point, bringing up my school's state test scores and how we actually received a bump in funding due to our athletic program, not test scores. What made me popular with all of the teachers in attendance was when I mentioned that we should be paying our teachers more regardless of test score averages. The thing that made me less popular with everyone in the room was when I mentioned that I am a self-described Democratic Socialist. I didn't lose my step or stride even after a collective gasp. I continued, stating that if Pence knew what damage he had already caused, he would abandon the state testing system altogether, start paying his teachers more, and invest in his students more than an everyday soccer mom would(no offense to any soccer moms reading this).

After that, a shock revelation, and a hell of a tirade, I still gotta a standing ovation from everyone in attendance when Pence conceded. After the session, Governor Pence walked up to me and shook my hand personally but then asked the same question. "Aren't you the kid that said Regan?" to which I responded with a simple "Yes."

Fuck you, Pence.

[winterfireblond]

⁴WHAT IF??

You're one of the newest addition to the teaching staff of Nevermore just turning a year in service, but you're too familiar with the academy since it's your alma mater living after graduation to pursue college then return to teach. Since then you already got your eyes set to your former principal, now boss/colleague; Larissa Weems.

You have to bite back a moan everytime you got a whiff of her perfume when she walks near your vicinity, or have to cover partially your face to hide your blushing face and all-teeth showing smile when you see her around. The urge to stop anyone from talking to her especially in staff meeting (the adult ones only), you got nothing against them or the students particular, it's just you only want her attention to you. You love teaching and so the students but you are making sure that they'll never have to go to the principal directly unless you can intervene so less interaction for them. Well, you got somehow an idea when you fell for the woman yourself the same age as most of the students.

One time when she went to the Weathervane for some short time break from work and to indulge herself a little with a fresh chocolate drink, her favorite. You followed her secretly, despite your busy schedule for the day teaching your classes and taking up another task when no other teaching staff is available. But you got it handled, given that you can duplicate yourself. It's taking a lot with your body not to collapse from the effort but you will not miss an opportunity to be with your sunshine even from afar. You and your duplicate self wear the same outfit, a hoody and a black pants your usual outfit everyday. You watch her got out of the establishment walking to where she parked her car a little secluded from the usual since the ones near the cafe is fully occupied. You waited a few moments before following her making sure that no one suspects you of what you are doing. When you spot her, a man is behind her spitting insults towards the students and the school, but the one's that really triggered it all when the man insulted Larissa, you saw her stop just outside her car take a deep breath and turn towards the man with a small smile and excused herself then get inside the car, starting the engine then drive back to the school.

You will not let this slide, not when you saw the hurt in her eyes, how tense she become when she's supposed to have a little break from stress. And so you plan something to somewhat avenge her from the man. No one gets so mean to your love and gets away with it, not if you can handle it with your own hands.

Your real body is with your students, now you're getting a little distracted with fatigue and the emotions you're sharing with your other self. But thankfully the ring of the bell indicating the end of classes is heard then the happy noises of the students one by one living the classroom. You are left alone, you sat back down to calm yourself and collect your things opting to end the day early and retire to your room. You stand up to head out now but the sudden movement caused you to loss balance and take your things with you when you fall down the floor, vision turning black and noises fading from your ears that you didn't heard her call your name or shout with panic when she saw you almost slowly falling. But at least the man get something he deserved for hurting this goddess of woman trying to wake you up with evident worry in her eyes for you...

(Continue with your own choosing)

LARISSA WEEMS X obsessed Reader

Yeah... Did I forgot to post this the last time after I'm sobber?? YESSSSS 😆

Also I'm very aware of plot holes and the likes >.< XD

[chaoticorganizedmess]

Masterlist | Events | Dabi Masterlist

• Demon - a malevolent supernatural entity. Demons are often also thought to be subordinates of a principal Devil. As lesser spirits doing the Devil's work, they have additional duties— causing humans to have sinful thoughts and tempting humans to commit sinful actions.

I'm a Soul Man

Dabi (Demon) x F. Reader [Quirkless AU]

You go out to blow off some steam with your girlfriends for the night. While venting, you mention how you'd sell your soul for things with your lovelife to be different. It's just your luck that someone overhears that could help you with that.

Warnings: Smut below💋👇🏻; TW: Slight dubcon; Breeding kink; Slight degradation; Praising; Fingering; Oral sex(Receiving); Barebacking; Creampie; TW: Religious overtones

"When one calls upon a demon, one must be prepared for death to follow." - Margaret Rogerson

"I'm tellin' you guys, it's been horrible. I swear!" You punctuated your statement with a loud groan before downing the shot in your grip. One of your girlfriends standing behind your barstool rubs your back reassuringly. "You'll find someone one of these days." You shrugged but declined to scoff at her. Your friends were only trying to be supportive.

You're out drinking with a small group of girlfriends after a long week. Not only has your job been an extra pain in the ass for you, but your lovelife hasn't faired much better. So you drown your troubles with alcohol as you openly gripe about your recent love life.

The choices you've made in men and women haven't been great. Lately, you've been stood up or ghosted completely, uninterested in the individuals, or they've been incompatible in bed. The list goes on.

Then there's Keigo. When you bring up your longtime on-again/off-again love interest, some of your friends glance at each other or roll their eyes at the mention of his name. They know what's coming. It's been the same story for years now.

They aren't wrong, either. You go on to explain how you guys still have lots of fun together. How there's still feelings there for the both of you. However, Keigo says he wants an "open" relationship with you right now.

Unfortunately for you Keigo holds the key to your heart, even though he wants to put it in his pocket for now. So you aren't interested in investing your time in a relationship he won't stay faithful in. No matter how tough it is to move on from him.

"I'm so sorry, honey.", your one friend coos sympathetically. "Yeah, we hate that you're goin' through all this." You just shrug in response. You down another shot and mention of drinking at this bar more often. "At least he hasn't told me 'no' yet.", you slur as you jokingly point to the bartender.

The girls attempt to continue their best to be encouraging. Although it's sweet, the alcohol is starting to warp your attitude and their support is just beginning to annoy you. "I'd sell my soul to find a half decent guy who actually likes me around here.", you comment as you down another shot.

What you don't notice is the shadowy figure that shifts in his spot at the end of the bar a few feet away. Your closest friend sees your temperment begin to change and know it's time to cut you off. "Come on, Sweetie. Let's get you home."

Half of the girls help get you out to the SUV while the designated driver starts it up; the other half stays and pays the bar tab before making sure nothing is left behind, then exit and climb into the vehicle now idling out front of the bar.

When you make it home, most of the girls wait in the car while your best friend gets you inside. She helps you change into pajamas and into bed. Getting you a bottle of water to sit on your nightstand. You mumble a slurred "thank you" into your pillow while she kisses your forehead and tells you to text when you wake up in the morning.

You're snoring before she even locks up and leaves your place. Engulfed in the comfort of your bed. The window is cracked the slightest bit so you could feel the cool breeze moving over your hot skin. A few hours quickly come and go before your eyes suddenly blink open.

You're woken up in the middle of the night. It's near pitch black in your bedroom, but it's not the dark that has you nervous. It's the fact that you know there's someone there with you. You shoot upright in bed, hugging your blankets as close to your body as you can. Your eyes scan the darkness, trying to make out any figures nearby.

Your gaze lands on a spot across the room that seems somehow darker than the rest of it. After a few moments of staring, you start to second guess yourself. Maybe it was just all the alcohol coursing through your blood that had your mind playing tricks on you.

That was until the shadow began to shift and move. "Why don't you turn on the light, Babydoll." You nearly jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear the voice you don't recognize. It's clearly a man, but know that no guy you know would play such games with you.

"Go on.", he instructs, urging you to turn the light on again. Despite the terror building in you about the unknown around you, you obey. You lean over and feel for the lamp before clicking it on. Still keeping your eyes trained on the shadow.

When the light fills your room, you think that it's still your imagination running wild. However he's quick to assure you it's not. As if he could actively read your mind. It's still hard for you to wrap your brain around the view of the man you see before you.

He sits at the end of your bed. He's in a plain black suit with black tie. He has black, spiky hair and beautiful turquoise eye color. His skin is miscolored with a purple hue underneath his eyes and along the bottom of his face. You notice after a few moments they look like burns and are held to the healthier skin with staples.

Despite his looks, which some might call unsavory, you think he's rather handsome. He must sense what you're thinking because his quiet chuckling breaks you from your staring. You rub your eyes harshly. "I must be dreaming...", you stop and blink at him but he continues sitting there with a smile, "..o-or I'm still drunk." You snort unhumorously, "Yeah. Definitely drunk."

You flinch when he reaches his arm towards you. "Don't be scared, little mouse. I'm not trying to hurt you." You don't relent but remain still as he leans over and with his pointer finger touches the middle of your forehead. Suddenly, you're sober as a judge.

"W-What did you just do?", you question as you eye him suspiciously. He simply continues to smile. "I just wanted to help ya, and I'd like to help ya again." You narrow your eyes. "Help me with what?" The man simply shrugs as if it's nothing. "I want to give you what you asked for." You perk up and lean closer to him.

Before you can clarify what it is you asked for, the man rises to his feet. Almost like he's bored playing '20 Questions' with you already. He paces as he explains what he overhead you say at the bar. He clears his throat, and in your own voice, continues with "I'd sell my soul to find a half decent guy who actually likes me around here.".

Your eyes widen as big as saucers. "How did you do that?", you ask. Demanding to know but still full of curiosity. He simply gives you a half smile. "Just a little trick I can do."

He comes close to where you sit in bed and leans down to cup your face with one hand. "Let me give you what you've been looking for. What you've been wanting so badly." He looks deep into your eyes, almost reading loud and clear that you're going to be willing and pliant.

"What are you?", you question in a hushed tone. Almost as if you were scared to ask, or maybe too scared to find out the answer. "Someone who's wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. Someone who's liked you since watching you."

"My name is Dabi," replies before getting so close to you his lips brush against yours, "and I'm a demon." You lean back in shock and let out a quick laugh out of nervousness. Dabi seems to get a very serious look on his face for a moment, but it drops once he realizes you weren't laughing at him and never continued to do so.

Dabi stands up, straightening to his full height. It's obvious he's tall with a thin body. He's smiling again. "Look, I swear I'm still a half decent guy for a demon. I just have a job to do." He grabs the blankets bunched in front of you and gives them a playful tug.

"Come on, Babydoll. Lemme show you what you've been missin'." He tugs a little harder and you allow your covers to be slowly pulled away from you. When you feel an enormous amount of cool air on your skin you look down.

That's when you realize you're completely naked. How is that possible? Sure you were completely smashed when you got home, but you were sure your best friend helped you change. Even a few minutes ago you were positive you were wearing your pajamas.

You begin to panic and cover yourself as much as you can with you hands. "Stop it.", he commands in a soft voice. He takes your wrist in his hands but holds them with a lightened grip. "Don't fight it. Lemme see you." You suddenly feel like your mind is getting hazy and you comply.

"Fuckin' beautiful.", he whispers as he drinks in the sight of you. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." He glances up and sees the vacant expression on your face. That brings out a smile full of teeth and satisfaction from him. He softly runs his other pointer finger from in between your collar bones down the middle of your body. "You gonna let me give you a preview?"

You don't expect what happens next. When you nod, he immediately slips the finger into your core. "God be damned.", he comments with a snort. "You're already soaked f' me." He's only in and out of you a time or two before you're moaning up a storm. It's just a few minutes later that you feel an orgasm coming on. When you're just at the edge, he removes his finger and you let out a whine.

"You wanna cum?", he asks playfully. You nod eagerly though, not playing around. Dabi absolutely loves the pleading look in your eyes. He doesn't think it could get any better until you grab his white shirt with both hands. "Please!", you beg and he pretends to think it over.

"I'd love to...", he replies coyly, "...so how about we make a deal?" You continue to nod and beg. "Yes, please. Deal! Please...". Dabi simply shushes you. "Don't worry, Darlin'. You'll get what you deserve." He leans in close, "We just have to seal the deal with a kiss." You nod and lean in, closing your eyes and kissing him deeply. Wrapping your arms around his neck.

He indulges you. He wasn't trying to just finalize the deal but make the most out of being with you. Had your eyes been open, you would've seen his true form. White hair, full horns out and all. However, when he pulls back, nothing looks amiss. You almost look sad. Did you just make a mistake? Was he going back on his own deal?

Dabi steps over to the end of the bed where he was sitting before. The forlorn look you have is priceless to him. He'd almost be entertained if he wasn't so enthralled by you.

If he didn't want you so badly.

Dabi removes his suit jacket and places it in his previous spot. "Don't worry yourself, little mouse. I'll make you feel good." You beam at him, shifting in your spot in anticipation. He slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, making it a show for you. Once he's shirtless, your able to see he's not just thin but has an athletic build.

Something you can't miss over his rippling muscles is more purple skin. It's still held to the good skin with more staples. It seems to be a random pattern, but you could tell it wraps around his entire body.

You're too captivated to notice the clicking sound of his belt coming undone but when he drops his pants your mouth instantly waters. He's certainly equipped for the task at hand. Not too long to hurt but girthy enough to fill your hole just right.

Now fully naked, he begins to crawl up the bed and over you. That makes you slink down and lay on you back until he's completely on top of you. Dabi kisses you deeply before moving to your neck.

Once he's happy with the purple marks he leaves along your neck and collarbone, he kisses down you body. Before long he's planting kisses on your mound and positioned right at your entrance.

"Now, before I give you a taste of what you're missing, I wan' a taste of you." Dabi licks upwards along your lips and you suck in a deep breath. Seeing you're reaction gets him going and he delves into your womanhood with enthusiasm. You're writhing in pleasure as he eyes your reactions while he works his magic. "Holy Hell, you taste so good.", he breathes into your hot core.

You already feel like he's bringing you to the edge again, and his words only turn you on more. You take strands of his black hair in your grip as you get closer to cumming. Dabi sucks gently on your clit and you let out your loudest moan yet. "I'm..I'm gonna cum!".

Dabi chuckles as he goes back to eating you out. "Go on, Babydoll. Cum in my mouth.", he commands and before you know it you tense up and your first orgasm washes over you. He watches you from down below as he softly licks you clean as you convulse, feeling you tighten around nothing inside you but his tongue.

"Now you should really get a taste.", he teases as he brings his mouth to yours. This time he kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste your essence that now coats his tongue. That's when you feel it. You feel Dabi run the tip of his cock along your folds, gathering up the wetness. The kiss only ends when he slowly pushes into you and you let out another loud moan.

"Fuck!", he grunts out once he's fully sheathed inside you. "You feel so fuckin' good." He starts off slow before building up to an almost brutal paste. It's only another few mintues before you're losing yourself to another orgasm.

"Oh my God, I'm...I'm gonna cum!", you hollar to which he tuts in response. "Don't go 'n bring that asshole into it.", he scolds in a playful tone through his own panting. "Besides, look at you. Gettin' off to a sleazy demon like me."

Your mind becomes hazy again. Almost like a spell over you. In your normal state of mind you would have reacted to those words. Right now they just made you cry out in pleasure as you tightened around him.

"Fuck, I'd imagine this is what fuckin' an angel would be like. Clampin' down on me like that. Such a naughty girl but bein' so nice on my cock." Dabi continues fucking you in the missionary position until you cum again. He lets you ride it out before slowing down a bit.

He barely comes out of you before he's flipping you over and pounding you into the mattress. Another two orgasms hit you consecutively before he lifts you up on your hands and knees. Dabi goes back to a faster pace, drilling his cock into you from behind.

In that position he pulls another three orgasms out of you.

While you're bent over, you manage to catch a glimpse of the two of you in your vanity mirror across the room. It was a rather hot display, but that's not what caught your attention. While he drove his cock into your tight hole he seems to become more feral the closer he seemed to get towards his own climax. While his iron grip on your hips never faultered, his eyes were screwed shut and his head thrown back in ecstasy.

It was then you realized his hair was white and short horns had appeared on his head. He must have grown them in his feral state. It was then Dabi hit a spot that had you seeing stars. You quickly found yourself on the precipice of yet another orgasm. You let out a loud, wanton moan and once again a haze filled your mind.

It clearly effected your rational thinking. Had you been in your right mind, his next words may have been concerning. "I'm gonna cum, Babydoll. Gah- I'm gonna fill you up and breed you good." Another wanton moan from you.

Your next orgasm hit you and you felt yourself tighten around him, while his cock got harder. "Clampin' down so good..". A moment later Dabi grit his teeth and grunted loudly as he filled you full of demon seed.

After finishing, Dabi pulls out and you almost long for his cock to fill you again. However he simply lowers your body onto the bed. Your palms and knees burn from digging into your mattress and holding your weight up as he claimed you. There's also a delicious ache between your legs. This time, when you glance back at him, he looks just the way he did when you first laid eyes on him.

You lay there catching your breath. Suddenly you ask, "Can I see you again?". The words come flying out of your mouth. Your actions leave you wondering why you were thinking like that at all, let alone how quickly they came before realizing you were even saying it. "I mean...Will I see you more?", you question in hopes of hiding some of your previous excitement.

Dabi chortles before admiring how cute you are. "Such an eager little mouse.", he comments with a sly smile. He cups your face and whispers, "Of course...", before softly pecking your puckered lips. After relishing the feel of your lips on his for a few moments he slowly pulls away.

"We have a deal, after all."

[macybeckham7]

4 moments with F1 drivers with reader

1. YN getting her first win of her F1 career

‘WOOO get in there Yn! Your first of many!’ your team principals voice appears in your ears. Your racing career just plays in front of you, from when you were on the Go Karting track, being the only girl and everyone not taking you seriously. How your father was your number one fan, how you would watch races together every Sunday, watching Schumacher, Vettel, Hamilton all win races and be in the record books. You climb out of the car, the car that many people doubted you even deserved, many people putting a time bomb over your head not thinking you will survive your rookie season. The crowd was deafening, you feeling so much love from the crowd who helped you get through the difficult conditions. You run to your team, getting many head taps and a ‘Get in there!’. You lift your visor up, two people suddenly appear, orange arms wrap around your middle and picks you up and jumps around. Once your feet were back on the floor Charles was there. Just your eyes were showing but he looked just happy as you were feeling, you both kept hitting each other, before hugging each other tightly. Max shaking your head, telling you that you have officially arrived and he is looking forward to the rest of the season. ‘The drinks are on you tonight’ Carlos winks.

2. It was Yn’s birthday, they get everyone together for a surprise birthday breakfast.

No one mentioned it being your birthday, everyone’s attention was on the packed weekend with a sprint weekend. It wasn’t until Lance appeared, and suggested that you go for coffee and some breakfast. You linked arms with him and walked around the quiet circuit, he opened the door to hospitality. You thought you heard someone shushing before you rounded the corner with a room full of people, Ted walked over as everyone called out ‘Happy Birthday!’. He placed a birthday hat on your head and you all sat around a table. Fernando appeared with a cake and everyone started singing, you got birthday bumps of Liam and Franco. You knowing that it was a big deal getting all the drivers in the same room, around the same table mid season and making them all leave their debates at the door and just there to celebrate you.

3. The older drivers bringing Yn under their wing

Yn always wanted to learn, whether it was small things how to handle the car around certain circuits or weather conditions. During red flags Yn was often seen stood next to Fernando, he would be explaining something, how to fight on the track with the likes of Max or Lewis. Lewis would always be happy to speak to her and give her some knowledge. She would smile and explain ‘why wouldn’t I want to learn from them? they have been around for a long time, they know what they are on about’. Which Fernando laughs when he gets asked about being called old. Many times throughout the seasons Brundle mentions ‘Wonder if they are questioning why they taught her that, that was a good overtake from her’. Many people said you had the best attributes from Alonso and Hamilton, and you were the best student for them.

4. Drivers being protective over Yn when fans were around

You had travelled with a few of the boys to Vegas, as you left the airport you were met with a few fans. There was a lot of blinded lights from the media taking photos of you. Lando and Carlos stop to look backwards to you. You were chatting to some fans, they knew you could handle yourself but they wanted to keep you close. Carlos wraps his arm around you as Lando grabs your hand and pulls you away from many fans and to the car. You arrived at the track, you were ambushed by fans you had a herd of them all following you. Lewis comes driving by on his scooter, you put your hand up to let him to see you, you manages to get them to give you room, you quickly jump on the back of his scooter. Hugging him as he gets you to safety as he jokes that he can’t let you die by a herd of wolves.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 09 of 13}

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

A Vision from Hell

 You couldn't drive for a while. When you got behind the wheel the next day, you couldn't do it. So, Billy, Tanya, and Liam took turns driving you through town until you got better. It took a few days, but they were patient with you.

 But the days passed by and you got yourself back together. But today, since you slept at Tanya's, she dropped you at the Hawkins Elementary School, where you tutored a kid. But now, after a small, routine meeting with the principal and some teachers, it's time to go. You're crossing the small parking lot when you see Max chatting with her friends.

 “I gotta go, I'm late.” She tells them, putting her skateboard on the ground and stepping on it. “Billy will be mad.”

 “No, he won't.” You speak up when you're close enough, making the whole party look at you. “I'm going there anyway. Wouldn't mind the company.”

 “Sure.” She shrugs, picking up the skate. “Guys, this is (Y/N). She's... Something of Billy's. Not quite sure yet.”

 “Hi, I'm Dustin.” One of them says, the one with curly hair, shaking your hand. “These other jerks are Lucas, Will. Mike and Eleven.”

 “Eleven? Like the number?”

 “El for short.” The girl nods with a small smile.

 “Alright, let's go.” Max tilts her head and after waving at the kids, you start following her.

 The day is warm, a little hot even, and you take off the light sweater you were wearing, tying it around your waist. You enjoy walking. Well, you enjoy walking here. The small town's slow pace is getting to you, and you like the simple streets and the many trees. Hawkins is a beautiful place, even though sometimes you feel like there isn't much to do.

 “So. You and Billy, huh?” Max asks after a while. “You two are together or what?”

 Blushing, you wonder if she knows Billy has been spending the nights with you. Almost every night, the only exception being when Neil is especially mad because you don't want him to explode at Billy. “We're... Seeing how things play out. Getting to know each other. Hanging out. Stuff like that.”

 “Stuff like that. AKA dating.” She teases, looking at you with a smile. “Whatever it is, it's good for him. He's less of an asshole ever since you came into the picture.”

 That's good to know. “Can I ask you something?” You continue when she nods. “You know I'm a little older than him, right?” Coming back to the same thought is tiring, you know it. But it's still something that hovers above your head. Not as much as before, but it's still there.

 “You're what? Nineteen?”

 “Twenty-three.”

 “You come out as being around his age. And even if you didn't I don't think that's a big deal.”

 “I just don't want it to be weird.” Max is part of Billy's life, and you want to be accepted by her. If she's ok with it, part of you feels relieved.

 “Look, stupid people will find it weird. Stupid people like Neil. But they don't get a say in it.” You reach the High School parking lot, walking around the few people still going home. “Those who really matter, friends and family, those are the ones who will support you, as long as you're happy.”

 “You're very mature for your age.” You tell her with a smile. “Thanks, Maxine.”

 “Call me Max.” She lightly elbows you, throwing the board on the ground and skating the short distance to Billy's Camaro. “Hey, shitface.”

 “You're late. Again.” You hear him saying as you walk around the hood, still out of his sight.

 “I had to walk instead of skating.”

 “Why? This thing is brand new, it can't be broken.”

 “I made her walk.” You say, smiling when Billy turns around to look at you.

 “Then it's you I should be mad at.”

 “I'm not scared of you.” You whisper, heat spreading through your cheeks.

 “Would the two lovebirds give it a break and drive me home before doing whatever you're doing?” Max complains as she gets inside the car.

 Billy's eye roll makes you giggle as you make your way to the passenger seat.

 Keeping the windows open, you feel the wind messing with your hair.

 “Jerkface, why are you driving so slow?” Max asks after a while, on the edge of her seat, leaning forward and holding on to both your and Billy's seat. “Did you wreck your car again?”

 “I'm under the speed limit.” He explains.

 “So you obey the laws now?”

 “I was in an accident I was a kid.” Turning your face to look at her, you gesture at the scar above your lip. “Got this after surgery to fix my wrecked lip. I lost my grandma and little brother that day.”

 “Oh, sorry.” She says, a sad expression on her face. “Drive safely,” Max tells her brother, slapping his arm.

 You wait for him to lash out at her, and by the look on her face, you know she's waiting for it too. But it doesn't come. Billy just rolls his eyes, hanging his arm out the window.

 “God, it's so hot.” The redhead complains as Billy enters their street. “Won't this heat wave go away?”

 “Not so soon. They're planning on opening the pool.” Billy adds.

 “Pool?”

 “Hawkins Community Pool. I worked there last summer as a lifeguard so they gave me a call.” Billy answers as he stops the car and steps out. You do the same but stand by the open passenger door. “They usually open in the Summer they're considering it because of this heatwave.” He gestures at the house. “Come. Neil isn't home, I'll show you the place.”

 “Alright.” Pushing the door close after taking your bag, you follow them through the sidewalk.

 “(Y/N), you're a tutor, right?” Max asks and you nod. “Could you help me? They'll only assign me to someone if I fail.”

 “Sure, I can help you off the records. What do you need help with?”

 “English. I suck and my teacher is definitely evil.” You enter the house as she speaks, looking around.

 “It's not the subject I'm tutoring but I can give you a hand. Just tell me when you're free so we can find a gap in my schedule.” Your eyes fall on the bench press in the middle of the living room, and it screams Billy Hargrove.

 “I'm free right now.” She exclaims.

 “Maxine, don't even think about it,” Billy warns.

 “Look, you're dating a decent, nice girl who is smart. Let me enjoy the benefits.” The girl snaps back, gesturing at the hall. “I'll get my stuff.”

 “Sure.” Smiling, you put your bag on the couch, but it falls and opens, spreading some papers around. “Shit.” You mumble as you kneel to catch them.

 Billy does the same, handing you a small pile of papers at the top of a notebook. “House of the Next Century?” He asks, and you look at the blue sheet of paper on the top of the pile.

 “It's an exposition from the Architecture School.” Putting everything back inside the bag, you stand up. “Liam's sister takes that course so she's involved and invited us.”

 “Sounds interesting.”

 “We can go if you want. But you know what else is interesting? Having a freaking bench press in the middle of the living room.”

 “Oh, you noticed.”

 ���How could I miss it?” Walking over it, you check the weights. “Can you really lift those things? They're huge.” Holding the bar, you give a little push, but nothing moves.

 “I can make a show if you want.” Billy moves closer, but his eyes are on you.

 “You're so cocky, Billy.” Blushing, you look away, biting your lip.

 “When are you going to let me kiss you again?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

 You and Billy haven't kissed since that night, you're not sure why. “I don't know... On some special occasion, maybe.”

 “Special occasion, huh?” He says, a smirk taking over his lips. “I can work on that.”

 “You two can make out later, I need help,” Max speaks, making her way to the kitchen.

 “Duty calls.” Winking at Billy, you turn around and follow Maxine.

 The two of you get the kitchen table, and you have to read a couple of things to pick up what she needs help with. It's not that complicated, and you still remember some things from school, so it doesn't take much until you're explaining to her. Billy comes to the kitchen every once in a while, but as the night falls and after he makes the three of you a sandwich, he sticks around, listening.

 It gets to you that they're doing better. You don't think Billy hates his step-sister, they just annoy each other as all siblings do. And it even makes you laugh sometimes.

 “You could help me with History too,” Max says as she looks for chapter 7 of her book. “And Geography.”

 “I sure can.”

 “Maxine, stop stealing my girl's time.” Billy snaps, and you giggle.

 “I'm not your girl.” With both elbows on the take, a smirk comes to your lips.

 “Ouch!” The girl exclaims. “That must've hurt.”

 “Yet.” You decide to add soon after.

 “On your face, shitbird,” Billy answers, and you can't help but laugh.

 “The two of you are crazy.” You mumble in between laughs. “I really–” You're cut off not by the front door opening, and by the way Billy stands up abruptly, and Max's eyes go wide, you know who it is.

 “I told Anne we'd be joining them on Saturday.” A woman's voice speaks, and you wonder what you should do. Both Billy and Max seem nervous.

 “Alright then. She better make something good or else it'll be a waste of my damn time.” A man says, not sounding very excited about the woman's plans.

 “We have to-” Billy starts, but he stops talking the moment a man comes into the kitchen.

 Neil's eyes find you immediately, lingering for quite a while, flying then to Billy and Max. “Who is this girl in my house?” He inquires in a rude tone.

 “This is (Y/N). She's one of the tutors from the new campus and she's helping me study for the tests.” Max answers, and the woman, Susan, comes to the kitchen as well.

 Unlike Neil, she kindly smiles and walks over to you. “Hello, (Y/N). I'm Susan, Maxine's mother. Thanks for helping her.”

 “No need to thank me. I'm just doing my job.” You shyly say, shaking Susan's hand.

 “Come on, Neil. Let's leave them to do their thing.” Susan turns to face Neil.

 “What about you? What are you doing here?” He asks Billy.

 You can feel anger irradiating from him, and you just want to grab his hand and take him away. The atmosphere is heavy, almost tangible. You can tell Neil is trying not to let it show, but it's obvious. You can feel it. “Got hungry and made myself a sandwich.”

 “Then be a gentleman once in your life and make some for your sister and her teacher.”

 “He already did.” You speak up, way too abruptly, trying not to let your anger show. Under the table, you clench your fists.

 Neil nods exchanging a glance with his son. “Get back to your room then.”

 You shouldn't say anything. You should let it go and talk to Billy after. But you can't. “He's helping us.”

 “He is?”

 “Yes.” Max bursts out, looking at Neil. “He was making questions.”

 Neil doesn't believe it, but after glancing at Susan, he nods. “Alright then.”

 “She was leaving anyway,” Billy says.

 “(Y/N) could stay for dinner, right, honey?” Susan asks Niel with a smile. “To thank her for helping Max.”

 “That would be lovely, but I have somewhere to be.” With a forced smile, you stand up.

 “Me too. I can give her a ride home.”

 “Sure. Thanks, Billy.” Nodding, you walk around the table. “Max, let me know when you're free so we can continue, alright?”

 “Alright, (Y/N). Thank you.”

 “Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove.” You mutter, heading for the front door and stopping only to take your bag.

 Billy takes a minute to reach you on the sidewalk, and you wonder what Neil just told him. In silence, you both get into the car and you only relax when he drives away.

 “I'm sorry about that.” Billy apologies, eyes on the road. “I thought they'd be out until later.”

 “It wasn't your fault.” Reaching out your arm, you touch his shoulder. “I had a nice time with you and Maxine.”

 “Me too, (Y/N)...”

 There's pain in his voice, and it breaks your heart. “What's wrong?”

 “I don't want you near Neil. I don't want him looking at you as if-” He stops speaking, running a hand through his hair. “Neil has a taste for young girls. He cheats on Susan on a regular basis and I can't have him thinking about you that way.”

 You feel weird, remembering how he stared at you. “I'm sorry. But it doesn't matter now. Let's go home and order a pizza.” You only understand what you said when the words already left your mouth. And when you look at Billy, you see a smile he's trying to hide. So you can't take it back. You'll just let it be if it makes him happy. “I want pepperoni.”

 “Pepperoni it'll be then.”

 “Oh, and I have a request, Hawkins Community Pool lifeguard. Who do I have to pay to have that pool open? I wanna enjoy a free sample of Summer.”

 “I'll see what I can do for you, Princess.” He looks at you with a smile, the one that belongs to you alone.

•••

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

[silly-moth-123]

I just had. a really weird day. Idk how to feel honestly

Vent-ish post below the cut (very long)

Ok so. A few weeks ago, I was having a kinda bad day, and I went into the bathroom (specifically the fourth floor girls' bathroom at my school) and there was something written on the wall and I almost didn't notice it, but I looked closer and it said "TRANS RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS" and it made my day so much less awful.

The next day, I went back to the same bathroom to see that a student had scratched out the words. Literally scratched paint off the wall just to get rid of this one message. But right next to where it used to be, someone else had written the same thing. It was in different handwriting, which was especially heartwarming to see.

This continued for a while. Eventually, I grabbed a purple sharpie and started contributing.

This purple sharpie is so symbolic to me. I stood up for what's right, I let my voice be heard. And I always wrote in purple sharpie.

It got to the point where I was writing it in really big letters, covering the whole stall. It made me happy, to be able to do this. It made me feel empowered, which isn't a feeling I get to have often. I usually feel like nobody hears my voice, but this let me share an important message.

So, with that context out of the way.

Today was just kinda crappy in general. I think I failed my math test this morning, and then I had an assembly for the first half of lunch and didn't have much time to eat, and then the second half of the day just dragged on forever and I just felt kinda miserable.

But then, during the last period, my dad (who is also the band teacher) showed up in my science classroom and asked to speak to me.

So we went into the hallway and I learned that the school was pretty mad about the wall-writing. Which is WEIRD, because the third floor bathroom has lots of writing in it and nobody has ever done anything about it. But they had footage of who was going in and out of the bathroom and so they knew it was me.

I REALLY hate the idea of being in trouble. It makes me really panicky and scared and so I felt really bad. But I mean. I had two choices. Either wait for tomorrow and they'll call me to the office and talk to me, or just do it now and get it over with. So, I chose the second option.

So I talked to the vice principal. He was very insistent that he had no idea about any writing on the third floor or any other bathroom, and that this erasure of the message "did not reflect the school's stance." Also he really pissed me off because he kept calling the message "political," and like. my existence is not political. please shut up. Also got pissed at him for saying stuff like "I can see you're quite passionate about this subject, and that's fine, but next time try talking to your counselor. You're a good kid and I don't want you going down this path." Like. Are you implying that this one small thing will lead me down a path of crime??? Also need I remind you. I WAS NOT THE ONE WHO STARTED IT. And no, I DON'T know who did, WHY WOULD I???

Anyways. He gave me a detention. He insisted "oh this is policy, this is still technically vandalism, I have to write you up, but this doesn't change my opinion of you as a very good student, blablablablabla" SHUT UP. You still gave me a central detention and no amount of excuses will change that.

But like. This is my first ever time getting a detention. I've always been the good kid. Always a rule follower. To extremes. Not once in my life have I thought I'd get a detention. And whenever I thought about it, I imagined it would be a misinterpretation on the teacher's behalf and they'd give me detention even though I did nothing and I couldn't explain my way out of it. And that thought TERRIFIED me for some reason.

Anyways. I waited out the rest of the period in my dad's office. One other student, who I'd probably consider my friend, was also there, so we talked a bit. My dad was in there too, and actually one small positive thing was when my probably-friend started to say something like "she didn't do anything wrong" but she stopped herself and asked for my pronouns (she knows they're fluid) (currently they/it, maybe they/it/he) and then corrected herself. Not that hearing me explicitly state my pronouns stopped my dad from misgendering me a bunch after that, but it was at least nice for someone to be so respectful for once.

So then I went to detention. It went about as well as you'd expect. I just kinda sat there and read House of Leaves the whole time. But like, when I walked into the room, the other kids in there were giving me funny looks, and like, I don't blame them. It's really out of character for me to get detention.

After that I went back to my dad's classroom for him to drive me home. My yearbook teacher was in there (she's also involved with the band) and she had heard what happened and told me that I'm (these are her exact words) "a badass," which was nice I guess. Idk. I know she said it to make me feel a bit better. Implying I was cool and stuff. Idk

And then I went home, finally. And now I'm here typing this insanely long post and I really have no idea how to feel about any of this. On the one hand, I feel like everything about my moral compass has just collapsed and my innocence has been lost to this detention. Which I know is obviously weird and untrue. But like. It feels bad. And then also, even though the vice principal insisted it wasn't erased for any transphobic reason, it still feels like that. Even if they weren't actively aware of it, there's probably some underlying transphobia. The other writing has been there for literally two whole years by now, maybe more, and I have a really hard time believing they didn't know. Sure, maybe this particular instance of writing in the bathroom "escalated" to the point of covering entire stalls. But like. FOR GOOD REASON?? IMO AT LEAST. And like. People are always writing in bathrooms!! It's normal!!!! Are they seriously going to punish me for this. I really feel like it was super unfair and I didn't deserve it but obviously I'm not gonna argue against them because I'M THE GOOD KID, that's STILL who I am, this won't stop that. But like. Agh. It's weird, idk. Still trying to figure out what I'm gonna tell my friends tomorrow. Because I AM gonna tell them, I would feel weird just pretending it never happened. But just. Agh.

Idk. Feeling kinda conflicted and overwhelmed and really all I wanna do is go to sleep. At the very least I'm wearing my green sweater again. So at least I'm comfy and not dysphoric about my body right now.

Yeah, so long story short today was weird. Idk. Uhhm how do I conclude this post

I feel like there's more to say, but idk, that's sorta the whole story I think.

Idk what I'm gonna do with the purple sharpie now. Bc like. I'm not gonna use it again. But I don't wanna just forget about it. Maybe I'll put it somewhere special in my room or something. Idk. That sharpie means a lot to me....

Ok I'm gonna stop typing now. I need a break from all this. I'm probably just gonna scroll Tumblr or something for a while. Maybe make a bracelet or something if I have the energy. We'll see. For now I'm just gonna. try to relax a bit

[lightleckrereins]

Six the musical crowns guide

This is a long overdue post that was requested again recently so here is the crown breakdown. While I tried to include everything there are probably some things I missed and some that appeared only tmporarily so I ended up omiting them. Also whenever I mention spike numbers it is very likely that I am off in some of them as it is hard to get photos of some where the full crown is visible and clear enough to count. And whoever is in the photo is not necessarily the first to wear a style, it is the best picture I have of it at the moment.

Aragon: It would seem that there are only two versions of this crown (original single band and new double one) but it actually has a few very distinct styles.

The very first one was a double tiered halo looking crown that never made it past very earyl first UK tour press.

1: After that and until the redesign Aragon wore a single headband shaped crown that went down to right above the ear with eight long gold spikes evenly distributed. It was commonly styled with hair strands weaved between the lower spikes.

2-3: The first redesign appeared only on 2020 Broadway previews and features two bands connected at the ends that lay on top of the head and goes slightly down (doesnt reach the ears). This crown had ten short gold spikes in the front band with the final one on the union of the bands and six long gold spikes alternated with five short on the back. The shape and number of spikes has changed a lot since but in general the shorter spikes in front and long and short alternated on the back format remains. The current US crowns have the same format as the original Broadway one but with 13 short spikes on the front band and eight long and seven short spikes on the back. Cruises started with a different style but have now switched to this one.

4-5: There are two versions of the crown in use in the UK. The most common one is the same format as the US crowns with short spikes in the front (16) and alternating size in the back but changes the short spikes on the back band to medium sized ones in the center and small on the sides (9 total and 8 long). The second version has the same format but is narrower (12 small in the front, 6 long and 7 medium/short in the back). This version seems to be used by queens with hairstyles that pull the hair back higher so the gap for the crown is narrower.

6-7: The original cruise crowns have the same format as the original Broadway one but change all the small spikes for medium sized ones. This crowns were worn backwards (long spikes in front) for Breakaway 2.0 and this appears sometimes in other productions. I am pretty sure this style was originated for Bliss 2.0 which had an early version of the costume redesign and made in advance for the cancelled original Breakaway 2.0. Crowns were worn for a few cruises since reopening but now seem to be retired in favor of the usual US style.

8-9: Since the Aragon crowns are gold to match the costume, the alternate crowns are silver. There are three alternate crown versions mirroring principal styles. The original headband one worn in the UK until lockdown, in the pre broadway US tour and in Australia for the whole run. This style of crown was sometimes worn by alternates for Cleves or Parr. Currently the UK productions are the only ones to use the alternate costumes and have both wider and narrower Aragon crowns in silver.

Boleyn: This crown has had the least variations across time. It consists of two circular bands worn around the spacebuns with spikes on the sides. Sizing and spike number vary but in general it is 10 spikes for UK crowns and 8 for US; AUS had 10 and cruises follow the style of the costume maker they have at the moment. The only notable difference was Hazel Karooma-Brooker who wore two flat bands on the sides of an updoo in a style that was later made the standard for Cleves.

Seymour: This one is simmilar to Aragon in that there are only a few base styles that have many distinct variations.

There are photos of Natalie May Paris wearing a few different crowns early on but none of those seem to have made it past early first UK tour press

1: the original Seymour crown was a small white band that laid on top of the head with six small spikes.

2-3: the second version was a long band shaped like a headband with 11 short spikes. There were both black and white band versions of this one; in general it was black for dark haired actors and alternates and white for light haired actors. Sometimes it was styled with hair covering the ends so the spikes showed between strands.

4-5: There have been two versions of the Seymour crown. The first is a double white band that lays on top of the head with five short spikes on each band and two more on the edge where the bands meet. When the Boleyn tour opened the crown was updated. It is the same format but now the three middle spikes on the back band are taller than the rest.

6: The UK crown has the same shape as the US crown but in black; and has seven medium sized spikes on each band and none on the union. A white crown was made for the 2023 UKT cast change presumably to match Erin Caldwell's blonde hair but she ended up wearing a black one.

Cleves: Just like there are a million Cleves hairstyles there are a million Cleves crowns.

The very first version of this crown looked like a hat with spikes around the brim but was cut in early tour press.

1: The first crown to appear onstagewas a headband in the same shape and size as Seymour, but with spikes starting slightly higher on the sides. It had three short spikes on each side and in the middle three long with two more short in between. This crown was the main style until shortly before lockdown when the mohawk style started to be introduced.

2: Vicki Manser wore one of her Boleyn cuffs for multiple queens including Cleves. This style was worn by some alternate Cleves early on with ponytails and side braid styles.

3: Brittney Mack wore a few different crowns, the first being a single cuff simmilar to the Howard crowns but with more spikes.

4-5: The first version of the side crowns was two single bands with eight short spikes on each. This was worn in the pre broadway tour, the UKT between 2019 and 2022 and by Jessica Niles in Breakaway 1.0. The later versions of this crown started shifting from straight bands to a slight curve.

6: Kiana Danielle got a slight variation of the previous one with alternating short and medium spikes

7-9: At reopening West End introduced a few different styles. The first was a headband with 15 spikes alternating between short and medium only worn by Lexi McIntosh. Second was the same but alternating between medium and long, this was worn by Zara Macintosh and Cherelle Jay. Third was simmilar to the Aragon crowns with two bands; 12 short spikes on the front and five medium and six shorts alternating on the back. This series feels like an experimental era where the costume team was trying to figure out different crown styles for different hairstyles before settling on everyone having a take of the double crown.

10-11: The US crowns are made by two slightly curved bands connected only on the back, has nine short spikes on the lower band. The top band alternates six medium spikes in two slightly different lenghts and two short spikes on the back. In the Aragon tour the crowns are worn backwards with the union on the front.

12: The UK crowns are two curved bands joined in the back. They have ten long spikes on the top band and eight spikes in the bottom alternating between two medium sizes.

There have also been Seymour crowns (the full headband shaped ones), Howard crowns and Parr crowns worn for Cleves by alternates or in cruises.

Howard: the Howard crowns can be separated into two groups. Open band and closed cuff. But that doesn't mean there are not a million variations on shape and size.

1: The very first version of the crown was a round cuff with three tiers of six spikes. This was narrower than later ones as originally principal Howards wore only half their hair up in the ponytail.

2: the pre broadway tour crown was also round but shorter and wider than the UK one and had only two tiers of spikes.

3: Vicki Manser wore one of her single tier cuffs for multiple queens including Howard. This style was worn by some early alternate howards.

4-6: The crown was standarized in late 2019 to a shorter, wider cuff with the same amount of spikes. Depending on the specific crown the shape shifted between being round, oval and slightly triangular shapes. This version appeared on UK productions until lockdown, AUS for the entire run and early cruises.

7-8: At reopening a new shape was introduced. Consisting of an open band that covers only the front of the ponytail and is left open on the back. This version has become standard for all productions in different shapes and sizes. The current UK crown is a wide band. It has four spikes on the top and bottom tiers and three in the middle. Since the crowns are made to be stiff this change shape between a wide curve and a narrower C shape. Height and width vary I think depending on the size of the ponytail.

9: the US crown is a narrow open band. It has four spikes on the top and bottom rows and three in the middle one. This are the narrowest crowns and the size allows the ponytail to cover the sides instead of staying in the back like with UK crowns.

Parr: this one looks like a million variations but is more of a million different ways to wear a few versions.

1: The original crown was a wide band shaped simmilarly to a fabric headband with three rowns of 10 spikes going around it. This was worn by the original WE cast, Athena Collins in the UKT Hana Stewart inWE, and Nicole Lambert in the pre Broadway tour.

2: For the pre broadway tour a headband simmilar to the Seymour crown with a wider band was introduced. This was worn by Ana Uzele before switching to the side crown, Bliss 1.0, Elizabeth Walker on Breakaway 1.0, the UKT alternates until lockdown, and the AUS alternates for the entire run.

3: For Breakaway 1.0 Amelia Walker wore a double headband.

4-5: For the AUS opening a new crown was introduced made of two bands on each side (simmilar to the Cleves crowns) with six spikes on each band worn on the back of the head and weaved through the hairstyle. This version with longer bands and more spikes was worn by Courtney Mack on Broadway and (I think) Megan Leung and Sophie-Rose Middleton in Bliss 2.0. A variation of this crown with spikes alternating between short and medium on the top bands is still worn in the UK by all Parrs with straight hair and In South Korea.

6: The first version of the side crown was introduced in late 2019. It is a single band with nine long spikes that goes from the side of the ponytail on the right side of the head beside the ponytail and reaching the center in the back. This was worn by Anna Uzele in the final stops of the pre Broadway tour, Danielle Steers until lockdown and Athena Collins for a public performance before the postponed UKT reopening.

7: At reopening WE and UKT introduced a new version of the side crown. Consisting of two bands connected in the backsimmilar to the Cleves crowns. With 11 short spikes on the bottom one and 12 spikes alternating between short and medium on the top one. This was worn by Danielle Steers and Athena Collins.

8: For the Broadway reopening a variation of the previous crown was introduced in the same shape and number of spikes only switching the spikes on the top band to three long alternating with three medium in the front and six slightly smallermedium on the back. This crown has become the standard version and is the only to be pretty much identical in both the US and UK.

9: Keirsten Hodgens wore a variation of the double crown specifically made to be worn on the left side to accomodate her locs naturally falling to the right.

10: In the Aragon tour both Gabriela Carrillo and Erin Palmer Ramirez wear the crown backwards with the bands connecting in the front.

11: Again in the Aragon tour Kelsee Kimmel wears another unique version. The top band has two short spikes in the front and back and then in the middle there are five spikes that go from medium to tall and back again.

12: For her first cruise run (Breakaway 2.0) Ellie Sharpe wore yet another unique crown. This seems to be a take on the double crown. The two bands are connected at the front and have medium spikes on the bottom band and alternating medium and long on the top one. I think this is another case of NCS changing all the short spikes for longer ones like they did with the Aragon crown and might have been intended to wear further back or it is two crowns worn as one. But no way to confirm this as there are only three photos of Ellie wearing it, none show the crown in full and she wore a standard side crown for her second run.

[okasuka]

The soft buzz of chatter filled Gotham Academy’s halls as the morning sun filtered through the large windows. Damian Wayne stood by the principal’s office, hands tucked into the pockets of his neatly pressed blazer. His expression was a practiced mask of disinterest, though he couldn’t help but inwardly sneer at the whispers and stares following him.

“Wayne heir, huh?”

“Wonder if he’s as weird as the rest of his family.”

“Did you hear about what happened to his brother last year?”

The prying eyes were nothing new, but irritating all the same.

“Mr. Wayne,” Principal Collins called, her tight smile barely masking her unease. “We’ve assigned you a student buddy to help you adjust. They’ll be arriving shortly.”

Damian arched a brow. A ‘buddy’? Tt. What a juvenile concept.

Just then, the door slammed open, and in walked Y/N. Her short black hair framed her sharp features as she slouched into the room, earbuds blasting a muffled beat. A scarred hand pulled one out.

“Yeah?” she said lazily, leaning against the doorframe.

Principal Collins straightened. “Ah, Y/N. Thank you for joining us on time today. This is Damian Wayne, our newest transfer. You’ll be showing him around.”

Damian’s eyes flicked over her. She wasn’t like the polished, pristine students he’d passed in the halls. Her uniform was slightly wrinkled, tie loose, and the scabs on her knuckles spoke of someone who’d rather fight than talk.

Y/N barely looked at him. “Great. Hi, new kid. Let’s go.”

“Miss L/N,” the principal said sternly, “remember, this is your chance to prove yourself. I expect you to take this seriously.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and gestured for Damian to follow. “Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

The walk through the academy was painfully silent—at least, between the two of them. Other students whispered as they passed, their eyes darting to Y/N before quickly looking away.

“Is that her?”

“She’s the one who—”

“Don’t look at her! She might punch you.”

Damian’s curiosity piqued. “You seem to have a reputation,” he noted.

Y/N glanced at him, unimpressed. “So do you. Guess that makes us even.”

“Hm.” Damian smirked faintly. “I doubt we’re quite the same.”

Y/N gave him a sideways look, clearly unimpressed by his haughty demeanor. “Whatever, rich boy. Just keep up.”

Over the next few days, Damian began to notice little things about Y/N. How she would always have her earbuds in, tuning out the world. How her scarred hands flexed when she was annoyed or bored. How her intimidating presence didn’t seem to phase him—though it clearly unsettled everyone else.

For her part, Y/N was surprised to find Damian less irritating than she’d expected. Sure, he was arrogant, but he didn’t try to force small talk. He was fine with silence, which she appreciated.

One afternoon, she found him by the school’s outdoor gym, watching as she wrapped her hands in preparation for a boxing session.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“You’re fascinating,” he replied evenly, leaning against the wall.

Y/N snorted. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“It’s an observation.”

She finally glanced at him, smirking. “Well, I guess you’re not the worst company.”

As weeks passed, the tension between them softened into something else. Y/N started looking forward to showing Damian around, even if she pretended not to care. Damian found himself admiring her strength—not just physically, but the way she carried herself despite the whispers and stares.

One day, after class, he caught up to her, his tone more hesitant than usual.

“Y/N,” he began. “Would you consider—” He paused, clearly unpracticed in vulnerability. “—perhaps sparring with me sometime?”

Y/N raised a brow, a grin tugging at her lips. “You sure you can keep up, Wayne?”

He smirked. “We’ll see.”

It was during one of these sparring sessions that something shifted. Y/N landed a hit, sending Damian stumbling back slightly, and she laughed—a rare, genuine sound that made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

“You’re holding back,” she teased.

“Perhaps I’m distracted,” he shot back, stepping closer.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. “By what?”

“By you,” he said simply.

For once, Y/N had no snarky comeback. Her pulse quickened, and she looked away, muttering, “You’re such a weirdo.”

Damian chuckled softly, the sound warm and unguarded. “Perhaps.”

From that day on, neither of them could deny the growing connection between them. Lunch hour at Gotham Academy was as lively as ever, with students chatting in clusters or scrolling through their phones. Y/N sat alone at her usual spot by the far window, earbuds in, a faint beat of music spilling out. She didn’t mind the solitude—it was better this way.

Damian, seated a few tables away, subtly observed her while pretending to read a book. He wasn’t used to being so curious about someone, but Y/N wasn’t like anyone he’d met before.

The tranquility shattered when a loud voice cut through the cafeteria.

“Hey, scar-hands!”

Y/N didn’t react, though Damian saw her jaw tighten. A tall boy from the school’s rugby team sauntered over, flanked by two friends.

“What’s with all the scars?” the boy jeered, smirking. “What, couldn’t hack it at whatever shady street gym you came from?”

Damian closed his book, already on edge.

“Walk away,” Y/N said, her voice calm but warning.

“Oh, scary,” the boy mocked. “What are you gonna do? Punch me? Go ahead—I could use a laugh.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, he made the mistake of reaching for her hand. “What, too tough to talk to us normal people?”

Her reaction was immediate. In a fluid motion, she twisted his wrist and shoved him back. The boy stumbled, face reddening as his friends snickered.

“You little—”

He lunged, but Y/N was faster. She ducked his clumsy swing and landed a sharp jab to his stomach. The boy doubled over, gasping, as a teacher rushed in to break it up.

“L/N! What do you think you’re doing?”

Y/N didn’t answer, calmly picking up her bag. “He started it,” she muttered, walking out of the cafeteria as if nothing had happened.

Damian watched the whole thing with a mix of admiration and concern.

After school, Damian waited by the entrance, knowing Y/N’s usual route home. Sure enough, she appeared, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, earbuds in.

“Y/N,” he called, falling into step beside her.

She didn’t respond, keeping her gaze forward.

“I saw what happened,” he said.

“Good for you,” she replied flatly.

“Why didn’t you tell the teacher what he said?”

She shrugged. “Didn’t see the point.”

“Y/N.” Damian’s voice softened slightly, an edge of frustration creeping in. “You don’t have to act like nothing bothers you.”

She stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “What do you want, Damian? A heart-to-heart? Newsflash—I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“It’s not pity,” he insisted, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “I’m trying to understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.” Her tone was sharp, but her eyes flickered with something Damian couldn’t quite place—hurt, maybe? “People don’t like me. Fine. I don’t care. I can handle myself.”

“And yet, you’re constantly on guard,” Damian countered, stepping closer. “You push everyone away before they get the chance to see who you really are.”

Y/N clenched her fists, the scars on her knuckles standing out starkly. “You don’t know anything about me, Wayne.”

“Then let me,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

For a moment, Y/N’s tough exterior faltered. But then she scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re wasting your time.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Damian standing alone on the sidewalk.

But as he watched her retreating figure, he felt more determined than ever to break through her walls.

Y/N shoved open the door to her small apartment, the faint smell of grease and takeout hitting her as she stepped inside. Dropping her bag by the door, she kicked off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, fully intending to raid the fridge.

But before she could open it, her father’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Y/N!”

She froze, her hand on the fridge handle. Turning slowly, she saw him standing in the doorway to the living room, his work uniform rumpled and his face flushed with anger.

“I got another call from your school today,” he said, crossing his arms. “Another fight? What the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, her expression carefully blank. “He started it.”

“That doesn’t matter!” her dad barked, running a hand through his graying hair. “You think they care who started it? You’re the one who’s always in trouble. You think they’re gonna cut you any slack?”

“I didn’t ask for slack,” she shot back, her voice low but heated.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he snapped. “Every time you pull this crap, it makes things harder for both of us! I’m working double shifts to keep you in that damn school, and you’re out here throwing punches like it’s nothing!”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her scarred knuckles turning white. “I didn’t ask for this either! I didn’t ask to go to that school or deal with their crap!”

Her father’s face softened for a moment, but his tone remained firm. “You think I’m doing this for me? I’m trying to give you a chance, Y/N. A real chance. And you’re throwing it away.”

“I don’t care about their ‘chance,’” she muttered, looking away.

“Well, I do!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the counter. “You’re better than this, Y/N. You’ve got more fight in you than anyone I’ve ever seen—but you’ve gotta stop wasting it on stupid battles that don’t matter!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Y/N didn’t say anything, her jaw tight as she stared at the floor.

Her father sighed deeply, the anger in his voice giving way to exhaustion. “Look, I know life hasn’t been easy for you. For us. But if you keep going down this road… you’re gonna end up just like me. And I can’t watch that happen.”

That stung more than anything else he’d said. Y/N finally looked up, her eyes burning. “What’s so bad about being like you?”

For a moment, her father looked like he wanted to argue. But then he just shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “You deserve better. That’s all I’m saying.”

He walked away, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen, the echo of his words settling into her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Y/N spent the rest of the night in her room, sprawled on her bed with her earbuds in, trying to drown out her thoughts with music. But Damian’s words from earlier kept creeping in.

“You push everyone away before they get the chance to see who you really are.”

She scoffed to herself, pulling a pillow over her face. What the hell does he know anyway?

But deep down, she wondered if maybe he was right.

The pillow muffled Y/N’s frustrated groan as she rolled onto her side, staring at the cracked ceiling of her room. Her dad’s words replayed in her head, mingling with Damian’s infuriatingly calm voice.

“You push everyone away before they get the chance to see who you really are.”

“I’m trying to give you a chance, Y/N.”

Her fists clenched the blanket beneath her. Why did everyone think they had her all figured out? She didn’t need anyone’s pity, anyone’s help. She was doing just fine on her own.

A soft knock at the door broke her thoughts.

“Y/N,” her dad’s voice came through, quieter now. “You still awake?”

She sighed, pulling the pillow off her face. “Yeah.”

The door creaked open, and he stepped inside, looking more tired than angry now. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Look,” he began, his voice softer, “I know I come down on you hard sometimes. But it’s because I don’t want to see you go through the same stuff I did.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she muttered, sitting up on the bed. “You think I don’t get why you’re working all those shifts? I’m not stupid.”

“Then why do you keep doing this, kid?” he asked, his tone tinged with frustration but mostly worry. “Why do you keep picking fights?”

She stared at the floor, the words caught in her throat. For a moment, she thought about telling him. About how it wasn’t just the fight today. It was all of it—the whispers, the stares, the way people treated her like she didn’t belong. But admitting it felt too vulnerable, too raw.

“I don’t pick fights,” she said instead, her tone defensive. “They pick them with me.”

Her dad sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not saying you have to roll over and take it, but you can’t solve everything with your fists, Y/N. It’s gonna get you in trouble you can’t punch your way out of.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, well, it works for now.”

“For now,” he repeated, shaking his head. “But what about later? You’re smart, Y/N. You could do something with your life if you’d just stop letting every idiot with a big mouth get to you.”

She looked up at him, her jaw tightening. “It’s not about what they say. It’s about what they do. That guy grabbed me, Dad. I wasn’t just gonna stand there and let him.”

His expression shifted, the worry deepening. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “But he tried to.”

Her dad let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it, okay? I do. But you gotta start picking your battles, kid. Not every fight is worth it.”

Silence fell between them for a moment before he pushed off the doorframe.

“Dinner’s on the counter if you’re hungry,” he said, his tone gentler now. “Just… think about what I said, alright?”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t wait for one. The door clicked shut, leaving her alone again.

Y/N flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her dad’s words swirled in her mind, mixing with the echoes of that rugby player’s taunts and Damian’s frustratingly calm observations.

“You push everyone away before they get the chance to see who you really are.”

She yanked her earbuds off the nightstand and shoved them in, cranking the music as loud as it would go. She didn’t want to think anymore. Thinking made it worse.

For now, she just needed the noise.

Y/N lay sprawled on her bed, staring at the faint glow of her MP3 player’s screen. The music pulsed in her ears, a soothing barrier against the world outside. She was halfway through a song when her phone vibrated on the nightstand.

With a groan, she leaned over and grabbed it, expecting another message from the school app or maybe her dad checking in again. Instead, the screen lit up with an unknown number.

Unknown: Are you still angry about earlier?

Her brows furrowed as she read the message, and her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Y/N: Who is this?

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown: Damian Wayne.

Her stomach sank, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She sat up, staring at the phone like it had betrayed her.

Y/N: How the hell did you get my number?

Damian: I have my ways.

She rolled her eyes, typing back quickly.

Y/N: That’s not an answer, creep.

There was a pause before his next message.

Damian: If it’s any consolation, I asked the office for it. I didn’t hack your phone or anything.

She groaned, letting the phone fall onto her bed. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. Picking it back up, she fired off another text.

Y/N: What do you want, Wayne?

His reply came just as fast.

Damian: To know if you’re alright.

Her fingers hesitated over the screen, and she felt the faintest twinge of guilt. But then the irritation crept back in.

Y/N: Why do you care?

Damian: Because I do. You’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be, Y/N. I saw how you looked when you walked out today.

She stared at the words for a moment, her chest tightening. Annoyance flared again, masking the vulnerability creeping in.

Y/N: Stop analyzing me like I’m some kind of science experiment. I’m fine. Just leave it alone.

This time, there was a longer pause before his reply.

Damian: You can tell me to stop caring, but that doesn’t mean I will.

She groaned audibly, dropping the phone beside her. Pulling her MP3 player back into her lap, she scrolled through her playlist, trying to drown out the lingering tension. But even with the music blasting in her ears, her eyes kept flicking to her phone, the message glaring at her.

With a reluctant sigh, she grabbed the phone again and typed quickly.

Y/N: You’re stubborn, you know that?

Damian: I’ve been told.

She couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at her lips, though she quickly wiped it away.

Y/N: Fine. I’m fine. Happy now?

Damian: Not entirely. But I’ll let it go for now.

She shook her head, tossing the phone aside and leaning back against her pillow. The music shifted to a slower track, and she found herself staring at the ceiling, the faintest hint of a smile lingering as the tension in her chest eased just a little.

She hated to admit it, but maybe Damian wasn’t the worst company after all.

The next day at Gotham Academy, Y/N strolled into class with her usual air of indifference. Her headphones dangled around her neck, music faintly audible as she slid into her seat near the window.

Damian was already there, seated next to her as always. She caught him glancing her way, his expression unreadable as he tapped a pen against his notebook.

“Morning,” he said casually, his voice soft enough that no one else in the room could hear.

She didn’t look at him as she leaned back in her chair, propping her chin on her hand. “What do you want, Wayne?”

He smirked faintly. “I’m just being polite.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Sure.”

The teacher began droning about some group project, assigning partners with deliberate precision. When he called out their names together, Y/N groaned under her breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Is partnering with me that unbearable?”

“You tell me, detective,” she shot back, earning a soft chuckle from him.

After class, they found themselves in the library, their assigned project sprawled out on the table between them. Y/N had her headphones on, one ear uncovered as she lazily scrolled through an article on her tablet. Damian, meanwhile, meticulously jotted down notes, his sharp gaze flicking to her every so often.

“Do you ever stop listening to music?” he asked finally.

“Nope,” she said without looking up. “Helps me focus.”

“I’d think it’s more of a distraction.”

“Maybe for you, rich boy,” she quipped. “Not everyone can handle silence like a sociopath.”

Damian smirked. “Touché. What are you listening to?”

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Why?”

“Call it curiosity.”

Y/N hesitated before handing over one side of her headphones. “Here. But if you say something snarky, I’m taking it back.”

He took the offered earphone and slipped it in, his expression neutral as the music filtered through. The bass-heavy track was rough and raw, and for a moment, Damian simply nodded along.

“Interesting choice,” he said finally.

“Is that a compliment?” she asked, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

“An observation,” he replied, echoing her words from their first encounter.

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

She didn’t respond, but the smallest smile tugged at her lips as she returned to her tablet.

As they worked, Y/N found herself glancing at Damian more often than she’d like to admit. There was something about the way he carried himself—calm, confident, like he was always ten steps ahead of everyone else. It was both infuriating and intriguing.

“You’re staring,” Damian said without looking up from his notes.

“Am not,” she shot back immediately, her face heating.

He looked at her then, his expression smug. “You are.”

“Shut up, Wayne.”

But for once, there was no bite in her words, and Damian’s smirk softened into something warmer.

As they packed up to leave, he lingered by the library door, waiting for her.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked.

“Unfortunately,” she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her tone.

Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Try not to get into any fights on the way home, Y/N.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint laugh that escaped. “No promises.”

As they parted ways, she slipped her headphones back on, the music filling the silence once more. But this time, it didn’t feel quite as heavy.

That night, Y/N was back in her room, stretched out on her bed with her MP3 player humming in her ears. The day replayed in her mind more than she liked. Damian’s smug little smirks. His annoying ability to get under her skin without really trying. The way he just kept showing up like he cared.

She hated it. Or at least, she told herself she did.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking her thoughts. She groaned, grabbing it.

Damian: Have you started your part of the project yet?

She rolled her eyes and fired back a response.

Y/N: I’ll get to it.

A reply came almost instantly.

Damian: Procrastination isn’t an ideal strategy.

Y/N: And pestering me isn’t gonna make me work faster.

Damian: Fair enough. But if you’d rather work together again, I’m available.

She blinked at the message, her brows furrowing. Why was he so persistent?

Y/N: Do you ever just leave people alone?

Damian: Rarely.

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she tossed the phone beside her. Her music shifted to a softer track, and for the first time in a while, she let herself relax.

A few minutes passed before her phone buzzed again. This time, the message wasn’t about school.

Damian: What are you listening to tonight?

Her lips twitched into a small smirk.

Y/N: Wouldn’t you like to know.

Damian: I would. You’ve piqued my curiosity.

For some reason, she found herself answering.

Y/N: Some old rock. Why?

Damian: Just wondering. You seem to have good taste.

She stared at the screen, her smirk fading into something softer. He wasn’t teasing or prying—just genuinely interested. That was new.

Y/N: Thanks, I guess. What about you?

There was a pause before his reply.

Damian: I don’t listen to much music, but I’d take recommendations.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed quickly.

Y/N: Alright. I’ll send you a playlist. Just don’t complain if you don’t like it.

Damian: I won’t.

For the next hour, Y/N found herself combing through her MP3 player, curating a list of songs she thought he might like. It was a little strange, but she didn’t hate it. If anything, it was… kind of nice.

By the time she sent the playlist, the tension she usually carried had melted away.

Y/N: Here. Don’t get all judgmental.

Damian: I wouldn’t dream of it. Goodnight, Y/N.

She stared at the message for a moment before responding.

Y/N: Night, Wayne.

She set the phone aside and sank deeper into her pillows, the faintest smile lingering on her lips as the music played on. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Saturday came around, and Y/N found herself sitting across from Damian in a booth at a small burger joint not far from Gotham Academy. It wasn’t her usual hangout, but Damian had insisted on treating her to lunch as a “thank you” for the playlist she sent him. She wasn’t about to turn down free food, though she still wasn’t entirely sure why he was so intent on hanging out with her.

“This is what you wanted?” Damian asked, eyeing her burger, loaded with extra pickles and dripping sauce.

“Don’t judge,” Y/N shot back, taking a massive bite and chewing unapologetically.

“I’m not judging,” he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s just… excessive.”

“Says the guy who ordered a plain salad.” She rolled her eyes. “Live a little, Wayne.”

Before he could respond, the bell above the door jingled, and Y/N’s stomach sank as her dad walked in. He was in his usual work clothes, wiping grease off his hands with a rag. His eyes scanned the room before landing on her.

“Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath, sinking lower into her seat.

“Y/N!” her dad called, striding over to their booth with a wide grin. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she mumbled, glancing at Damian, who looked mildly amused.

Her dad’s eyes shifted to Damian, and his brows lifted. “Who’s this?”

“No one,” Y/N said quickly, glaring at Damian in warning.

“I’m Damian Wayne,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Y/N’s partner for a school project.”

Her dad’s face lit up. “Wayne, huh? Like the Wayne Enterprises guy?”

“Yes, that’s my father,” Damian replied, his tone polite but detached.

“Well, fancy that,” her dad said with a chuckle, patting Y/N on the shoulder. “My kid’s hanging out with Gotham’s elite now. Maybe you’ll finally pick up some manners.”

“Dad,” Y/N hissed, her cheeks burning. “Can you not?”

“I’m just saying, you could use a good influence,” he continued, grinning at Damian. “This one’s got a bit of a reputation for getting into trouble, you know?”

“Dad!”

“What? It’s true!” He gave her a playful shove before turning back to Damian. “Anyway, good luck keeping this one in line. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

With that, he waved them off and headed to the counter, leaving Y/N slumped in her seat, fuming.

“That was… unexpected,” Damian said, his tone carefully neutral.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Don’t start.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

She huffed, shoving the rest of her burger into a napkin and standing up. “I’m out of here.”

“Y/N—” Damian started, but she was already halfway to the door, headphones back over her ears.

Y/N’s feet carried her across town to a place she hadn’t been in weeks: an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Gotham. It was her favorite hideout, a quiet, forgotten corner of the city where she could clear her head.

She climbed through a broken window and settled onto an old crate, pulling her MP3 player from her pocket. As the music filled her ears, the tension from lunch began to melt away.

Her dad’s teasing, Damian’s insufferable calmness, the weight of feeling like she never quite fit—it all faded into the background. Here, surrounded by peeling paint and broken machinery, she could just be.

But her peace didn’t last long.

A shadow fell across the floor, and she glanced up to see Damian climbing through the window.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, yanking her headphones off.

“I figured you’d come here,” he said, dusting off his hands as he straightened.

“How?” she snapped. “You stalking me now?”

“You mentioned this place once,” he replied, his tone unbothered. “During our first project meeting. I remembered.”

She groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Why are you here, Wayne? Can’t a girl have five minutes of peace?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said simply, crossing his arms.

“Well, I am,” she said, glaring at him. “Now go away.”

He didn’t move, his piercing green eyes locked on hers. “You’re angry with your father.”

“No kidding.”

“But that’s not all, is it?”

She clenched her fists, the scars on her knuckles standing out against her tan skin. “What do you want from me, Damian? Why can’t you just let me be?”

“Because I don’t believe you actually want to be alone,” he said, his voice steady but soft.

His words hit harder than she expected, and she looked away, her jaw tightening.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she muttered.

“I’m starting to,” he said, stepping closer. “And I think you’re tired of pretending you don’t care.”

She didn’t respond, her fingers tightening around the edge of her MP3 player. For a moment, the only sound was the faint buzz of the music leaking from her headphones.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I see something in you,” he said, his tone sincere. “And I don’t think anyone else has bothered to.”

Her throat tightened, and she turned away, shoving her headphones back on. “Whatever,” she muttered, letting the music drown him out.

But Damian didn’t leave. He sat down on a nearby crate, his presence calm and steady, as if he was willing to wait as long as it took.

The streets of Gotham were quiet as Y/N made her way home under the dim glow of streetlights. She kept her hood up, hands shoved in her pockets, and music blasting in her ears as she walked the familiar route to her apartment.

It was late—way later than she’d intended to stay out—and she was hoping her dad was already asleep. The last thing she wanted was another lecture.

She crept into the building, the faint creak of the old staircase making her wince as she ascended to their floor. When she reached their apartment, she slid the key into the lock and eased the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible.

The living room was dark, and for a moment, relief washed over her. But just as she stepped inside, the light flipped on, and she froze.

Her dad was sitting in his armchair, arms crossed and a stern expression on his face.

“Seriously?” he said, his voice low but heavy with frustration. “Sneaking in now?”

Y/N groaned, pulling off her hood and tossing her MP3 player onto the couch. “I wasn’t sneaking.”

“Coming home at midnight without telling me where you are? Yeah, that’s sneaking.”

“I needed space,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she kicked off her shoes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he shot back, standing up. “I’ve been trying to understand, Y/N, but you keep shutting me out. You don’t talk to me. You come home with bruises and scars, you get into fights, and now you’re sneaking around? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I just needed to get out of here for a while!”

“To do what? Sit in some abandoned building and listen to music?” he said, his voice laced with exasperation.

Her eyes snapped to his, her chest tightening. “How do you even know about that?”

“Because I’m not an idiot, Y/N,” he said, softening just slightly. “I know you have your hiding spots. I know you’re angry, but you don’t have to shut me out like this.”

She clenched her fists, the scars on her knuckles catching the light. “I’m fine, Dad. I don’t need you hovering over me all the time.”

He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not fine. And it’s okay to admit that, you know? But I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat burning with unspoken words. She hated this—being vulnerable, feeling like she had to explain herself.

“I don’t need your help,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I need space.”

Her dad’s expression softened, but the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. “Space doesn’t mean running away from everything, Y/N. You can’t just shut the world out whenever it gets hard.”

She looked away, her jaw tight as she fought the lump in her throat. “I’m going to bed,” she muttered, brushing past him.

“Y/N,” he called after her, but she didn’t stop.

She shut her bedroom door behind her, leaning against it as she let out a shaky breath. The weight of the day pressed down on her, but she pushed it aside, grabbing her headphones and collapsing onto her bed.

As the music filled her ears, she closed her eyes and let herself disappear into the sound, wishing she could block out the world entirely—just for a little while.

The next morning, Y/N awoke to the sharp sound of her dad knocking on her bedroom door.

“Y/N, get up,” he called through the door. “We need to talk.”

She groaned, pulling her pillow over her head and trying to ignore the voice, but she knew that wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly, she rolled out of bed and dragged herself to the door, opening it just enough to peer out.

“What now?” she mumbled, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

Her dad stood there, arms folded across his chest, his expression unamused. “You’re grounded.”

Y/N blinked, stunned for a second. “What?”

“You heard me. No going out with friends, no late nights, no leaving this apartment until I say so. You’re grounded for the next week.”

“Are you serious?” she hissed. “I’m 19, you can’t just ground me like I’m a kid.”

“I can and I will,” he replied firmly. “You’re out of control, Y/N. I know you think you don’t need my help, but you’re pushing your limits. You’re not going to make things better by isolating yourself. This isn’t how we’re going to handle this.”

She stared at him, fighting the urge to yell, to lash out, but something inside her just felt… defeated.

“You’re punishing me for going out for a few hours?” she muttered, frustration building in her chest. “You’ve got no idea what I’m dealing with.”

Her dad’s expression softened, but he stood firm. “I know it’s tough, Y/N. I know you’re struggling, but this isn’t the answer. You have to stop running from everything. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection,” she snapped, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them.

Her dad flinched at her tone, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not going to fight you on this. I’m doing this because I care.”

Y/N felt the sting of those words more than she wanted to admit. Her throat tightened as she tried to push past the wave of guilt. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, you’re not. But you’re still my daughter, and I’m still your father. That means I’ll step in when I see you hurting yourself.”

She couldn’t argue with that, not without feeling like a jerk. So she just stared at the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Fine,” she muttered, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets. “I’m grounded. Happy now?”

“No,” he said softly. “I’m not happy. I just want you to stop pushing me away.”

She didn’t reply. She turned away, heading back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of frustration and restlessness. Y/N found herself staring out the window, unable to shake the feeling of being trapped. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to be stuck here—she just wanted space to breathe, a little room to figure things out. But her dad wasn’t giving her that, and neither was Damian, who had texted her a couple of times already, probably sensing something was off.

Damian: Everything okay?

She stared at the message, biting her lip as she sat on the edge of her bed. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it, but part of her, deep down, wanted someone to listen.

Y/N: I’m grounded.

A pause.

Damian: Grounded? For what?

Y/N: Being a screw-up. Apparently, I’m not allowed to leave the house for a while.

Damian: That’s ridiculous. You don’t deserve that.

Y/N felt her chest tighten as she read the message. The last thing she wanted was for Damian to get caught up in her mess, but somehow, his concern felt like a lifeline in a storm.

Y/N: It’s not his fault.

There was another pause, longer this time. Then, finally, a reply.

Damian: I get it, Y/N. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. If you need space or someone to talk to, I’m here. Always.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she stared at the screen for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

Y/N: Thanks, Wayne. I’ll be okay.

Damian: You don’t have to be okay all the time. Not with me.

She didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, she just put the phone down and leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes and letting the music drown out the silence. It was the only thing that kept her grounded these days.

And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t mind that Damian cared enough to reach out. Even if she didn’t fully admit it to herself.

The next few days dragged on for Y/N. She spent most of her time in her room, avoiding her dad’s attempts to talk and trying to make the most of her grounding. Damian’s messages kept coming, each one more persistent than the last, though Y/N didn’t know why he kept reaching out. She couldn’t figure him out—why did he care so much?

Damian: You haven’t replied in a while. Are you okay?

She stared at the message for a long moment, wondering if she should respond. She had to admit, there was something oddly comforting about his constant concern, even if she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Y/N: I’m fine.

A few hours later, another message came through.

Damian: Don’t lie to me. I know you’re not fine. Talk to me, please.

She bit her lip, feeling the familiar frustration rise in her chest. Why did he keep pushing? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone like everyone else?

Y/N: I said I’m fine. I just need some space. Stop messaging me.

Her phone sat quietly for a while, and she thought maybe that would be the end of it. But then another message buzzed through.

Damian: I won’t stop checking in on you. You’re not alone, Y/N.

That simple sentence struck a chord she wasn’t ready to face. She clenched her phone tightly, trying to keep her emotions in check.

Y/N: Why do you even care?

There was a long pause before his reply came in.

Damian: Because I do.

It was blunt, simple, and somehow it made her heart skip a beat. She tossed the phone onto her bed, not knowing what to think or feel.

A moment later, the familiar hum of music filled the silence in her room. The distractions, the noise—it was the only thing that kept her from drowning in her own thoughts. But even the music couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to Damian’s words.

He wasn’t giving up on her. And that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

The next few days were a blur of fever, chills, and exhaustion. Y/N barely left her bed, only getting up for water or to shuffle back to the bathroom. Her dad had left for a business trip the day before she started feeling sick, so she was left to fend for herself. And even though she preferred it that way, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of being alone when she was at her worst.

Damian had, predictably, not left her alone. His messages came in almost non-stop.

Damian: You still haven’t replied. You okay?

She could barely muster the energy to respond, but she did.

Y/N: I’m fine.

Then came another one.

Damian: You’re not fine, Y/N. I know you’re sick.

She groaned and rolled onto her side, tugging the blankets higher. She wanted to ignore him, to shut it all out, but somehow, his persistence made it harder.

Y/N: I’m fine. Just got a fever.

She didn’t think he’d leave it at that, but she hoped he would. Instead, the messages just kept coming.

Damian: I’ll bring you something to eat. You need to take care of yourself.

Y/N: I’m not hungry.

Damian: You need to eat.

She had no energy to argue anymore, so she just let it go and went back to sleep.

When she woke up a few hours later, she found herself staring at the doorbell ringing. She groaned. Of course, Damian would show up, of all people.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door, and before she could even respond, Damian’s voice echoed through the hallway.

“Y/N, open up. I brought you soup.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, struggling to sit up in bed. She wasn’t in the mood for any of this—especially not the constant hovering.

Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of bed, her body heavy with exhaustion, and stumbled to the door. When she opened it, Damian stood there holding a steaming bowl of soup, a determined look on his face.

“You really need to eat something,” he said gently, though there was an edge of authority in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, barely able to stand straight. “I don’t need your charity.”

Damian raised an eyebrow but didn’t push her. Instead, he stepped inside and set the soup down on the small table near the couch. “I’m not leaving until you eat. You’re sick, Y/N. You’re not going to get better on your own.”

She glared at him, her irritation bubbling up. “You’re so damn persistent,” she muttered.

He didn’t seem to be bothered by her attitude at all, just pulled the chair closer to her bed and waited.

“Damian, seriously, I’m not hungry.”

“I didn’t bring it for you to look at. It’s to help you get better,” he replied, a calm smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Y/N huffed and fell back into her bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I said no. Just go away already.”

Damian didn’t budge. Instead, he picked up the spoon, stirring the soup. “I don’t mind feeding you, Y/N.”

Her face flushed at his words, and she looked away, embarrassed by the simple act of him taking care of her. “I’m not some helpless baby, Damian. I don’t need you playing nurse.”

“I’m not playing anything,” he shot back, his voice soft but firm. “You’re sick, and I’m not leaving until you take care of yourself.”

Y/N clenched her fists, feeling her frustration rise. She wasn’t used to anyone caring this much. It felt suffocating, like she was being trapped in a way that made her uneasy.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. “Just leave me alone already.”

Damian remained unfazed, only taking a step closer, the bowl of soup in hand. “I’m not leaving, Y/N. You don’t have to like it, but I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

She sighed, closing her eyes in frustration. She wanted to shut him out, to send him away, but for some reason, she couldn’t.

“Please,” she muttered, looking at the soup with distaste. “I don’t need your pity.”

Damian didn’t respond. Instead, he carefully brought the spoon to her lips, holding it there patiently.

“You’re not getting away with this,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, still seething with irritation, but when she didn’t move, he gently nudged the spoon closer. Begrudgingly, she opened her mouth, accepting the soup, though it didn’t make the situation any less uncomfortable.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Damian said, as if the battle had already been won.

Y/N didn’t reply, her cheeks flushed with the embarrassment of it all. She looked away, not meeting his eyes as he fed her the rest of the soup, each bite feeling more like a challenge to her pride than a necessity.

When he was done, he set the bowl down and gave her a small, satisfied smile. “You’ll feel better now. You just need to rest.”

She gritted her teeth but couldn’t bring herself to yell at him. Instead, she muttered, “You’re impossible.”

Damian’s smile softened, and he stood up to leave. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

She didn’t respond, watching him walk out the door and close it quietly behind him.

Her heart pounded in her chest, still filled with the mess of emotions she couldn’t quite place. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but one thing was for certain—Damian wasn’t going anywhere.

Damian had left the soup bowl and a few tissues on the small table next to her bed, but instead of leaving like he’d intended, he lingered. His eyes followed her as she sat back against her pillows, clearly exhausted but too stubborn to admit how much the soup had helped.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his tone gentle but firm.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her eyes, but the exhaustion in her body was starting to overtake her. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“I’ve learned to be patient with you,” he replied with a small smirk, his gaze warm.

Y/N snorted, rolling over onto her side, facing away from him. She let out a long sigh, the discomfort in her chest not from the illness but from the strange, unspoken tension in the room. Damian’s presence was comforting, but it also made her heart race in ways she wasn’t used to. She closed her eyes, her mind swirling with the thoughts she kept pushing away. Her dad’s absence, her frustration with being stuck, and, somehow, Damian’s constant attention weighed heavily on her.

She heard Damian settle into the chair beside her bed, and the silence stretched on for a long while. She could feel the quiet buzz of his presence in the room, and soon enough, the rhythmic sound of his breathing made her own eyelids grow heavier. Her body, so drained from the fever, finally succumbed to the exhaustion.

Just as she began to drift off, her voice escaped before she could stop it.

“I admire you,” she whispered, her words slurred from the drowsiness. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she wasn’t sure why she’d said it, but it was like her body was betraying her thoughts. “You’re… strong and smart. And… I… I don’t know. You just—”

Damian froze, his brow furrowing as he watched her, but he didn’t interrupt. She hadn’t fully realized she was speaking aloud until it was too late, and when she tried to pull herself out of the conversation, her voice faltered.

Her eyes flickered open, still heavy with sleep, meeting his gaze for the briefest of moments before she quickly looked away. “I don’t know why I said that,” she muttered, her voice quiet, embarrassed. “Forget it.”

Damian’s expression softened, and for a moment, he didn’t seem like the stoic, sometimes prickly vigilante that he usually was. Instead, he looked… human, understanding.

“I won’t forget it,” he said softly, his voice lower than usual. “You don’t have to hide how you feel, Y/N.”

She felt a lump form in her throat, and it made her stomach churn. She didn’t want to be vulnerable—not to him, not to anyone—but the weight of her words, the unexpected honesty, hung in the air. She swallowed, her breath unsteady.

“I’m too tired for this,” she muttered, her eyes fluttering closed again, as the sleepiness claimed her once more. “But… just… don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Damian didn’t say anything immediately. He just stayed there in silence, watching her as she drifted into the deeper stages of sleep. His fingers tightened at his sides, though he made no move to leave. He wasn’t sure what to make of the confession, but one thing was for sure—he wasn’t about to let her push him away.

He stood up after a while, careful not to disturb her as she slept. He walked quietly toward the door, glancing back at her one last time before he slipped out.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as he shut the door behind him softly.

And as he left, Y/N, barely conscious, felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to shift in ways she wasn’t ready to admit—but for now, the only thing that mattered was the comforting weight of sleep.

The following week, Y/N’s fever had finally broken, but the tension that had built between her and Damian over the past few days hadn’t exactly disappeared. It was an unspoken understanding between them now, one that neither of them addressed directly but that hung in the air whenever they were close. Y/N found herself more aware of Damian’s presence—how he lingered just a little longer when they spoke, how his gaze softened when she didn’t expect it. It was like a game she couldn’t quite win, and it irritated her more than she cared to admit.

At school, things weren’t much better. Y/N had managed to keep her distance from the drama, but her reputation as the girl no one messed with hadn’t changed. She walked through the halls with her usual defiant swagger, and students parted like the sea to avoid her, casting wary glances her way.

It was during lunch when it happened. A guy from one of her classes—someone she didn’t recognize—started to taunt her from across the cafeteria. He had a smug grin plastered across his face, and Y/N could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline building inside her. She stood up from her seat, her body already in motion before her mind caught up.

“Hey, freak!” the guy called out, laughing as he stood up to meet her.

Damian, who had been sitting next to her, immediately noticed the shift in her demeanor. Her fists clenched at her sides, and her jaw tightened with the familiar anger that often came with these situations. But this time, before she could take another step, Damian stood in front of her, blocking her path.

“Don’t,” Damian said, his voice low but firm.

Y/N stopped, looking up at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Damian? Get out of the way.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he took a step closer to her, his eyes meeting hers with that unwavering intensity she’d come to expect from him. “It’s not worth it,” he said, his voice softening just slightly. “He’s not worth it.”

Y/N’s anger flared, but there was something about the way he was looking at her—calm, steady—that made her hesitate. Her hands shook slightly, the familiar fury inside her battling with the strange sense of protection Damian seemed to offer without even realizing it.

“You can’t just let him get away with this,” she muttered, looking past him at the guy who was still smirking from a distance.

Damian stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper, but somehow, it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. “You don’t need to prove anything to him. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

Y/N clenched her fists, the temptation to fight still bubbling beneath her skin. But something about the way Damian spoke, the way he cared in a way that no one else did, made her pause. She let out a sharp breath, her body relaxing as she took a step back.

“Fine,” she grumbled, though there was no real conviction in her voice. “But I’m not forgetting this.”

Damian didn’t smile or look satisfied. He simply watched her for a moment, then turned his gaze to the guy, who was now looking a little less confident.

“Go,” Damian said, his voice carrying a warning now. “And don’t come back.”

The guy, realizing that he wasn’t going to get a rise out of Y/N, huffed and walked off, muttering under his breath. Y/N felt a twinge of satisfaction, but it quickly faded as she turned to Damian.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice low, conflicted. “You know I can handle it on my own.”

“I know,” Damian said, his expression unreadable. “But you don’t always have to. You don’t always have to fight, Y/N. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Y/N felt a flicker of something unfamiliar in her chest—something she couldn’t quite place. She swallowed, trying to ignore the growing warmth of her cheeks. “I don’t need a hero,” she muttered, though it sounded weaker than she’d intended.

“I’m not a hero,” Damian replied quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear. “But I’ll always be here for you.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead, she just gave him a sharp look. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Damian smiled, just a little, the expression catching Y/N off guard. He was so much more than she gave him credit for, and she wasn’t sure whether that scared or comforted her.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. As the days continued, Y/N noticed that Damian seemed to make a point of staying close to her. He sat next to her in class, walked with her between periods, and, much to her annoyance, even texted her occasionally to check on her, even when she didn’t ask for it. At first, she was resistant to it, shutting him out with her sharp words and irritated silence. But slowly, without her even realizing it, she started to look forward to their conversations, to the quiet moments when it was just the two of them.

And even though she still kept her walls up, Damian was relentless. He wasn’t giving up. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.

By the end of the week, the subtle changes in their dynamic were hard to ignore. Y/N still pretended not to care, but when Damian wasn’t around, she found herself feeling restless, a little bit empty. She told herself it was just a phase, that it would pass. But deep down, she knew better.

She wasn’t sure where things were headed, but for the first time in a long while, she didn’t mind the uncertainty. The warmth in her chest, the fluttering in her stomach when Damian smiled at her—it was all new territory.

And she wasn’t sure whether she was ready to admit it yet, but she couldn’t deny that she was starting to look forward to whatever came next.

It was the weekend, and the day had been uncharacteristically calm. Y/N had spent most of it avoiding her usual distractions, her mind kept drifting back to Damian. She tried to shake it off, but there was a growing weight to their connection, one that she couldn’t ignore anymore.

Damian had messaged her in the afternoon, as usual, asking if she wanted to hang out. At first, she’d been hesitant, not sure if she wanted to be in his company after everything that had happened. But there was something about his persistence, his quiet way of staying by her side, that tugged at her heart in ways she wasn’t ready to face.

Damian: So, how about it? You, me, some peace and quiet?

Y/N had hesitated before replying.

Y/N: I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes. Be ready.

It wasn’t much of a response, but it was enough. When she arrived at his place, Damian was already waiting outside, his expression soft when he saw her.

“Where are we going this time?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face. She couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes—something between curiosity and warmth.

“You’ll see,” Y/N said, her voice a little more guarded than she intended. “Just trust me.”

They didn’t talk much during the ride. The air between them felt charged, though neither of them spoke of it directly. They were both aware of the undercurrent of something new, something unspoken, that had been growing between them for weeks now. Y/N’s mind kept wandering back to the way he looked at her, the little things he did—how he’d been there when she needed him, even when she didn’t ask.

When they reached their destination, a dilapidated, old building on the outskirts of the city, Damian looked at her curiously.

“This is… where we’re going?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

Y/N smirked, a little teasing. “I told you to trust me.”

She led him up the creaky steps and into the abandoned building, the setting sun casting a warm glow through the cracked windows. They found a spot on the roof, where the sky was painted in shades of orange and purple. The city stretched out below them, distant and peaceful.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds were the faint rustle of the wind and the distant hum of city life. Y/N pulled out her MP3 player, the same one she always carried with her, and let the music play softly through the headphones. She leaned back against the cold surface, her eyes closing for a moment.

Damian, sitting beside her, watched her carefully, his gaze lingering. He wanted to say something—anything—but for once, he didn’t have the words. He just… wanted to be here, with her.

When the song ended, the silence between them stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like something was shifting, something inevitable.

“You know,” Y/N began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Damian turned his head toward her, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Why me?”

Y/N shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual, but her chest tightened at the question. “I don’t know. I guess… I trust you.”

Damian didn’t say anything at first. He just let that settle between them, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that had formed without either of them really realizing it.

“Y/N…” Damian started, his voice soft but intense, “I don’t know what this is, but I can’t ignore it anymore. I don’t want to.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of uncertainty. But there was none. Only that steady look, that quiet confidence she had come to rely on.

“I’m not good at this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “and I’m not good at letting people in. But… I don’t know, Damian. Maybe you’ve earned it.”

Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile, and for a moment, it was as if everything else in the world had disappeared. Just the two of them, sitting there on the roof, watching the sunset, the warmth of the moment slowly replacing the tension between them.

“You don’t have to be good at it,” he said, his voice low, “I’ll teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, but there was a softness in her tone that hadn’t been there before. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” Damian replied, his smile widening.

The air between them shifted once more, this time with a quiet understanding. Y/N’s hand, resting next to her, brushed against his. For a moment, neither of them moved, but the spark was undeniable.

Without thinking, Y/N turned to face him fully, her hand hesitating for a moment before resting against his chest. Her eyes locked with his, and for the first time in weeks, she felt the walls she’d built inside her slowly crumbling.

Damian didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in slowly, his forehead resting against hers for a brief second before he closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss—a kiss that felt like the culmination of everything that had built up between them, a kiss full of unspoken words, of everything they hadn’t said yet.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, a little dazed by the intensity of it.

“You’re not as impossible as I thought,” Y/N said quietly, her voice teasing but sincere.

Damian chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “And you’re not as tough as you pretend to be,” he replied.

Y/N smirked, her heart fluttering in her chest, feeling the heat of the sunset and the warmth of Damian’s hand against her skin.

“Maybe,” she said, leaning in for another kiss, “maybe I’m starting to change my mind about a few things.”

Damian didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed her again, this time deeper, more sure of himself. And as they kissed under the fading light of the sunset, everything else—the world, the problems, the distance—seemed to melt away.

For once, it was just the two of them. And for the first time, Y/N didn’t mind the quiet certainty that things were changing.

[jtwritesstuff]

Fresh Off A Snow Day

Another monthly story! This one was a tie between the prompts of "Snow day" and "Back to school regression". ______________________________________________________________ James sighed as he walked into work that morning, fresh off a three day weekend caused by a snow day, and sure enough his room’s parapro was gonna be out for the day. He sat at his desk, turning his computer on and starting to pull up his now thrown off by a day lesson plans. He scrolled through them, getting his materials around when he noticed his email ping. He quickly clicked the tab, expecting the morning announcements, instead it was an email from the principal with the title “New student”. He groaned, he already had a class of 24, 25 was going to be a lot.

He opened the email and gave a small frown as he saw the name of the student “Aaron Sprung”. That was an issue he wasn’t expecting, the new kid having the same first name as his parapro, he’d have to bring that up to Aaron when he got back from being sick. James stood back up now, looking around his room to see where he could put another desk, frowning a bit as he’d just figured out what would be the perfect groups for these kids. He decides to move a desk from the back to a group he knows he can trust to be quiet when needed and nods a bit before checking the time and letting a small sigh out.

He made sure everything was set up before walking to his door and opening it, putting on his best “I’m not tired” smile as he heard the kids coming down the hall. A few were already lined up by the door as he opened it, likely either a co-workers kid or they ran down the hall the second the front doors were open. He gave them either a fist bump, a wave or a hug as they entered, the students themselves picking between them, and he kept a close eye out, seeing if there were any kiddos he didn’t recognize wandering the halls as if lost.

As he stood, greeting each kid as they walked by and into his room, though he wasn’t fully expecting what he saw next. He watched as a child that looked like he belonged right in James’ class walked up, though he could swear he knew this kid. He had a semi-curly mop of strawberry blonde hair, a pokemon hoodie on and matching joggers that looked brand new, along with some light up velcro shoes that also looked fairly new and had a backpack covered in dinosaurs.

Normally all of this could be chalked up to new school jitters and wanting new stuff to show off…there was just one issue though. This strawberry blonde kiddo making his way quietly down the hall was the spitting image of Aaron, his parapro that was out sick today. James couldn’t help but stare at the boy as he walked up and somewhat nervously looked up “Um…Mr. Kelling?” James blinked a bit and nodded “Y…Yeah, that’s me, you must be Aaron.”

The boy just nodded, avoiding eye contact as James did his best to put on a smile “Welcome to my class Aaron, your desk is going to be number 25, go ahead and put your bag on a free hook in the closet.” He nodded, walking in as James had to stand in the hall for a second, acting like he was checking for any other kids but in reality, his mind was racing. How was Aaron so small? What happened to him? This was like those stories he read online but…he was right here, and…unless Aaron has a secret child also named Aaron that he just found out about, this should be impossible. 

He made his way into the room again after getting his smile and focus back, looking as the kids grabbed their breakfasts and sat at their seats. He watched their newest classmate do the same, but less seeming like he was just following the herd and more like he was used to the routine. James could only frown quietly to himself, wondering how much of Aaron was in there, before getting the day started with morning announcements. 

James could only keep his eyes on Aaron as the boy worked, showing he was still fairly ahead of the curve, but struggling at points with things like math. James could only wonder how this all happened so…quickly, it’d only been three days, how does someone lose that much age in three days. He was working through it slowly and before long he noticed the time “Alright class! Time for recess, get dressed up as it’s pretty cold out.” He walked over to Aaron and gently tapped him “I’d like you to stay in bud, I wanna show you about a bit more.” 

Aaron looked nervous as the rest of the kids got ready and lined up before being led out by a recess aide. I gently shut the door behind them and then turned to Aaron, looking down at the small boy “So…what happened?” Aaron looked up at James, looking nervous but trying to put on his best confused face “Huh…? Whatcha…um…mean?” James sighed a bit, leaning on a desk and giving Aaron a look “Aaron, I know it’s you, it’s not hard to recognize those curls.”

Aaron looked taken aback for a second before looking at the floor quietly and shrugging  a bit.James sighed and just stared the boy down “Well…it’s not every day I see a previous co-worker shuffle in here and struggle with fractions…so what happened?” Aaron looked down and sighed a bit as I just waited “You…wouldn’t believe me.” I sat down now on one of the desks, looking at him seriously “Try me.”

Aaron looked up and sighed softly. “Well…I decided to try this…remote of sorts, I didn’t know it at first but it has the ability to like…reshape the world.” James sighed a bit, if the proof wasn’t standing in front of him and this was any other kid he’d be telling them to knock it off about now. “And so I just…wanted to try it and made myself younger, and…I just…I dunno, I don’t…really wanna go back…ya know?”

James looked at Aaron and nodded a bit “I mean…yeah, I honestly get that more than you’d think…” Aaron seemed to perk up a bit “You…you do?” James nodded again and sighed “I…I wish the same thing sometimes honestly.” Aaron blinked at that before quietly asking “Really…? You’re not just…saying that…?” James shook his head “For as long as I’ve been an adult…I’ve just wanted to be a kid again, take this stress and stuff away and just…relax again.” 

Aaron seemed to think quietly for a few moments before making his way quickly to where his bag was hung up. James watched as he dug through it for a second before pulling out an odd looking remote. It looked like a mix between a calculator and a universal remote, both from the early 2000s. He walked back over before looking up at James seriously “So…you wanna take that stress away?”

James blinked a bit, his heart rate picking up as he realized just what Aaron was suggesting “I…I mean yeah b…but I need this job too and…” Aaron shook his head a bit with a sigh, cutting James off “Because you gotta keep your house and whatnot…yeah yeah.” James just blinked a bit at the sudden annoyance from the little boy as Aaron continued “Look, I’m offering a free shot at what you want, if you’re a kid again you don’t have to worry about a job or bills or…anything! I mean other than what’s for lunch today.”

James nodded a bit, thinking quietly as Aaron seemed to already be prepping the remote. James looked at him “So…what would happen with my class?” Aaron just shrugged a bit “I mean…it alters reality too, someone would just…take your place in the new reality and boom, pretty much nothing happened, at least for the others.” James thought for a few seconds before suddenly frowning “Wait…if you changed reality for everyone…why do I remember you being older?” 

Aaron looked at him and shrugged, “I wanted to see how you’d react, hence why I have the remote, if you reacted bad, boom, I’m just another kid.” James just blinked a bit at that “damn…that cold huh…?” Aaron just shrugged “Hey, I’m glad it’s working out this way instead, so…how old do you wanna be? My age or…?” James thought for a second about it, wondering just how low he could go, thinking specifically about some of his more…infant themed stories he’d read as of late.

Aaron just stared at him for a bit and sighed “No please…take alllll the time ya need, not like the kids are gonna be back soon.” James blushed at that before sighing softly “How about...six…first grade or older kindergarten” Aaron hit a few buttons, nodding and smiling now “And if ya don’t like it, lemme know after school, okay?” James nodded, blushing a bit at the thought of being in school again as Aaron aimed the remote at him.

Aaron looked around it “It might feel a bit weird for a second, so.just hold onto something” James grabbed the desk but before he could respond he heard a click and felt a weird almost static feeling wash over him. It was like the feeling you have when an arm or leg falls asleep but all over and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes as it washed over his head. It was one of the worst feelings he could remember, like he was being put through a car wash without the car.

He stood there for…he didn’t even know how long at this point as this feeling washed over him, groaning softly as he felt it slowly starting to abate. He  started to open his eyes, seeing the floor first and just how close it was before slowly looking up at Aaron, who was now standing about a head taller than James. Aaron just smiled at him “Annnnd…done! Look atcha! Super cute.” James just swayed as he stood there, feeling like the room was spinning around him.

Aaron walked over, gently patting his back as he looked at James “I warned ya…it’s a rough one.” James just nodded slowly as Aaron rubbed his back and watched him “We..probably wanna get moving, because I think you’re…supposed to be in Mrs.K’s class.” James nodded a bit again as Aaron slowly led him out by the hand. As they walked he slowly felt better and better and began to take in the very similar looking halls all around him just…much bigger.

Aaron smiled down at the now much younger boy who was enraptured with his new status as a first grader “Pretty cool huh?” James just nodded more as they walked down the first grade hall and he saw all the art projects from the year hung up…including a spot with his name on it, though it was empty currently.

Aaron gently knocked on the door and Mrs.K answered, smiling down at the two of them “Welcome back James! Did Aaron give a good tour of the building for you?” James just nodded a bit, a faint memory of Aaron leading him around seemingly surfacing out of nowhere as Mrs.K looked at Aaron. “Thank you so much for helping him get his bearings hun, I know everything must be tough with him just getting to your guy’s house last night.

Aaron nodded and shrugged “It was no biggie, just doing what a big bro should.” He smiled as James looked up and he gave a wink down to the smaller boy. “Well…you should probably head back to class hun, I know your recess is almost over.” Aaron looked at the time and nodded “Alright, see ya after school James! I’ll grab ya so we can walk to dad’s car.” James just nodded again, smiling softly at Aaron before feeling his hand taken again by Mrs.K, being led into the classroom and  his first day of his new life.

[purposefully-lost]

Charlie Reimes stumbled into his death in the same way that he'd stumbled through most of his life. He'd sort of seen it coming, as far as Michael was aware, but he didn't exactly seem prepared for it. Few ever were. The young man, dressed in a version of the sweater he'd died in- if it'd been brand new, a soft blue-grey that had yet to fade or get warped by the wash- took a seat on the other side of the desk. He rested his elbows on his knees and fidgeted nervously, a school boy awaiting a lecture from the vice principal. Michael tilted his head at him and offered him a smile.

"Hi, Charles. Although, it says here that you normally go by Charlie, is that correct?"

Wary eyes the color of that brand new sweater glanced up at Michael, then down at the manilla folder on his desk. He gave him a small nod. "Uh, y- yeah. ..Uh, I- I was just wonderin'-"

"Let me stop you there," Michael said, doing his best to soften his voice and maintain the kindly exterior, though internally, he wanted to giggle. This man had spent his whole life anxious, impulsive, and reckless, and it'd followed him cleanly into death. Of the souls chosen for this particular neighborhood, he would be the easiest to torture. Michael pressed a hand to his own chest. "My name is Michael. And I am here to welcome you into your afterlife. You are dead, Charlie."

The man's brows furrowed. He sat up, a puppy-dog kind of misunderstanding seeping into his eyes. "Wha-"

"But there's no reason to worry! Because you, young man, made it into the good place. That's.." He pointed up towards the ceiling, then offered a grin. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Dead?" Charlie asked.

"I can tell you how it happened, if you like?" Michael dropped his grin and reached for the folder, not waiting for an answer before he flipped it open. He hummed and peered at it closely. "It says here that you... oh, isn't that sort of nasty? You were driving under the influence when you had a terrible car accident. Pronounced dead on the scene. Hm." Michael frowned in faux thought. "Usually, DUI's lose you a lot of points. It's kind of shocking that you still made it here. But, in fairness, you didn't hurt anyone else, and if you already had enough points before you did it..."

Charlie didn't even seem to have gotten curious about the points thing, yet. He'd pressed himself back into his seat, his hand over his mouth and his eyes growing wet. He looked like he was about to throw up. Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes and vaguely waved a hand. "Janet? Get our guest a bucket, please."

-----

The young man had remained mostly quiet as Michael guided him along on the neighborhood tour. All of the community centers were found in a neat little downtown plaza, surrounded for a few blocks by quaint restaurants or coffee shops or cat cafés. All run by the cast of disguised demons, putting on their brightest smiles and following their scripts to a T. There were only four other true human souls in town; a fascinating trio that Michael had plucked from the same small town in Appalachia, and the man that he was now walking Charlie to meet. He hadn't told him as much, yet. He still seemed a little too overwhelmed by the concept of being dead.

"Uh..."

Michael paused, glancing to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"Uh, I- I was... I was just thinkin', uh..." His face had grown to a warm red. Charlie reached up to twist a lock of hair between his fingers and give it a tug as he looked around at the space they moved through. "My- I- I had a.. I had a brother die, a few years ago. A- and I guess... maybe- maybe two, actually, we never found out what happened to.." He trailed off and frowned. "I- I guess I was just wonderin' if.. are they here?" He asked finally. He gave Michael a disgustingly hopeful look. "Can I see 'em?"

"Oh, Charlie... Christopher and Jacobi, you mean? Of course they're in the good place." Michael smiled, warm. They were, in fact, actually in the good place. Jacobi had been a good student and a smart kid, and he'd died too soon to screw it all up. Chris had been riding close to the line, a sometimes reckless 20-something who got into too many arguments with his mom, but he'd made it up for it in many ways. "They have neighborhoods of their own. Maybe after you've.. adjusted, for a while, I can show you how to pay them a visit."

"Oh," Charlie said softly. "Alright."

He was quiet again. Michael let him out of the town center and onto what, within only moments, appeared to slip into a more rural road. There was what appeared to be an older, but clean two story home, with a strong foundation and a neat, simple garden out front. It bore some resemblance to the place Charlie had grown up- that was by Michael's design. The man was so haunted by mistakes he'd made concerning family that he'd known it'd sweeten the deal. He watched the bittersweet mix of longing and comfort appear in Charlie's eyes as he led him up the steps.

"This is to be your home, here. You can always change it to your liking, but hopefully, we've found something you'll be comfortable with. That also brings me to our next order of business..."

He pushed open the front door. Inside, having already faced his own introduction, another young man waited with an air of anxious energy. He was fidgeting, his dark hair ruffled from the way he'd repeatedly run his hands through it, his eyes nervously watching the door. The moment he saw them, his face brightened into a grin.

"This," Michael said, glancing at Charlie, and he could already see the way the blood was rushing to his face, his eyes catching on the way Vi's nose crinkled when he smiled, "is your soul mate. His-"

He was cut off by the way Victory rushed forward, dragging Charlie into a tight, giddy hug. When he pulled away, it was only enough to search the face of the person he'd been told he was always meant to find. "Oh! My name is Victory," he quickly told him, still grinning. It was as if Michael had been entirely forgotten. "It's so lovely to meet you."

"..Charlie," Charlie replied, and then he was smiling too, small and nervous. It was easy to see that once he'd spoken with that southern drawl, Vi was instantly charmed. He tugged the other man back into the embrace and giggled softly.

"Hi, Charlie.."

It was so hopeful, so content, that Michael could've barfed. But this was exactly what he'd wanted. He left them to their devices, quietly slipping back out of the front door while Vi began to chatter, and grinned to himself. Based on all his research, he had a good guess as to how things would play out for them; it'd be a quick, explosive romance. But Charlie was stubborn and quiet, and Victory was loud and overbearing, and soon enough they'd start to drive each other crazy. All he had to do was wait.

[saphhicwitchbitch]

Imagine: if aziraphale had used the gun in the book.

Hi! I just copied my writing from a previous reblog so that i could have the scenario as mine on my blog.

The final encyclopaedia crashed down the stairs.

"What are you going to do now. You are surrounded. Your humans can no longer fight. Your dear, dear Crowley hasn't come back for his pet. You are alone. You are out of options. You are helpless angel". Shax smirked as the final word slithered out of her mouth. Her tone condescending and triumphant as she had seemingly won.

A smirk also glided onto Aziraphales face, "Actually, you are wrong"

Shax had not expected such confidence from her enemy. Sure, angels were known for their high and mighty cockiness but surely, surely they could recognize defeat?

What shax had not realized, firstly, is that Aziraphale had not once utilised any of his angelic powers or training. He had once been the protector of the eastern gate, and that job was not given to any lightweights, it was the same reason why he was supposed to lead a batallion if Armageddon hadn't been thwarted by him and Crowley. Secondly, and this relates to the failure of the end of times, Aziraphale doesn't do well taking instructions and doing what he is told. It's how he has fumbled his way through the millenia he has been on the surface. Sure, he followed heavenly orders when he wanted to, but as soon as they wanted him to do something he didn't necessarily agree with, all bets were off the table. He didn't ask, he just did and it was heavens poor monitoring of this principality that allowed his nature in the way he does things to be a bit more frivolous. Thirdly, and this is one of the most important bits, you don't get through centuries in London without picking up a few bits here and there, going a bit native as the heavenly order might say.

"What-What do you mean 'actually you are wrong'? You are helpless to my legion! You have no help! Crowley and heaven have left you behind! You are nothing in comparison to me!"

"Again, you are wrong" gently spoke Aziraphale, a polite smile now occupying his face as he gently reached to grab a copy of 'The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde (and other stories)'. Gently he glided his fingers over the leather cover, he first got this book a few years after it's release in 1886. It has caught his eye in around 1893 when publishers decided to compile this story and the works of others in one book. And while he would have like to have individual copies of each story, he couldn't resist the beautiful binding of the book at that time. Of course, this didn't matter too much in the long run as by 1927 he had come into possession of hand binded copies of each story. Which is why he felt no particular remorse when....editing this version.

"What are you doing, now is not the time to be caressing a dusty book Mr Fell," whispered Nina in a hushed but agitated voice. The demons were starting to slowly move in again after being at ease for the few seconds in which Shax had been talking and Nina would quite like to make her way out of this alive thank you very much.

"Listen to the human,"Shax spoke." Stop delaying and plead for forgiveness at the ruthless claws of my demons!"

" Oh you are still quite incorrect i'm afraid. You see, it will be your army that will need to be asking her grace for forgiveness soon enough."

With a rapid movement Aziraphale had flipped open the book, pulled out a small hand gun and lifted it to eye level, finger resting in the trigger.

Shax laughed, "A gun! You couldn't possibly dream of harming us with that human contraption!"

"Incorrect once again I'm afraid. You see your mortal bodies are susceptible to human wounds, a bullet in the right place would discorporate you. However, as precaution this gun has been consecrated and each bullet blessed using holy water. Forget inconveniently discorporated, you will be permanently gone. I didn't want to use this, violence has never really been my fortitude but i have warned you many times and asked you politely to leave a plethora more. Now I'm fed up and just want to keep Nina and Maggie safe. Get out of my book shop!"

His index finger squeezed the trigger and a bullet flew straight though a demons head. Immediately discorporating them and leaving their body to slowly break down on the floor at Shax's feet.