#and i snapped at her because i thought she was going to bully me (because that was what happened in my previous school)

[riddikulusravenclawbelle]

miss possessive

plot - Belle and Rafe are both grappling with feelings they can’t quite name—but somehow, they always find each other when the masks slip. Unfortunately for them, vulnerability doesn’t always come with kindness.

tropes - enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, and pogue x kook.

wc - 5.1k 😋

warnings - harassment, bullying, and curse words.

final notes - i hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as i loved writing it--and hate olivia as much as i do lolll. this is part 4 of my ruin me gently series! go read the first three so you're up to date!

The water was scalding hot.

Rafe let it burn.

Steam clung to the mirror like a second skin.

He stood still, letting the heat smack the back of his neck and trail down his spine to the floor.

His head throbbed from yesterday.

Kelce’s teasing.

Belle falling.

Kooks laughing at her.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Last night shouldn’t matter.

She shouldn’t matter.

It was just a beach day. Kooks being Kooks.

And she wasn’t even supposed to be there.

But she was.

With the Pogues, no less.

She probably thought he hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

Every. Damn. Detail.

The way she laughed at something JJ said.

The way she stood close to Sarah.

The flicker of something—sharp, unreadable���in her eyes when she spotted Olivia by his side.

Jealousy?

No.

Maybe.

He was probably making it up, like he always did when it came to Belle.

“What’re you even doing, Cameron?” he muttered.

He punched the shower wall—not hard, just enough to feel something.

Anything besides this.

These feelings.

Because he couldn’t have them.

Didn’t want them.

She’s not yours, he reminded himself. You don’t even want her to be.

Then why the hell was she still under his skin?

Maybe he should just text Olivia.

A distraction.

Something easy.

Anything to stop thinking about Belle Maybank.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

Belle adjusted her polo shirt and smoothed out her tennis skirt before stepping out of the employee bathroom. 11:00 AM.

One more hour, she told herself.

She didn’t hate the job. Being a golf course attendant was kind of fun, actually.

She’d perfected the fake smile, the flirty customer service voice, and the art of stroking Kook egos for fat tips—straight from their daddy’s wallets, no doubt.

Belle was halfway through organizing a basket of golf balls when she heard it.

“Well, if it isn’t the help,” Ruthie said, swinging her golf club with dramatic flair as she strolled up.

Less than an hour, Belle. Just hang on.

She turned, ready to plaster on her customer service smile—the one that usually did the trick.

But it faded the second she saw Olivia beside her.

Both of them were blatantly out of dress code.

Shorts too short, button-downs undone in a way that screamed intentional. They looked ethereal. Disgustingly beautiful.

How could someone so pretty be so ugly inside?

“Hey, Belle,” Olivia chirped, voice sugar-sweet. “Didn’t know you worked Sundays. That’s… dedication.”

She gave Belle a once-over before flashing a polished smile.

“Or desperation,” Ruthie muttered, pretending to inspect her manicure.

Belle forced a tight-lipped smile. “Just doing my job. Do you guys need help with anything golf-related?”

“Nope,” Olivia said, smile never wavering. “We had other plans, but we heard the view was worth it.”

They giggled like it was some private joke.

Don’t bite. Don’t give them the satisfaction.

But her patience was hanging by a thread.

Ruthie stepped closer, her voice low and razor-sharp.

“We saw you at the Boneyard, by the way. Cute that you still hang with JJ and the dirtbags.”

Belle’s jaw clenched. “He’s my brother,” she said flatly, turning back to the basket of golf balls.

“Hey, we’re talking to you!” Ruthie snapped, shoving her hard enough to send her sprawling to the ground.

Belle blinked up at them, heart pounding.

“I’m just glad he’s back to his type,” Olivia added, crouching beside her like some benevolent queen addressing a peasant.

“I know you thought you had a little moment with Rafe, but… he’s mine. He would never go for a Pogue.”

Belle wanted to scream. To punch Olivia—and Ruthie even harder.

But she was at work.

So she swallowed it. Brushed herself off. And kept organizing the damn golf balls.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for her shift to end. She clocked out immediately.

She hopped into JJ’s truck.

“Hey, how was Kook Kingdom today?” JJ joked.

“Fine,” Belle replied flatly, staring straight at the road.

“You, uh, hungry?” JJ asked. He could sense something was off but didn’t want to push.

Belle nodded. “Can we just stop somewhere quiet?”

“F’course,” JJ said.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the gravel parking lot of an old food shack—empty of tourists or Kooks.

The kind of place filled with nostalgia from when the Pogues were kids.

“You good? I can hang if you want,” JJ offered.

“Nah. I’ll text you when I’m done. I just need silence,” she said quietly.

“I understand.”

She slid into a booth—dim, nearly empty. Just how she needed it.

Then she felt it. A shift in the air.

She felt him before she saw him.

“Hey,” Rafe said, standing beside the booth. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Or eaten. “How’re you?”

“Like you care,” she said, picking at her food.

He flinched. But he stayed.

“Belle, I—” he paused, searching the walls for the right words. “Can I sit?”

Belle shrugged.

For a minute, neither of them said a word.

But somehow, everything felt louder.

“I didn’t know you guys were gonna be there,” Rafe confessed.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said, bitter. “You two looked perfect. Even Sarah thinks so.”

She still hadn’t looked up at him.

If he hadn’t given her eye contact before, why should she?

“I didn’t say anything because…” he trailed off. “I didn’t know what to say.”

She swallowed hard. “You didn’t have to say anything. Ignoring me worked just fine.”

“Belle—”

“Don’t.”

Not angry. Not loud.

Just tired.

Silence.

“Did you know your girlfriend visited me at work today?”

She finally looked at him.

“What?”

“Yeah. Gave me this nasty bruise,” she said, gesturing to her knee.

It wasn’t entirely true. But Olivia was guilty by association, right?

“She doesn’t even golf—”

“So she is your girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter to you—”

“It doesn’t.”

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Just stared at her, jaw clenched like he was chewing on a thousand words.

Cherry-picking which ones to say.

“It didn’t mean anything,” he finally said.

“Right,” she chuckled bitterly. “Because everything you do doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s not what I—” he stopped, ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t ask her to do that. I didn’t even know she went.”

“Well, you didn’t stop her. Or Kelce.”

Her voice softened. Like a confession.

“You didn’t even text me back.”

“I meant to—”

She snorted, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.”

And she could see it—it was taking everything in him to stay semi-calm.

“You don’t have to say anything, Rafe. You made it pretty clear.”

She brushed past him.

But he caught her wrist—gentler this time, not like before.

“Belle.”

She didn’t turn.

“Let go.”

“I care,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t—but I do.”

That made her pause.

She turned just enough for him to see her eyes—tired, bitter, guarded.

“You’re the most evil person on earth, Rafe Cameron.”

His face twitched. Just for a second.

Then he let go.

Belle didn’t wait for a reply. She straightened her shirt and walked out.

“And the worst part is,” she added, voice shaking now, “I think I still wanted you to prove me wrong.”

She left him standing in the dim light, for once—speechless.

He put his head in his hands.

He could not figure her out.

Back in JJ’s truck, Belle sat quietly, eager to get home and scrub off the sweat and the lingering touch of Rafe Cameron.

It was mostly a silent ride.

The kind of silence only JJ could give—comfortable, safe.

“Whoa. Who gave you that shiner?” he asked, finally noticing her knee.

“Nobody.”

“B—” he warned, side-eyeing her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Ruthie and that Olivia girl showed up at my work. Pushed me.”

“What?!” JJ’s whole body tensed.

“It’s not a big deal, J,” she muttered.

“It is a big deal,” he said, gripping the wheel tighter. “Next time, you tell me.”

Belle nodded faintly, watching the trees blur past.

“Yeah.”

Silence again—but heavier now.

“You wanna go home or…?”

She hesitated.

“No. Can we just… drive a little longer?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We’ll drive.”

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

Rafe woke up angry. He’s been angry—ever since he heard about Olivia’s stunt at the golf course. He can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than just Ruthie and Olivia—like something deeper is festering.

And now Olivia was on his porch, waiting for him like she always does. Her expensive sunglasses perched on her head, a sweet smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Rafe,” she coos, but the way she says his name makes his skin crawl a little. “You didn’t answer my texts last night. I thought we were having fun?”

He doesn’t feel like having fun.

“I was busy.” he muttered.

He feels like he’s drowning, the weight of everything pressing down on him. Olivia has always been an easy distraction—one that’s never really mattered—but now, with Belle stuck in his head, He’s not sure he can deal with this anymore.

He wants to confront her. 

Olivia tilts her head, watching him with her tongue in her cheek and a look that’s both curious and calculating. “Busy with what?”

“I don’t know, Olivia,” he grits through his teeth, rubbing a hand over his face. “Maybe with my fucking conscience.”

She laughs—a short, breathy sound that grates on his nerves. “Oh, that’s rich. But you know you don’t have to apologize for last night. I’m not the one you need to worry about.”

“I’m not worried about you.” He says, his chest tightening. It feels like it’s about to burst.

“Then what are you worried about?” She rises, stepping closer. “Belle?” Her voice drops at the name drop.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He said, rather as a statement than a question.

“You look like you want to take her clothes off whenever she’s around. I’m not stupid Rafe.” The edge is her voice is as sharp as a knife. “She’s not a lost puppy. She’s a pogue.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t deserve me,” she says, smirking as she turns to leave.

 He almost lets her.

“Olivia.” he says, softer than intended. She turns around.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says, taking a step closer.

Olivia raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Didn’t mean what?”

“Look,” Rafe says, running a hand through his hair again, trying to find the right words. “I don’t need you to make me feel good about myself, okay? I know what I am. But I don’t want to lose you—not right now. I need you.”

“You need me?” She smirks, she loves the idea of being in power. Rafe knew that.

Olivia stares at him for a beat, then smirks, leaning forward just enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “Alright, I’ll stick around. But don’t think for one second I’m just going to wait around while you fix whatever’s broken in your head.”

Rafe watches her walk away, feeling the tension still hanging in the air. He wants to shake it off, but there’s that damn weight again, the pull of something he’s not ready to face. He watches Olivia leave, knowing she’s just another distraction. Another excuse. Another wall between him and the one thing he can’t stop thinking about.

Belle.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

Rafe sat on the hood of Kelce’s Jeep, half a blunt in one hand, a beer bottle in the other—warm and forgotten.

Topper tossed a rock toward the trees. “You gonna tell us what’s crawled up your ass, or do we have to guess?”

Rafe didn’t answer—just stared straight ahead.

Kelce snorted. “Let me guess. Pogue girl trouble? That Belle girl? Heard Ruthie pushed her at the course.”

Rafe froze mid-drag. “Ruthie?” He looked at Kelce.

Kelce nodded, like Rafe was the idiot in this conversation. “Yeah. Ruthie said Belle was mouthing off, so she gave her a little shove. Classic.”

Topper barked a laugh. “Damn. Ruthie’s savage.”

Rafe wasn’t laughing.

Belle said Olivia gave her the bruise.

Why would she lie?

Did she think that’d split him and Olivia up?

Kelce kept grinning, completely oblivious to the storm brewing behind Rafe’s eyes. “Anyway, don’t let some Maybank mess with your head. You’ve got Olivia. She actually gets you.”

Rafe didn’t respond.

But the thing that stuck with him—wasn’t Kelce’s smug smirk or Topper’s laughter echoing behind him.

It was that image of Belle.

On the ground.

Looking up at him like he was the one who’d hurt her.

And now?

Now it all felt like a game.

Fine.

She wanted to lie?

He could play that game too.

Rafe pulled out his phone, already texting Olivia back.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

The moon rippled across the lake, its reflection stretching in slow waves. Belle sat with her knees tucked to her chest, a hoodie draped over her jean shorts. Sarah lounged beside her, legs stretched out, toes skimming the water.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”

Belle wanted to say no.

She wanted to say actually, your brother is the reason.

Instead, she gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Just tired.”

Sarah glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “You gonna tell me what happened at the course?”

Belle exhaled, the memory still sitting heavy on her chest. “It was nothing. Kooks being Kooks. I’m over it.”

Sarah frowned but didn’t press. For a moment, the silence returned—easy, familiar. Then her whole energy shifted.

“Alright. Get up,” Sarah said, already standing.

“What?” Belle blinked, confused.

“We’re going to a party.”

“Do I have to?” Belle groaned.

Sarah nodded firmly, crossing her arms. “Yes. And you’re wearing real clothes this time. No more Maybank boy hoodies.”

Belle rolled her eyes, fighting a battle with a smile she ultimately lost.

She stood anyway.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

The party was at some random Kook’s house—a friend of a friend of Sarah’s. Two stories, string lights, and a fancy pool in the backyard. Just enough “daddy’s money” energy without making Belle feel completely out of place.

Rafe knew exactly what he was doing—letting Olivia hang off his arm like she was a designer accessory. She laughed too loudly at things he didn’t even say, traced circles on his chest with her nails, bit her lip when she looked at him. And he let her.

He needed Belle to see this. Needed her to feel it—like he felt every word she’d said in the dark. Every lie she let slip from her lips like it didn’t matter.

And Belle knew exactly what she was watching. Olivia, in a low-cut sundress, clinging to him like she belonged there. Rafe’s hand low on her back, leaning in when she spoke. Every calculated move he made hit Belle square in the chest—and still, she couldn’t look away.

She just stood there, drink in hand, seething, while Sarah talked to a guy Belle couldn’t remember the name of.

Rafe leaned in again, smiling at something Olivia whispered—then glanced up, just once, to make sure Belle saw.

Oh, she saw.

Belle finally tore her eyes away from the scene. But it was too late. Every emotion she’d tried to bury clawed its way to the surface—jealousy, betrayal, whatever the hell else was mixing in there. It stung.

This? This was worse than the beach.

“Hey, Sarah, let’s get drinks,” she said.

“That’s the spirit!”

Sarah looped her arm through Belle’s, dragging her toward the drink table, past a cluster of laughing Kooks and down the side of the house. Belle tried not to hear Olivia’s high-pitched giggle trailing behind them like smoke.

Rafe leaned against the wall by the bar, jaw tight.

“Dude, you’re brooding like you’re in a CW show,” Kelce said, handing him a drink.

“I’m fine,” Rafe muttered.

“Yeah, super convincing. Especially with that death stare aimed at the girl you’re ‘supposedly’ over.”

Rafe didn’t respond. He hated that she wasn’t looking at him. Hated the way she might be when he wasn’t watching. Hated that he cared at all.

He took a long sip, letting the alcohol burn. Closed his eyes. Leaned his head back against the wall.

“She’s not even talking to any guys,” Kelce added. “Just hanging with your sister like she’s on a mission to chill.”

“Let her,” Rafe said flatly, rolling his eyes. “She made her choice.”

“Right,” Kelce said, following his gaze. “So... you and Liv. Official? Or just vibing?”

Rafe ignored him.

His eyes locked back onto Belle across the patio—just in time to see her laugh. Not at him. Not with him. At something Sarah said.

Something in his chest cracked.

He wanted to be the reason she laughed.

She lied to you, he reminded himself.

Belle leaned over the punch bowl, pouring something questionable into her cup.

“Want me to mix something better?” a voice asked beside her.

She looked up. Some guy she vaguely recognized—nice smile, backwards hat, definitely not a Pogue.

She hesitated, then smiled. “Sure.”

“So... where have I seen you before?”

“I work at the golf course. You’ve probably seen me there.”

Their conversation was easy. Light.

And across the party, Rafe saw it.

Saw the way Belle tilted her head back laughing. Saw how she angled her body toward the guy.

And he snapped.

“Come with me,” he murmured into Olivia’s ear, eyes never leaving Belle. He didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled Olivia toward the hallway.

Belle looked up just in time to see Olivia’s hand slip into Rafe’s.

Sarah followed her gaze and swore. “He’s such a damn idiot.”

Belle’s smile faltered. But she didn’t let it break her. Not yet.

Two can play at that game, Cameron.

Rafe’s grip on Olivia’s wrist was tight enough to make her stumble slightly in her heels as he dragged her down a dim hallway. The bass from the party thumped behind them, muffled now by closed doors and the hum of his own pulse.

He spun to face her, eyes dark. “Why’d you go to the golf course?”

Olivia blinked. “Are we really doing this now?”

“Answer me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ruthie wanted to hit some balls or whatever. I went for the vibes.”

Rafe stared at her, jaw ticking.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t even do anything. Ruthie was the one who got weird. I was just there.”

“She had a bruise,” Rafe said lowly.

“She probably tripped,” Olivia scoffed. “Seriously, Rafe. Who cares? If she can’t handle a few comments, maybe she shouldn’t be working there.”

Then, quieter: “She’s probably just jealous I’m with you. She’s got a crush, you know.”

Her hands slid to his chest.

That should’ve made him feel something. Victory. Power.

But all he felt was that echo in his mind—Belle’s voice in the shack: You’re the most evil person alive, Rafe Cameron.

Maybe she wasn’t wrong.

“Forget it,” he muttered, stepping back.

Olivia stepped forward instead. “Okay,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

He kissed her back.

But it didn’t feel like anything.

Not like her.

Not like Belle.

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

She wasn’t looking for him.

She swore she wasn’t looking for him.

But there he was.

Hand in hand with Olivia, slipping out of one of the back rooms like they hadn’t just emerged from every teenage cliché imaginable. Belle froze mid-sip, plastic cup hovering near her mouth, the taste of flat soda suddenly bitter on her tongue.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Belle muttered under her breath.

They didn’t see her—at least she didn’t think so. Olivia was giggling like she’d won, and Rafe had that same blank expression he always wore when he was trying not to feel something. Which meant he was feeling something.

Belle turned around too fast, bumping into someone—Sarah maybe, she didn’t even care—because she needed air. So, she went to the nearest balcony. So she could get air–away from people.

It was about 5 minutes of fresh air and silence before she heard a voice she came to know all too well.

“How’d I know I’d find you here, Belle.”

“Because I’m a cliché.” She replied sarcastically.

Rafe stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. The muffled thump of music faded, replaced by the sound of waves in the distance and Belle’s shallow breathing.

His hands were shoved into his pockets, his shoulders tight. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Belle turned her head just enough to glance at him. “Oh? Gonna call your girlfriend to come protect me?”

“She’s not—”

“Don’t. I saw you two leaving a room together. Don’t insult me by pretending.”

Rafe exhaled hard, like he wasn’t expecting this version of her—sharp-edged, already wounded.

“It wasn’t like that,” he muttered.

“You know, I actually thought you were human. Maybe broken and vulnerable inside.” She paused. “Why are you even with her, Rafe?” She looks at him. Her voice cracked, quiet and biting all at once.

She turned around to look at him. Tears formed in her eyes, catching in the light.

Something in his eyes shifted, like the question hit deeper than he wanted to admit.

“She just–it’s easier.”

“And I’m what? Complicated?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “You’re real. That’s the problem.”

Belle blinked, scoffed. “Go back inside, Rafe.”

“I didn’t come out here for her.”

Then Belle turned, wiping a single tear that rolled down her cheek. “Go back to your distraction.”

And Rafe did as she said– walked back into the party, as the music swallowed him whole.

Belle took a deep breath, stepping back into the party. “Belle!” a voice shouted over the bass. It was Sarah, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the crowd. “Come on, you’ve been mopey all night. At least pretend to have fun.”

Belle gave her a weak smile, letting herself be pulled into the pulsing center of the room. The floor vibrated beneath her feet, and for a second, it was easier to focus on the music than on the ache in her chest.

That’s when she saw him—the guy from earlier. The one who’d helped her with the punch. 

He caught her eye again, smirking like he’d been waiting for a second chance. “Hey,” he said, stepping into her space, his hands loose at his sides. “Still look way too cool to be here.”

Belle gave a breathy laugh. “That’s because I am.”

He grinned. “Dance with me?” 

She looked at Rafe and Olivia, their bodies barely leaving any room in between. 

“Yes.” She said as she took his hand. 

And she did. She let him put his hands on her waist. She let herself sway to the beat. She let her head tip back in a laugh, just once, just loud enough that Rafe could hear it across the room.

Because she knew he was watching. She didn’t have to look to feel it.

But she looked anyway.

And there he was—across the dance floor, Olivia draped over him like a scarf, her mouth close to his neck. But his eyes?

They were on her.

Belle’s heart stuttered.

The boy spun her gently, fingers curling around hers. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she faked a smile, then continued to look at Rafe.

The music intensed and that’s when her heart dropped.

Slowly, deliberately—he leaned down and kissed Olivia.

But his eyes never left Belle.

“You wanna get out of here?” The boy asked,his breath brushing her ear. She bit her lip and nodded, intertwining her hand with his. 

She wasn’t thinking about what came next. She just needed out—of this house, this night, this feeling. She didn’t care where they went. As long as it wasn’t here.

If he gets a distraction, she can have one for the night.

They were halfway to the front door, his hand still in hers, when she heard it.

“Belle.” Not loud, not angry. Just… there. And it stopped her cold.

She turned.

Rafe was standing at the base of the stairs, Olivia nowhere in sight. His expression was unreadable, but his chest rising fast like he’d just run through the crowd.

“Don’t.” he said in a serious tone, eyes fixated on the couple’s hands. “Don’t go with him.”

Belle’s pulse pounded in her ears.

“Why? You’re the only one who gets to ignore his feelings?”

“Just–don't.”

She let out a bitter laugh, but her fingers slipped from the boy’s anyway. The silence between them was loud, full of unsaid things and the weight of every moment they’d let pass by.

The guy raised his hands, awkward. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around.”

Belle didn’t answer. Rafe stepped closer. 

Once he was gone, Rafe closed the space between them just enough for her to feel the heat rolling off him.

“You don’t get to do that,” she said quietly, chin tilted up.

“I don’t?” he said, voice low. “Then what the hell was that back there?”

“You kissed her.” Her voice cracked. “While looking at me.”

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t have to.

“I’m so done with your games, Rafe,” she whispered. “Tired of pretending I don’t care when I do.”

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “And what? You gonna follow it up with another kiss for Olivia? Or maybe take her upstairs again just to prove a point?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t take her upstairs.”

“Oh, so you just stood outside the room with her doing nothing, making it look like you did?” she snapped, voice rising with every syllable. “For what?”

“I was pissed,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Because you lied to me.”

“You say the right things when it’s convenient for you, like When I’m halfway out the door, with a guy I don’t even know the name of. But the second I’m in the same room as you again, I’m just another game piece.” She said, maintaining eye contact, deadpanning him.

“That’s not true.”

“I should punch you right now.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Tell me how you feel, and I won't leave with him.” She whispered. 

Rafe reached out wordless, but she stepped back.

Belle simply smiled. “Have a great night, Rafe.” Then she walked out like he hadn’t just lost her.

Twenty minutes had passed but Rafe was still frozen, staring at the door as Olivia’s arm was wrapped around his. The air in the room felt suddenly thick, suffocating.

Olivia's voice cut through his thoughts, but it felt hollow. "Rafe, you okay?"

He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t. His feet moved before his brain could catch up, cutting through the crowd, pushing through bodies, just to get to the door.

But he stopped at the porch. She was already gone.

Little did he know, Belle was still there. She was just in the hot tub. She knew she couldn’t leave Sarah, so she wore a bathing suit as her underwear–just in case.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and he helped her into the tub.

Belle thought it was a casual hangout. They hadn’t been very intimate. Plus, it was just a way to make Rafe jealous. 

Then he moved closer. His hand brushed against her knee, lingering just a second too long. Belle stiffened.

“Hey,” he said softly, his breath warm against her neck. “You’re different from all the other pogue girls, you know that?”

She smiled faintly, trying to keep the mood light, but the words didn’t quite come out right. “Thanks, I guess. But I’m not really looking for anything.”

He laughed, low and almost too smooth. “Yeah me either, just a little fun.”

Before she could respond, he slid closer, his hand resting on her thigh. She pulled away, shaking her head.

“Stop,” she said, voice sharp. “I said I’m not interested.”

His grin faltered for a second before his expression hardened. “You sure about that? You’re all over me one minute, and now you’re just gonna play hard to get?”

Belle’s stomach twisted, a mix of annoyance and discomfort bubbling up. “I’m not playing anything. Just be a normal fucking person and respect it.”

“Aw, I love it when you play hard to get.” He said, reaching for her upper thigh.

“Everything okay here?” Rafe asked, his jaw set, fists clenched at his sides.

Rafe’s tone was low, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. The guy turned around, surprised, as Rafe stepped into the light, eyes locked on him like a predator about to strike.

The guy stood up, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, man, we’re just talking. Not your business anyways–”

Rafe didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. He moved forward, fast, and shoved him back. The guy stumbled, hitting the ground hard.

“Not sure I made myself clear,” Rafe growled, stepping closer. “You stay the hell away from her.”

The guy scrambled to his feet, but Rafe was already swinging, a punch landing squarely in his stomach. He gasped, his hand reaching for Rafe’s arm, but Rafe shoved him again, sending him reeling.

“Get the hell out of here,” Rafe spat, his chest heaving with barely-contained anger.

Belle stood frozen, her heart pounding as she watched the guy scramble away, disappearing into the crowd. Rafe’s gaze didn’t leave him until he was out of sight.

He turned to Belle, his expression softening, but there was still tension in his jaw.

“You alright?” he asked, voice quieter now, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah–just, you didn’t have to do all that.” she paused. She didn’t know if she should be pissed or thankful. “Thanks, though.” 

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body. “I didn’t like seeing him touch you.”

Belle swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“I don’t care,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto hers. There was something unspoken between them now—too many words left unsaid, too much tension hanging in the air. “You’re not getting that from anyone else.” His voice was low, rough, and Belle felt her chest tighten at the words.

Then, he just walked away–and returned to the party. Leaving Belle standing there, pissed, confused, thankful, and frankly? Turned on.

[aventurineswife]

Hey! I kinda had this thought for a while that I kinda wanted to share with you for a concept of the SAHSRAU.

it's kinda or semj related to the Reader/Creator having children. So creator is an extremely caring and empathetic person especially towards the children, Sinxe they view the children as very innocent and have some extreme parental instinct. However what if in some cases the reader can feel their trauma, pain and suffering and causes them to go after the person that caused them harm. Now what I mean by this let's take for example HuoHuo. Huo Huo who has been abandoned by her parents and unamed younger sister experienced abandonement issues and lots of bullying because of this the Reader is an extremely soft and acts as a parental figured towards her. However if by some coincindence the reader spots Huo Huo's parents by the distance. Their behaviour would take a 180 degree turn. Let me make a little scenario

The reader is currently helping Huo Huo and the ghost hunting squad on a comission. After said comission was done the reader decided to hang out a bit with Huo Huo. Whoever in the distance Huo Huo's mother could be seen. Which is a miracle by itself considering since Huo Huo's mother didn't wanted a "cursed" child. The reader felt they were being watched as they look around they inmediately recognized the figure. Their loving and calm gaze was replace by this unreadable expression.

Huo Huo: "C-Creator...W-what's wrong?" *She noticed the creator waa looking at something and so did mister Tail. She slowly look at the source of this Creator's glaze and she noticed it was her mother. She gently looks down as a remainder of her past came sinking in that only fuels the creator's vengeful side*

Meanwhile the creator's glaze was turning venomous and almost murderous aa the entire Xianzhou felt the changed of weather as the clouds werw becominh darker and the creators eyes were turnung red. Meanwhile Huo Huo's mother felt and intense sense of burning on her very soul like she was being judge and punished and an invisible hand chocking her but before The creator could go any further

Mr Tail: "Hey! Snap of it!"

Suddently the Creator's eyes turned back to normal and they seemed to noticed tje damage as everyone was looking at them with fear wondering what could havw gotten them in such a bad mood all of a sudden

Creator: "My apologies...How about we go get something to eat elsewhere?" *They said with a loving smile as they took Huo Huo away from the scene they unintentinally cause but not before giving one last glare that burn brighter than the sun at Huo Huo's mother that was shaken to her very core. That glare was a silent promise of retribution. Meanwhile everyone look at tje scene and gave Huo Huo's mother a funny look and some werhe whispering on how the creator venomous look were pointed at her*

Like this concept could go hard because I feel like people more often than not yhe creator can have a darker side but that darker side will only manifest when their beloved acolytes or followers were deeply hurt. Kinda like a vengeful angel seeking some sort of justice for the innocent that has been wronged. The crazy part about this is that even if the creator doesn't really "cursed" them. They won't be able to hide forever since their reputation might end up ruined because word will spread on the source of the creator's wrath.

What do you think about this concept?

I LOVE this concept—like, genuinely, this is one of the most emotionally loaded and thematically powerful takes I’ve seen for a SAHSRAU Creator.

1. The Duality of Divinity: Warmth + Wrath

You’ve created a Reader that is both sanctuary and storm. They're soft with the hurt, the lonely, and the broken (like Huo Huo), but when the cause of that pain comes into view? That divinity turns predatory. It's not about blind rage—it’s divine protection. And that's more terrifying than just wrath.

That subtle shift:

“Their loving and calm gaze was replaced by this unreadable expression.” Chills.

2. Huo Huo’s Trauma Through a Divine Lens

Having the Creator feel the lingering trauma of children like Huo Huo makes the bond more than emotional—it’s spiritual. And that hits so hard in SAHSRAU because it paints the Reader not just as a god who sees, but one who remembers and feels for their children in a way no one else can.

It also gives so much weight to your idea of the Reader having “children”—not literally, but as emotional wards of their divine care.

3. The Consequence Without Words

The fact that: “The creator didn’t curse her.” But instead… ruined her reputation by being seen, by a glare, by letting the world draw its own conclusions—that's chillingly holy. It leans into the mythology SAHSRAU thrives on. Letting the divine remain ambiguous, but undeniably felt.

4. The Creator’s Wrath Becomes Myth

You’re right: word would spread. Fast. That this person was the reason the Creator’s mood shifted. That the skies darkened. That the ground felt like it was ready to open up. That Mr. Tail had to snap the god out of it.

From there, the whispers start:

“Who is that woman?”

“What did she do to Huo Huo?”

“If the Creator looked at me like that, I think I’d drop dead.”

And Huo Huo? She wouldn’t rejoice. But she’d quietly curl closer into the warmth of the Reader, maybe for the first time… feeling like someone finally chose her.

This Concept Is Divine Justice.

It’s protective. It’s vengeful. It’s loving in a fierce, radiant, terrifying way.

[bincliff]

.

[5sospenguinqueen]

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark. 

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try 

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these 

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It gave a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could always ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl 

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me 

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today 

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact 

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here 

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1? 

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that 

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning 

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later 

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao 

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team 

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror 

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption 

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot 

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb? 

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good 

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way 

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with 

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush 

→ user11 revenge, hate sex 

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her 

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?! 

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew! 

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided 

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances 

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man 

sebastianvettel oh

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[jarofstyles]

Migraine

Hello!! I've got part one of a two parter here for you. It was originally a one shot but it’s close to 18k... so I decided to split it up. Next part will be posted in a week or so!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings and series

DISCLAIMER- People with migraines get different auras, have different triggers, etc. I tried to represent them as I am familiar with, it may not be the same for you or a loved one who deals with them!

WC- 6.1k

Warnings- descriptions of migraines, asshole H, angst, pining, mention of nausea and pain, mention of bullying

The office was filled with the usual hum of keyboards and muffled phone conversations, but unfortunately, Y/N could always pick out Harry's voice above the rest. He was always laughing too loudly, always arguing with the printer, always finding some reason to be annoying. She sat at her desk, trying to focus on her task list, but Harry's constant chatter was grating on her nerves. "Y/N!" Harry called out, wandering over to her desk.

“What?” She sighed, the persistent rising of the headache throbbing at her temples as she didn’t bother looking in his direction. Feeding into his antics never ended up going the way she wanted. And yet, it always happened. 

"I need you to print out this report for me." Harry said as he strolled into her office like he owned the place, dropping a stack of papers onto her desk.  Her body jerked as the paper was plopped haphazardly, as usual, almost knocking over the far too expensive iced latte she’d picked up on her way in. Reflexes caught it in time, but a few condensation droplets wet the papers she had currently been working on.  Ever since he’d been assigned as the lead on the project he’d been rubbing it in her face, acting like her boss even though he wasn’t… and she was tired. 

“I’ll also need you to make some copies of these contracts. Oh, and while you're at it, could you grab me a coffee from the break room?" He leaned against her desk, his eyes tinged with amusement as he waited for her to respond. Like this was some sort of game.

“I’m not your assistant Harry. I’m working on my own stuff. Find someone else to do it- or better yet, do it yourself.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her sudden defiance. He really hadn't expected that level of backbone from her. Usually it took a little more to make her get snappy, but she was playing into it today even if she thought she wasn’t. A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, Y/N, aren't you just adorable when you're mad at me." He tapped the stack of papers with his fingers. "And here I thought we were a team. Is it too much to ask for a little teamwork?"

She could see her vision waver- and unfortunately, it wasn’t just from the annoyance his presence tended to naturally bring. It wasn’t uncommon for ocular migraines to get her, but her headache had been bad all day. The warning signs had been there when she woke up, even more so an hour ago when the metallic taste had entered her mouth, but she’s decided to go to work regardless. Dedicated to the job, Y/N didn’t take time off unless absolutely necessary. 

Harry really didn’t understand how brutal migraines could be and she knew that, but he chose the worst times he possibly could to mess with her. Like he had some sort of monitor on her to tell him exactly when the worst time was to bother her. “Yes. I need to be left alone, please.” She took a sip of her watered down coffee to get caffeine in her, but it was taking a bit to work on her.

He knew she got headaches sometimes, but he also knew she hated it when anyone really brought it up because she didn't want anyone to 'baby' her. So… he decided to push a little more. Watching Y/N's hand as she brought her light colored coffee with condensation dripping down the side to her lips again, he got momentarily distracted by her lips wrapped around the straw before snapping out of it. Simply staring wasn’t going to get her to respond. Leaning in closer, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. "You know, there are studies that show that loud noises can actually trigger headaches t’get worse." He tapped his fingers on her desk, the sound deliberately loud and irritating. "And some people say that stress makes it even worse too."

“Yeah, it can. So can you go away?” She snapped, glowering down at the desk in front of her. What she really meant was Fuck Off, but she didn’t really use that langauge too often. Usually, she didn’t want to give in to whatever antics the stupidly stubborn man tried to bring to get her to break- but the throb at her temples made it hard to have any tolerance at all. Harry liked to push buttons but especially liked to get under her skin. “Go get your own coffee and give me some silence.”

Harry chuckled, the sound grating on Y/N's already frayed nerves. "Aww, come on Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy- like this was a game. "I just want to make sure Y’know that, so you can get your job done. Maybe I should just sit here with you until your headache goes away. Make sure you’re not slacking off, hm?" He reached out and turned her computer monitor up to maximum brightness, the sudden blast of light making her wince. Harry was messing with her. He had no actual clue on how bad headaches could mess with her. It was fun to poke and prod to see her snarl back. “There. That should wake you up, since the coffee isn’t doing its job.”

Y/N had barely slept, her head was throbbing, her eyes blurry and her nerves completely fried. At some times he was a mere nuisance, like a fly buzzing in her ear that she could ignore if she tried to tune him out. Harry was a bit of a clown around the office, liked to make people laugh, but he especially liked to mess with Y/N. Perhaps it was because she was quiet and not as outwardly receptive, but she really didn’t like how obnoxious he could get. 9 times out of 10, she could deal with it. 

Apparently, he caught her on the one day she couldn’t. 

Ignoring him, she shut her monitor off and buried her face in her hands, wincing as the pain radiated through her temples to the back of her eye. If you’d never experienced it you’d never know how blinding the pain could be. Literally and metaphorically.

Apparently, he was missing the memo, thinking she was playing along. He reached out and grabbed a nearby stapler, tapping it loudly on her desk. "Y/N?" He called out, his voice deliberately cheerful. "C’mon, enough with the headache excuse. Why are you ignoring me again?" He tapped the stapler faster, the noise grating and irritating. "I’ll stop once you tell me why you’ve got t’keep being such a killjoy. We’ve got work to do and ignoring me isn’t good for team building.”

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes against her will. The last thing she wanted was to have him see her cry. It was embarrassing, and she didn’t want him to know he had any power over her at all- even if this probably wasn’t the desired outcome- but it was hard not to react. She wanted her room, she wanted her blackout curtains and complete silence except the low sound of her fan. The last place she wanted to be was stuck in a room with someone who loved to make her insane, fucking with her and making her headache worse. Curling into herself, she let out a shuddering breath- and the tapping stopped.

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened as he let the silence take over, hearing her shaky breath. Harry hadn’t realized it before how her usual put-together appearance was completely disheveled- but he sure as fuck did now. 

Y/N wasn’t the type to come in with a hair out of place. Sometimes it pissed him off. Smart, put together, pretty Y/N not even looking his way. Thought she was too good to be his friend or something… but through his teasing he wanted to get her attention. Wanted her to talk to him since she didn’t on her own. The last thing he wanted was to actually piss her off… Let alone hurt her. "Shit..." he muttered, his voice losing its usual mocking tone. "Y/N?" Reaching out hesitantly, his hand hovering near her shoulder. It probably wasn’t appropriate to touch her but he felt a slight lick of panic run through his stomach. "Hey, are you alright? I was just messing around…" He trailed off, genuinely concerned. Harry could be annoying, he’d been told that plenty of times before- but purposefully inflicting pain wasn’t something he’d meant to do. That wasn’t something he’d ever want to truly do to someone. 

The girl sniffled, shaking her head. “No.” The break in her voice was enough to display that. “My head hurts and you couldn’t just leave me alone. I was trying to prevent this and now I feel like I’m going to throw up.” She wanted to be angrier, sound meaner, but her voice was shaky. Pathetic. She hated every bit of this. “Please, can you get out of my office? Let me turn my lights off.”

Harry's hand froze in mid-air as he’d gone to touch her again, her words hitting him like a physical blow. He hadn't meant to make her feel this way, to push her to the point of tears and nausea. His face fell, genuine remorse etched into his features even if she couldn’t see it. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry." He whispered, his usual bravado gone. "M’so sorry. I didn't realize... I thought you were just being stubborn, like always." He pulled his hand back, standing up slowly. "I'll go."

On his way out, he was especially gentle turning the lights out and closing the door. Guilt swam in his gut as he ran his hand over his face, going towards the break room. All he’d wanted was to play around. See if she’d shoot back and if their little dynamic of her being slightly irritated at his presence had changed to something more fond. He’d been trying to gain some sort of joke with her, make her spat back and forth with him until it would make her laugh. In the weird way he tried to show it, he had wanted to be her friend. 

No chance at that now. He’d properly blown it. 

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee, staring at the steaming liquid without really seeing it. The sound of Y/N's shaky breath echoed in his mind, making him feel like absolute shit. Running his hands through his hair, the frustration with himself built at the lack of cues he had really taken from her. Of course he’d known he could be oblivious, but he hadn’t anticipated a joke going wrong. The joke was on him - he’d broken her. For once, he wasn’t in control of the situation, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Sitting at the break room table, his coffee say untouched as he stared off into space. He kept thinking about Y/N's tears, the way her usually perfect hair was messy and stuck to her face. He kept replaying the way she'd asked him to leave her alone, her voice shaking with frustration and pain. He'd never seen her like that before, and it was hitting him hard. He felt like an asshole for pushing her so far, for not realizing how bad her headaches really were. 

“Hey. Do you know if Y/N having a headache? Her door is closed and the lights are off but I thought that she came in today.” Niall asked as he popped into the break room, taking the seat across from Harry.

Harry looked up, wincing slightly as he was broken from thought. "Yeah, she's got a bad one. Think I accidentally made it worse." The admission was spoken quietly, hand rubbing his face. "I was trying to be a dick and mess with her, but... I didn't realize how bad it was until she started crying." He sighed heavily. It was his own fault, but he couldn’t stop feeling like a complete idiot. "I just left her alone, but now I feel like shit for making her feel that way." He glanced up at Niall. "You know how she is with her headaches, right?" Much to his annoyance, Niall and Y/N had seemingly become friends much easier than he had been able to.

“Harry…” His disapproval was already on his face. “It’s not just a headache. Migraines can get really bad. My sister gets them. Been to the hospital multiple times just for relief because regular paracetamol doesn’t cut it. If Y/N ever misses a day, it’s because of them- and you know she hates missing anything. It’s like… a throbbing in your brain, sharp pain. Like the worst hangover you’ve had times a thousand. That’s how she said they were to me. They’re different types but…” Niall sighed. “You’re not a cruel guy, mate. Why were you messing with her if you knew she didn’t feel well?”

Harry's face fell in succession as he listened to Niall, realizing just how little he actually knew about migraines. He'd always just thought of them as a minor annoyance, something she could brush off- pop a pain relief and keep it going. But hearing Niall describe them as a "throbbing in her brain" made him feel sick to his stomach. He'd been so caught up in his own stupid game that he hadn't considered any of that. All he had wanted as her reaction. He’d gotten what he’d wished for, but it didn’t end up being the result he wanted. 

"I just... I don't know, Niall. I thought I was being funny, you know? Poking at her a little to get a reaction. But then she started crying and I... fuck, I feel like the biggest dickhead." Harry ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "I didn't mean to hurt her- I’d never want that and you know that. I just wanted her to talk to me, to acknowledge me since she never does on her own. But now I've probably just pushed her away even more."

“She’s not actively not trying to talk to you. I mean, after a bit yeah she probably is, cause you keep fucking with her, but she’s just a quiet person. Enjoys being behind the scenes. You’re always the center of attention. You probably intimidate her a bit.” Niall mused, taking a bit of his candy he’d pulled from his bag. “She’s not ridiculous. If you apologize and really feel bad, she’ll probably see it. But you keep acting like a prick trying to get the attention of the girls at school in front of her. You’ve got to cool it.”

"You think so?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing as he considered Niall's words. He'd never really thought about the fact that he might be intimidating to Y/N. He always just assumed she was ignoring him on purpose, like she was too good to talk to him- and besides, he didn’t considering himself intimidating in the slightest! Sure he was tall, a little loud and had some interesting tattoo choices but he was nice…. Wasn’t he? 

"So, you're saying I should apologize genuinely and lay off the jokes for a bit? That’s it?" He took Niall's advice seriously, seeing as Niall seemed to understand Y/N better than he did. It didn’t seem like enough to properly apologize but he would take his advice.

“Yeah. I’ve told you for a bit to lay off of her but you kept going at it.” He said with his mouth full, sending him a look.

Harry sighed, rubbing his face again. "I know, I know. I just... I was just joking with her, Niall. She's always been so quiet and reserved around me, it's like she's not even there half the time. And then when she does speak up, it's always to tell me to shut up or leave her alone. It's like she's just tolerating my presence or something." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. "I guess I just want her to notice me, you know?"

“Well, can’t say ya went about it the right way.” Niall snorted, shaking his head at the dumbass attempt. “But you can start when she’s done hurting. Make her a gift or get her a coffee, sit with her and genuinely apologize. She’ll hear you out, even if you probably don’t deserve it.”

——-

Hopefully, Niall hadn’t been full of shit. 

Harry watched nervously from his office across the hall as Y/N arrived, noticing the gift basket on her desk. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn't just throw it away without looking at the card. Annoyingly enough, her door had closed behind her. Letting out a breath of his own nerves, he leaned back in his seat- there had been the hope of at least seeing if she smiled.

Putting together a gift basket was much more difficult than he had anticipated, especially for Y/N. It was then that he realized he didn’t know much about her, and especially about migraines as a whole. He'd spent a long time picking out things he thought she might like - dark chocolates, a fancy journal, some cozy tea blends, migraine medication, some essential oils google said could help with headaches. And of course, a heartfelt apology note tucked away inside, scribbled in his messy handwriting.

Y/N, I'm an idiot. I realize that now more than ever. I'm sorry for pushing your buttons and making your headaches worse. I'm sorry for being a jerk and not realizing how much pain you were actually in. That isn’t an excuse, though. I know it isn’t going to make it better and I promise this isn’t an attempt to buy your forgiveness, but I made you a little… basket thing? There are some things that might help - chocolate for the sugar crashes, tea for relaxation, oil for your temples, and medicine to keep at your desk. I googled it, it’s the best rated one. Please forgive me for being a complete dickhead.

 - Harry

As the day wore on, Harry found himself constantly glancing over at Y/N's office, hoping to catch her attention when her door propped back open but he wasn’t having much luck. She seemed to be deliberately avoiding him, her head down and focused on her work. By the time 5 o'clock rolled around, he was starting to get frustrated- he had been buried in his own work as well, not able to get up and ask her much at all. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to her about the gift basket or his apology- or hear if she was telling him to fuck off The not knowing was killing him. 

Harry slumped in his chair, a deep frown etched onto his face as he watched Y/N gather her things to leave. His shoulders were tense, his stomach twisted in knots. Rejection clung to him like a damp sweater, uncomfortable and constricting. He felt foolish for thinking a gift basket would somehow magically fix everything, erase all the hurt he'd caused with his foolish teasing. It wasn’t like he thought she would just instantly accept his apology or something- but it had been a hope. His pride was stung, but more than that, he felt genuine regret and a tugging worry that he'd damaged their working relationship beyond repair- let alone any chance of actually being friends.

It had been obvious to him now more than ever, his flirting style needed work. His mother would absolutely smack him upside the head if she ever caught wind of any of what he’d done. This wasn’t the playground. The excuse of men being mean to women because they liked them was bullshit. In his defense, he wasn’t trying to be cruel on purpose. He was trying to tease her, get her to think he was funny, and start banter with her. Get her to react to him because she stayed to herself. She didn’t react to any of his jokes he’d told in the break room, scurrying off, barely interacting with him unless it was 100% necessary- it stung his ego but also motivated him to try and get her to laugh. To react in any way he could because he wanted her attention. 

Y/N was beautiful. He’d noticed that the first day she started. They’d been introduced by their boss, Harry nearly stumbling over his words as he greeted her. She’d let a little shy smile on her face as she waved at him and he’d felt his heart flip flop in his chest. She wasn’t his usual type, but she’d taken up a lot of his mind since that day. It had led to frustration, albeit immature, that she wasn’t paying him any mind unless he was bugging her and it became their norm. It wasn’t what he had wanted, no, but it was the only way he’d seen results. So he kept at it until he’d nearly fatally fucked up.

But finally, knocking him out of his train of thought, he heard her door close and the rattle of keys as she emerged from her office. Much more put together than yesterday, the only sign of anything being off being slight darkness under her eyes, she looked perfectly pieced in every place. 

As Y/N headed for the elevator, Harry finally gathered his courage and jogged to catch up with her. "Y/N, wait!" he called out, slightly out of breath. She paused, turning to face him with a guarded expression as he pulled to a stop outside the elevator. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, unsure of where to begin, he just let his mouth take over. "I just... I wanted to make sure you got the gift basket. And the note." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "Did you... did you read it?"

“Not yet.” She said quietly, shifting slightly on her feet. “I didn’t get a chance. I left early yesterday and couldn’t get all my work done yesterday so I had to immediately jump into things.”

"Oh, I see..." Harry nodded, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest at her admission. At least she hadn't dismissed his apology outright. He took a deep breath, deciding to lay it all out there. "Well, I put my heart into that note. I meant every word, Y/N. M’truly sorry for being such an inconsiderate dick. Your migraines aren't a joke, and I should have respected that. I truly didn’t know." He looked down at his shoes before meeting her gaze again, his expression earnest.

“Thank you for the apology. I’ll read it when I’m home.” It had been a curiosity for her all day. She had a feeling it was from him considering she saw his sloppy handwriting in the envelope resting on top, but she truly hadn’t had the time to read anything.  This was more than she had expected from him, that was for sure. He apologized in person and in the note she had yet to read and looked like he had been reprimanded but who knew? As genuine as his nerves seemed to be, it could have been another part of a joke. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry managed a small smile, relief washing over him knowing she hadn't thrown his apology away unread. "Okay. Yeah- yeah, no problem. Take care of yourself tonight." he said, his voice warm with sincerity that had been missing in most of their prior interactions. He’d always gone with the joking route, but it was apparent now that he had read her completely wrong. As Y/N stepped into the elevator, Harry watched the doors close, a plan forming in his mind. He would continue to show her through his actions that he was serious about changing. Maybe tomorrow he'd bring her favorite coffee as another peace offering. Baby steps, he thought. It was a start.

—

When Y/N got home she could properly inspect the small basket, but more importantly- the note.

Y/N blinked in surprise as she unfolded the note, her eyebrows raising slightly at the raw sincerity of Harry's words- and his slightly sloppy handwriting. A small, incredulous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she read about the idiocy he confessed to. She couldn't help but chuckle softly at the mention of chocolate for sugar crashes - a detail that showed he had actually looked some things up. The mention of the oils and medicine touched her unexpectedly, realizing the actual thought he'd put into items that could genuinely help her.

The more Y/N read the note, the more she wondered why Harry would go through all this trouble. He'd never shown this level of consideration before, always preferring to tease and joke around instead. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this apology than met the eye. As she set the note down, she couldn't help but wonder what Harry's endgame was.

As Y/N looked through the gift basket, she found herself softening towards Harry. The chocolates, the tea, the journal - it was all thoughtful and considerate. He'd clearly put a lot of effort into selecting things that might actually help her. And the note... the note was something else entirely. It was heartfelt and apologetic, with a hint of humor that made her smile. For the first time, she started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Harry was genuinely sorry for his actions. If so, that would be a first.

It was quickly decided that she needed to talk to Harry in person to get a better read on his intentions. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his apology than met the eye, and she wanted to know what was behind his sudden change of heart. To go from constant irritation to this? Maybe he really had learned his lesson and was genuinely trying to be a better colleague. Or maybe there was something else at play. Either way, she needed to have a conversation with him to clear the air. She just hoped he would listen.

———

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the office looking composed and put together, despite the lingering fatigue from her slightly sleepless night. The whole scenario had been hard to read and she knew there wouldn’t be much understanding until she actually got to speak to him. Walking in with her head held high, her eyes scanned the doors until they landed on Harry's office- thankfully with the light on and the door cracked open. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Harry looked up from his computer, his face lighting up in surprise as he saw her standing there. "Hey- hi," he said, setting his pen down. "What brings you here so early?"

“I read your note.” She said softly. “Weirdly enough, I believe you… about being sorry, and not knowing how bad my headaches got. I know I haven’t talked to you about them so I don’t expect you to fully understand it.” Rocking on her heels, she took another step into his office and closed the door behind her. “I just… I had a few questions that I don’t really understand. Why do you keep messing with me? Do you not like me or something? Did I do something?”

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he processed Y/N's questions, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently. "You read the note?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words to explain his behavior. "Look, Y/N, I haven’t been messing with you to piss you off. I was… I was trying to joke with you. You said you didn’t like people babying you over your headaches and stuff, so I didn’t think it was that serious. I was hoping you’d push back a bit and we could banter. I’d never purposely want you in actual pain." He promised. It felt a bit surreal to be talking to her like this, but she was giving him a generous opportunity to apologize. He’d been a real prick, and the least he owed her was the truth- even if it made him feel anxiety like never before. "I do like you, which might be the problem..." That lingered in the air before he continued.

"You're so quiet and always focused on your work that I thought you didn’t like me." Harry continued, his voice lowering as he admitted it. The concept felt a bit silly now saying it out loud. "I thought you were ignoring me on purpose because you were like… I don’t know. Not convinced I was cool enough. Or it was something personal about me that you disliked, and I don’t like being disliked. One of my many flaws.” He sent her a half smile before continuing. “So, I kept pushing your buttons to get a reaction out of you. But then I started realizing that you weren't ignoring me because you hated me, you were just... ignoring me.  I felt frustrated because you seemed to get on with everyone else well enough, but you never laughed at my jokes or really interacted with me when I tried to make you laugh... And then I figured out you’d snap back at me or talk to me if I irritated you a bit. It’s not my finest work, and I do regret it. Believe me." He paused, his mind reeling as he tried to put his thoughts into words. Being in front of her, even if he was the one behind the desk, was anxiety inducing. “I just didn’t know what to do to get you to like me.”

Harry couldn’t exactly read her face. It was hard to tell how she felt about it, so he continued on. "I know it sounds stupid now, but I really thought if I could just make you react to me, even if it was anger, it would be a start. But then you started crying and I felt like the worst prick alive. I never wanted you to actually be in pain. I thought we were just continuing on, you’d tell me to fuck off or something. Seeing you cry and be in pain made me feel like shit." Harry's voice cracked slightly as he relived the memory, his eyes dropping to the mess he’d made in his desk. "I've never seen you that upset before, and it scared me. I realized that I've been going about this all wrong and that I need to change my approach." That was an understatement. He shouldn’t have gone at it like that to begin with.

"So, to answer your question directly - no, I don’t dislike you. In fact, I think I might like you too much, which is why I've been acting like an idiot..." He trailed off, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admitted these things out loud. Thankfully Y/N had more sense than he did, not lingering on that confession.

“I never disliked you or anything. Not until you started picking on me.” She admitted with a furrowed brow. Had he really thought that? “I’m just not a super extroverted person. I don’t talk a lot to most people. It isn’t a reflection of you. Yeah, you were obnoxious sometimes.” The statement was blunt but it needed to be. “But only because I felt like you were singling me out to fuck with me. I dealt with that in school. People picking on me because I’m quiet and they don’t know much about me. In reality it would be easier to come up and ask me about things, try and talk without making it a joke. But there was never this… preconceived hatred of you or anything” That made her feel a lot of things. People always used to assume a lot about her feelings without talking to her first. It was human nature, she knew, being uncomfortable with the unknown- but that didn’t mean she liked people assuming stuff about her. Projection at its finest. “You know being rude to the girl you think is cool isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

He'd never stopped to consider that his teasing might be triggering past experiences for her. Honestly, he hadn’t considered that her being bullied at all was even an option. She was beautiful and sweet, definitely one of the most intelligent people on the floor. What would they have to tease her for? The idea that he'd inadvertently hurt her by projecting his own insecurities onto her made his stomach churn. "Fuck, I never even thought of it like that. M’sorry.” He murmured, running his hand through his hair sheepishly. "I guess I just assumed everyone reacted to jokes the same way. But being rude... yeah, I get it."

Y/N sighed, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. She could see the full realization dawning, the way his face fell as he understood the harm he might have caused- and that was hard to fake. It was a small comfort, but it was something at the very least. "It's okay." She said gently. "We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you're recognizing it and apologizing sincerely. That means a lot to me." In all actuality, it’s the most sincere apology she had received in a long time. “Your gift basket was very sweet, by the way. Well researched. I appreciated it a lot.”

"I'm glad you liked it." His shoulders fell a little at her response, a hint of relief coloring his tone. Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, he felt the reassurance he had needed too. Not that he was owed any, but it was nice to get regardless. He'd spent a considerable amount of time picking out items that he thought would help her, not knowing if she'd appreciate the gesture or throw it all away- but he had had to try at the very least. Y/N deserved it.  "I really did put thought into it. I know google has to be sick of me."

“You did a good job. I brought some of the stuff back here to keep in my desk in case of another headache.” It was beyond thoughtful. It hadn’t been lost on her that Harry had alluded to having a crush on her, but that wasn’t a subject she was going to broach with him today. 

It was something she was going to silently obsess over in the comfort of her own office.

 “We can be friends, Harry. Just remember that if I’m not over the top reactive to your jokes or anything, it isn’t because I don’t think you’re funny, or that I don’t like you. I’m just… like that. You know?” The hope was that he would get it. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings at all. “I’m only really somewhat loud around people I know exceptionally well. My behavior at work isn’t personal.”

Harry nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her words. Friends. That was a start, right? That was something he could work with. He'd been so caught up in his own feelings and insecurities that he hadn't stopped to consider that maybe she just wasn't the type to be that way. He was used to women laughing at his jokes, leaning into him. It was no secret that his humor was half of what got him into people’s beds. Everyone had loved funny man- but Y/N was different. It made sense, really. She was always so calm and collected, even when he was being a dick. Even when she snapped, it took her a bit to get there and she never yelled, only used that sharp tone with him. It was something that he wouldn’t admit aroused him a little bit.

 "Yeah, I get it," he said, smiling softly. "Friends.”

[spacemammal]

How About Breakfast In Bed?

Masterpost

─ ✧ ─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─ ✧ ─

Part 2: Bruce Wayne?

It was a dream. He’d never released the ghosts or revealed his identity. When Superman said he would catch Phantom, Danny had just sat there. Empty. When he realized the crowd and the Justice League were gone and he was standing there alone, he’d just gone home. It had been a month since then. Phantom retired after their declaration. He didn’t want to deal with them on top of everything else. So he gave up.

The Justice League had been gone for a long time. It was over. So why was he still dreaming about it? He continued to lay in bed even though he was awake. Even with his ghost hunting days over, he was still empty. He was still so tired. He dreaded the day ahead, he just wanted to stay here. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of his pillows. They were so warm. They almost made him feel a little better. Maybe he could close his eyes and pretend he was in Batman's warm embrace like he’d been in the dream.

“DANNY!” his mom broke him from his delusions when she called him downstairs. He didn’t want to get up, but what choice did he have? He had to leave the warm embrace of his bed for the cold and cruel air awaiting him. He got ready for the day again. This time, he didn’t bother with picking an outfit or anything. He just shoved on his binder and went in what he slept in.

He didn’t bother getting breakfast either. He just left his room and headed straight out the door to go to school. He hated school even when he didn’t have to fight ghosts in the middle of it. The teachers were still mean, he was still getting bullied, he still had no friends, and his grades were still shit. The classes were so boring. The teachers just yapping on and on about things he didn’t care at all about.

“Mr. Fenton!” Mr. Lancer's yell pulled him from his sleep. When had he fallen asleep? 

“Mr. Fenton, it’s not nap time. You’re 17 for god’s sake. Pull yourself together! Your junior year is the most important year of highschool. Pay attention.” As Lancer finished yelling at him, he heard snickering from behind him. It was Dash. The hypocrite. He knew Dash had never paid attention in class a day in his life. Oh well. He didn’t have the energy to call him out.

The rest of the class was torture. He just couldn’t get himself to absorb any of what Mr. Lancer was saying. Something about a rich guy’s party? A girl named Daisy? He rested his head on his desk. It was cold and he was looking at the messy ground. He hated being there. Sleep was dancing at the edges of his brain and core again when the bell snapped him back to reality. 

He was the last to get up, and starting to leave when Mr. Lancer called after him, “the counselor would like to see you.” Right. They’d gotten a counselor after that ghost had posed as one. 

“Sure.” Danny knew why the counselor wanted to see him. He knew how the discussion would go. 

“You wanted to see me?” Danny feigned ignorance to the topic of the conversation even though it was obvious what this meeting was about. His grades were shit because he wasn’t doing any class work. 

“Yes. Come on in, sit down please.” Her voice was warm and gentle, which suprised him. He’d thought that she would be harsh and give him a lecture about how he’s slacking and needs to get his grades up.

“I’m Ms. Perry.” She gestured for him to sit. He hadn’t realized his feet were still firmly planted in the doorway. 

As he took a seat, he began to examine her office. The room was homey. It smelled like the ground after rain and the lights weren’t harsh. The chairs were plush with a soft floral pattern on them. 

“So, Danny, how have you been feeling lately?” her question sounded far too genuine to be simple small talk, but it didn’t feel like she was pushing for the information. She wasn’t the mean, aged teacher he’d thought would be hired. She was young, probably fresh out of college, and her face showed authentic kindness.

“Oh! I almost forgot, do you want any snacks? I have a ton to choose from.” She pulled out a bin of snacks from under her desk. There were so many, and… he wanted some. When had he gotten so hungry?

 “Sure,” he hesitated, he didn’t even know what he wanted.

 “Can I have.. uhh… juice?” 

 “Of course.” She gave a small, light hearted laugh with the reply, and handed him a capri-sun. 

He left the meeting with the counselor a little confused as he left her office. What had just happened? She had asked him about his home life and hobbies and basically everything but school. He hadn’t had a real conversation like that in a really long time. 

It didn’t really matter though. It’s not like his life would get better. His hope for that died when he realized quitting as Phantom didn’t do anything but let him stop fighting ghosts.

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

“Alright, thank you.” Maddie said as she hung up the phone. 

“Jack dear!” she called out to her husband, who was working on a ghost-hunting invention. 

“Apparently Danny isn’t doing very well right now. The counselor suggested we do something.” 

“Then what should we do?” Jack hollered from behind the machine, not bothering to look up. 

Maddie thought about it. 

“I don’t know.” She really hadn’t the slightest idea what to do. 

“I wonder if a change of scenery would do him good?” he had put down his tools and was peeking past the machine.

“He can’t go to Alecia’s.” she considered, “He hates it down in Arkansas.”  

They both thought about it for another moment. 

“I do have a cousin. I could see if he can take in Danny for a while?” Jack offered. 

“That sounds nice!” With that the conversation was finished and they continued to focus on what really mattered. Their ghost tech!

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

Danny went straight up to his room after school like he’d been doing every day since he retired. He went straight for his bed and let himself sink into it. He could finally breathe. Sometimes it felt like he was suffocating when he was at school or with his parents. It was finally the weekend though. He didn’t have to get out of bed for a while. He just stared at the ceiling. He’d put up those tacky glow in the dark star stickers on there when he was 10. A lot’s changed since then. He didn’t really have the time or energy to study the night sky like he did before the accident. He really missed it though. If only he could turn back time and-

There was a knock on the door.

“Danny?” It was his mom. He pulled his blanket over himself and rolled over, pretending to be asleep. They came in anyway.

“Daniel, we have to talk to you.” his dad nudged his shoulder. The same shoulder he’d shot at just a month before. He hated it when they called him Daniel.

“I don't want to get out of bed.” He wanted them to go away.

“That’s alright sweetheart. We can talk to you from here.” His mom didn’t take the hint and started talking anyway. He didn’t really listen to what she’s saying, but caught some of the words and phrases.

“Blah blah blah, call from the school, blah blah blah, bad grades, blah blah blah, cousin, blah blah blah, Bruce Wayne.”

He stops them at that last bit. “Wait, Bruce Wayne?" That seemed super off topic, even for his parents.

“You need to listen better. Bruce Wayne is your father’s cousin.”

WHAT?! Bruce Wayne? How was that even possible? Danny was trying to wrap his head around this, but failing. This didn’t make any sense. How was Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham, related to his dad, the crazy scientist of Amity Park?

“You’ll be staying with him for a little while. We think it will be good for you. Ok?” 

Oh.

They were pawning him off on someone else so they didn’t have to deal with him. That made a ton more sense. 

“Alright then.” he felt the words leave his mouth.

“We’ve arranged for you to leave in a week.” 

Wow. They really wanted him gone.

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

It was really a strange request.

Bruce’s cousin had gotten in touch with him after all these years. It was strange for multiple reasons. He had only met this relative once when they were small children and he wasn’t asking for money, or fame, or any of the things one would think. He was only asking for Bruce to take care of his son for a few months. The reason they cited was that he was struggling with his grades. Why would the man trust his son to a cousin he hardly knew? 

A normal request to Bruce was for lots of money. A normal request was to leave your child with someone you actually knew and trusted.

The bizarre nature of the favor drew his curiosity so , naturally, he did a full Batman-style background check on the entire family.

It would seem that the couple were scientists specializing in ghost-based study. They were considered irresponsible and conspiracy theorists in their town even after the existence of ghosts was confirmed. They developed anti-ghost weapons and Maddie Fenton had a background in martial arts, but that was about the extent of their ‘battle prowess’ if you could call it that. They had 2 children. Jasmine Fenton, a college student studying psychology, and Daniel Fenton. When he pulled up the kid’s photo, Bruce recognised him as the teenager he’d noticed in the crowd. Something about that day still didn’t feel right to him. He’d made sure to give Clark a lecture after what he had said. He was trying to make people feel at ease, but he could’ve done that while dodging the question instead of speaking on a case that wasn’t closed. 

Bruce was interested in knowing what Daniel was doing with Phantom’s thermos. As well as why he was so injured. Though he now had a suspicion it might be neglect or even abuse. The way his parents were so dismissive of him didn’t exactly inspire confidence. 

Having the boy stay with him could give him more insight into the situation.

“Alfred?”

“What is it, Master Bruce?” 

“Could you prepare a guest room by next week?”

“Yes, but might I ask why, sir?” Alfred’s face showed clear suspicion.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew he would get an earful from his children for this.

“We’ll be housing my cousin’s child for a time.” 

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

Danny didn’t like change very much, and this was all happening so fast. Before he knew it the week was over. At first he had packed to last around 2 weeks, but his parents told him that he’d be staying for the rest of the last month of school and all of summer. So he decided to pack not just essentials but also other things that he just liked. He grabbed his astronomy books, his bass, his notebooks, along with a few other things to keep his mind occupied. He wished that he could pack his bed, but he settled for his blanket and most comfortable pillow. He also made sure to pack his extra binder, first aid kit, and other ‘in case of emergency’ things. This included the Fenton Thermos. He really didn’t want to leave it, but he decided he would need it if it came down to it. All of his things were packed, and he was scheduled to leave in an hour. His room was left without much in it. There wasn’t much in the first place, but it looked even more empty. Especially since his mom made him clean his room earlier in the week in preparation for him leaving. 

He looked over at his bed where a stuffed bear was sitting. Tucker had given it to him when he turned 16. They hadn’t been friends anymore when he’d turned 17. He missed seeing them. He missed being their friend. It dawned on him that he wouldn’t get to see them in the hallways of school anymore. Why was he even upset about going? Nobody liked him in this town even if he wasn’t Phantom. It wasn’t like he was leaving any friends or big relationships behind. The only person he was on good terms with was Jazz, and she’d moved away for college.

“Daniel, let’s get going.” his dad came into the room without knocking. “You wouldn’t want to miss your flight.”

─ ✧ ─

The flight was not the best. He’d been sat in a middle seat next to an asshole who decided to hog up his armrest and invade his personal space. It also didn’t help that Danny hated flying in planes. He could already fly by himself and it made him super uneasy when he wasn’t in control. It made him super airsick.

Luckily he was out of the plane now, so he didn’t have to deal with it anymore. Now he had to figure out how to get to his next location. Mom and dad had said something about someone picking him up, but they were super vague about it. He was just standing in the pick-up zone at the airport, stranded.

“Daniel Wayne?” He was put off by the use of his full name but still turned to face the man who’d said it.

“Yeah, I prefer Danny though.” He tried to keep his tone light but could tell that he still sounded uncomfortable.

“Ah. I will make note of that.” The man was older, maybe in his 60’s, and he was dressed way too fancy for a Saturday afternoon. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne’s butler. I will be escorting you to the manor. Please follow me to the car.”

“Thank you.” Danny tried to make his tone as polite as possible. He didn’t really know rich people etiquette, but he could do his best to not be rude. Alfred led him to a really fancy black car and opened the door for him (which he’d made sure to thank the man for). He said the drive to the house would be around 30 minutes. Luckily he didn’t try to start up any conversations after that. Danny really didn’t want to talk right now. He just had to survive this car ride.

That’s right. He just had to bide his time until he got to the house, then he could go up to his new room and avoid people again. Go back to laying in bed. 

He wanted to be in bed so badly. He didn’t want to meet the Waynes. He didn’t want to leave home. He just wanted to stay in his bed forever. That way he could avoid ghosts, and his problems, and people, and life in general.

He stared out the window, in an attempt to get out of his head. They passed run down warehouses, shady businesses, and apartment buildings that definitely weren’t to code. Slowly the architecture got more stable and clean until they were passing huge gothic style buildings that looked incredibly expensive to maintain. Eventually, the buildings stopped appearing, and nature took it’s place. Not so long after that happened, they reached the overly extravagant gates of the Wayne’s Mansion.

He hadn’t realized just how big their house was until he stood in front of it. He didn’t even want to be here. Why couldn’t Bruce Wayne have picked any other kid to be his charity case of the year?

“Master Bruce isn’t home right now, but his children are here so they will be greeting you in his stead.” Alfred already had his hand on the doorknob, ready to open it.

“Alright” At least he wouldn’t have to deal with meeting Bruce Wayne right now.

─ ✧ ─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─ ✧ ─

Honestly I'm super surprised about how many people like this! thank you so much for the kind words :D It genuinely means a ton to me

Thank you for reading! I haven't started working on the next chapter yet, but I'll get it out as soon as I can! :)

[goldfades]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[merakiui]

something something eldritch monster azul thoughts.

he’s your childhood friend. you meet him in the woods, huddled in the darkness of a burrow beneath an ancient tree, its roots grotesquely gnarled. it’s pitch-black inside, and when you reach in hoping to find a cute bunny or maybe even a family of frogs you don’t expect the darkness to reach back. it coils around your wrist, an obsidian appendage that’s sticky and frigid to the touch. you gasp and the darkness quickly retreats.

“don’t go! please don’t go. i’m sorry if i scared you,” you say, feeling around for the creature and mourning its disappearance. “i won’t hurt you. come back…” two brilliant blue eyes open to watch you, quietly assessing whether you’re friend or foe.

hesitantly, almost shyly, the tentacle creeps back, searching out your arm. it curls between your fingers, a soft human hand. when you pull, a boy your age comes out from the darkness, covered in grime and cobwebs. you offer him your coat because he isn’t wearing anything, and it’s a cold autumn day. he blinks at you, one eye at a time. you ask him what his name is, but he doesn’t seem to have one. he doesn’t speak, but he understands you when he nods or shakes his head in response to some of your curious questions.

you bring him home, ask your parents if you can keep him. you’ve always wanted to live with a friend. your parents are horrified. “where did you find this boy?” they ask, wrapping him up in a blanket, hurrying to find clothes for him, prepare him some food, get him into the bath. “where are his parents?” you tell them he doesn’t have any—that’s what he told you, or that’s what you’re assuming. your parents think this boy might be lost. they decide to make missing posters for him, ask around the neighborhood, file reports. until someone claims him, he can stay.

you’re ecstatic, happily pulling him all throughout the house to show him around. “this is my room. this is my favorite plushie. you can’t have her, though. she sleeps with me. oh, but you can have this one! it’s an octopus. it’s blue like your eyes. take it.” his arms are full of things you’re giving him. expressionless, he allows you to bring him deeper into the weavings of your life. you share parts of yourself with him. you’re effortlessly kind. a warm presence. he decides he likes you.

later that night, while he sleeps curled on the floor in soft, sea-print pajamas, you dream of the shadow in the burrow. when you ask the darkness its name, it replies: azul.

no one comes forward with any information. days turn into months and then years. you grow up alongside each other. eventually azul learns to speak, to write, to do all the things you can do. his appetite is voracious. you used to giggle when he’d tear into his meals with both hands. it wasn’t until he learned how to feel shame, how to have manners, that he began to utilize his utensils, take small, mindful bites, tamp down his ravenous urges. you learn a lot about him when you sleep. you dream of that burrow a lot, about what resides in it.

he accompanies you to school. the children there make fun of him because he’s weird and different. not like the rest. because he blinks strangely and because he always smells like wet earth and because he acts funny and because he clings to you so much it’s codependent (“ooohh,” the bullies jeer, “(name)’s got a boooooyfriend!” and you fluster like it’s something to be ashamed of—like he’s something to be ashamed of). he wants them all dead, but before he can carry out a swift, spine-snapping execution you’re stopping him. “azul!” you shout, rushing over to him, heaving out great gasps. you’re crying. big globs of salt in your eyes. he can smell it, your fear, your sadness, your panic. very human scents. “stop! you can’t!”

he turns slowly. blood flecks his cheeks and knuckles from where he kicked and punched, from the stone he retrieved in the courtyard, its rough tip poised to gouge out an eye. the bullies look up at him in horror. it’s a different fear from yours. they’re terrified of him. you’re terrified for him.

it’s the first and final time he resorts to violence. the teachers give him an earful. your parents apologize profusely, insist he isn’t usually like this, are willing to compromise with the families of those rotten children, but then they don’t truly know azul. they’re going to make an effort to discipline him better, they say. he’s a good child. honest.

he sits outside the principal’s office, idly swinging his legs.

after that day, the bullies never mess with him again. after that day, he learns how to smile.

- - -

the years trickle by. azul has lived as a human so long that he’s forgotten what he really is. he’s not very strange anymore. he’s learned how to be mostly human, how to camouflage monstrosity with humanity. everything he knows, he’s learned from you.

he doesn’t know how old he is. when you were little, you said he could be your age. he looked it. you told him, “since you don’t know when your birthday is, you can share mine.” so every year that he’s spent with you, he’s aged just like you. the both of you are sixteen when he plants his lips on yours. you’re being naughty, sneakily watching an r18 film. he watches the actors as they wrap around each other. it’s more than an embrace. he asks you what that is, what it means, and you tell him it’s because they love each other. sex is what you do when you love someone.

so he kisses you. it’s just innocent curiosity, a peck that lasts a little too long. you fall backwards on the sofa, shocked, your fingers brushing your mouth, as if you can still feel him there.

“what…was that for?”

“love,” he replies. “isn’t that how it’s done?”

“do you love me, azul?”

“like the humans on TV?”

“that’s different. that’s…romantic. intimate. y-you know…”

he doesn’t.

“then what is this?” he points to his mouth and then yours. “what are we?”

“we’re friends.”

he feels it two years later, when you bring your first boyfriend home and it’s made abundantly clear what he is and what that boy is. he learns there is an important distinction between boyfriend and a boy who is a friend. he’s the latter.

he snoops through your laundry, searching for the ones that smell like that boy. you yell at him, fiercely embarrassed. you smell like him more and more every day. when he was little, he’d climb into your bed for warmth and you’d allow it. not so much anymore now. now you share your bed with another. you tell him he can’t just go through your things or snoop around your room, especially your laundry! it’s not right. he’s your friend. he’s like family to you. azul thinks all of these distinctions are so troublesome.

your boyfriend is troublesome.

- - -

he’s hungry. he needs to eat more to keep his energy up. the human doctors told him it’s because he’s growing. he needs something fleshy, though. he needs a pulsing heart between his teeth, warm, moist gore spattering his maw. he’s not sure what he’s doing when he stands over the mangled corpse on the side of the road, backdropped by towering trees. it’s an unlucky deer. freshly hit. he’s hungry.

so he eats.

azul feels whole when he’s with you, serene, like the world is one piece and all is well. he lies on the grass beside you, peering up at fluffy cumulus clouds. the sky is so blue. “are you going to marry him?” he asks suddenly, and you turn to look at him, utterly baffled.

“n-no way. i’m too young for marriage. b-besides, that’s something you do when you’re really in love.”

“then are you really in love with him?”

“i like him.” you prop yourself up on your elbow and poke his cheek. “we need to get you someone, zuzu. then you’ll understand.”

he highly doubts that.

years ago, he snuffed the violent tempest raging within him for calm seas. gentle. tender. humans like those traits. he wants to be an ideal human for you. it’s harder than he thought. lots of energy.

for you, he’ll do it.

for you, he’ll do anything.

- - -

he stands in the doorway, watching you like you’re one of the humans on TV. he remembers the movie. sex. that’s what you do when you love someone. you told him that. if you love him, why are you also loving someone else?

he still doesn’t understand the complexities of love. his thinking is black-and-white. animalistic instinct. logic that borders survival.

you’re horrified. you yank sheets up and over yourself and your boyfriend, squawk at him to get out, toss a pillow his way. it lands at his feet. he thinks fondly of throwing your boyfriend against the wall and listening to his skull crack.

he leaves. the door shuts behind him.

- - -

“if i was a monster, would you still like me?” he asked once, while you were relaxing on the beach. a vacation to a warmer place in the middle of winter. like migration.

“where’s this coming from?” you peek at him from over the mound of a sandcastle. he digs his feet into the grit, feels it cake between his toes.

“would you?” he presses, pushing deeper until a crab breaks the surface and skitters away. he tracks its frantic departure with his eyes.

“you’re not a monster.”

“but what if i was? pretend for just a moment.”

you stop patting the sand. the misshapen castle is on the verge of collapse. a quaint sea breeze blows between the both of you.

“i’ll always love you, azul. even if you’re a monster.”

“do you promise?”

“i promise.”

you smile at him, and the tension breaks. he allows you to bury his lower half in the sand.

did you mean it? he wants to ask every day after that one. will you really love me when i’m a monster?

- - -

there’s blood everywhere.

at first, you think a bear ripped your boyfriend apart. trampled the campsite and tore him from his tent, all while you were off gathering twigs and sticks for kindling. but it’s not a bear.

you have to choke back your vomit. the smell is so strong it sticks and cloys in your nostrils, on your person. the gruesome scene is burned onto your eyes, your brain. you’re never going to forget this.

there’s a monster in the middle of the campsite. a writhing mass of black. you dry heave; bile climbs up your throat, muffles your scream. you swallow it even though it burns.

the creature turns slowly. it’s…an octopus? you’re not sure what it is, but it’s reaching for you.

you think you should run. it’s going to come after you next. it’s going to kill you, tear you to pieces, feast on the meat of your corpse. it will be a painful death punctuated with sheer agony.

a tentacle wraps gently around your wrist. you’re brought back to that day in the woods, where you pulled a little boy out from his burrow. you remember the dreams, the voice, the shadow. you remember.

“you promised,” he says, and he sounds so hurt. so sad.

“azul…?”

he’s holding you with the only tentacle that isn’t stained red with blood. the only one that’s clean.

“do you love me?” he asks, and the answer sticks in your throat. your boyfriend is in tatters around you, and this creature—the one responsible—is asking if you love him.

you can’t speak, so instead you gather him in your arms and hug him tightly. he’s tense, afraid. you cling to him so he won’t run away.

“of course i do,” you say around a heartbroken sob. you’re also scared and he knows this, but still you show him kindness. you’ve always been so forgiving. “i will always love you. i don’t care what you are. you’re my azul.”

feebly, not wanting to hurt you, he wraps himself around you, every cold, sticky limb. he anchors himself to your warmth just like he did the first day you met.

love is a beautiful, confounding feeling. but for the moment he thinks he understands it.

my azul.

he couldn’t be anything else.

[gojosconsort]

Saw the requests are open and thought I’d drop something just a tad bit self indulgent🙂. Sukuna, in like a school au, 18 year old. Girl is very timid, and the most sensitive motherfucker ever. Very insecure and anxious. Something that doesn’t really match Sukuna’s personality, his words come out harsh or he seems cold most of the time. He is pushy, he is just how you write him, I guess¿?,. He really loves reader tho. He sometimes gets too frustrated by the reader’s reaction to his needs (ikyk), she’s the type to go home and cry because he said something harsh that he seems to find so normal, but he can figure her out, he knows he made her sad, so how will he react? Things like that.. reader also loves him, but he makes it really hard to stay with him, maybe she decides to break up with him? You write him real good, enjoy your writing so much, I tried being specific with the request but to summarise it angst because Sukuna is an ass but just can’t be away from reader:)))

SUKUNA’S FRAGILE GIRL ♡ // HEADCANONS

⁀➷ CONTENT. you’re the shy, anxious girl who somehow caught sukuna’s eye— he’s the school’s untouchable king but he loves you in his own way. problem is, his harshness keeps breaking you.

♡ PAIRING. afab!reader x school-tyrant!sukuna (both legal age)

♡ WARNINGS. mdni. angst, emotional distress, toxic relationship, harsh language, bullying tendencies, possessiveness, implied needs, but nothing graphic, kinda breakup, gaslighting vibes, sukuna being an asshole but soft in his own way

♡ AUTHOR’S NOTE. ohhh not typical what i’d write but i tried and hope u like it! ty for being so specific with the request, that helps A LOT <3

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who’s the guy everyone avoids—built like a tank, tattoos creeping up his neck even in this dumb uniform, and a glare that could kill. you’re the opposite—timid, always fidgeting, voice barely above a whisper. he spots you dropping your books in the hall one day and instead of walking by like everyone else, he picks them up, shoving them at you with a gruff, “watch it, brat.” you mumble a thank you, and he smirks—because something about you sticks in his head.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t ask you out—he just decides you’re his girlfriend. corners you after class, leaning against the wall, “you’re with me now, got it? don’t waste my time saying no.” you’re too scared to argue, nodding even though your stomach’s in knots. he’s pushy from the jump—grabs your wrist to drag you to his spot under the bleachers, snaps at you to stop “acting so damn nervous” around him. you love him, though—his rough attention feels like a spotlight, even if it burns.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t get why you’re so sensitive—says shit like, “quit looking so pathetic all the time,” when you flinch at his tone, or “what, you gonna cry over that?” when he ditches you to hang with his boys. you do cry, though—lock yourself in your room after school, sobbing into your pillow because his words cut deep, and he doesn’t even seem to care. he’s cold, harsh, like it’s nothing to him, but you can’t stop replaying it, wondering what you did wrong.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who gets frustrated with your hesitance—leans in close one day behind the gym, voice low, “you’re mine, so fuckin’ act like it—stop freezing up.” he wants more—hands on you, lips crashing into yours, rough and demanding—but you’re a jittery mess, too anxious to keep up. he pulls back, pissed, “what’s your problem? i’m not gonna wait forever.” you stammer an apology, but he storms off, leaving you there, heart pounding, tears prickling your eyes.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who knows he fucked up—he sees it in the way you avoid his gaze the next day, how your hands tremble when he’s near. you go home and cry again, harder this time, because you love him but he makes it so damn hard. he texts you late that night, blunt as ever, “you pissed at me or what?” you don’t reply, and it eats at him—he’s not dumb, he can tell you’re hurting, but he’s shit at saying sorry. instead, he shows up at your window, shouting, “open up, dumbass—i’m not leaving.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who climbs in when you let him, scowls and sharp edges, but there’s something softer in his eyes. “you’re too fuckin’ fragile, y’know that?” he mutters, sitting on your bed next to you. you snap—voice shaky but firm—“i can’t keep doing this, ‘kuna. you’re mean.” he freezes, jaw tight, then grabs your wrist, not rough this time, just desperate, “you’re not breaking up with me. i’ll figure this shit out before you’re gone.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t apologize outright—he’s too proud—but he tries in his own way. starts sitting closer in class, not saying much, just watching you like he’s afraid you’ll bolt. when he’s horny and pushy again, he catches himself mid-snap, grumbling, “fuck, fine—tell me if it’s too much, alright?” it’s not perfect—he still calls you “weak” or “brat” when you tear up—but he’s learning, and you see it. you stay, because even when he’s an ass, you can’t shake how much he means to you.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who fucks up big one day—yells at you in front of his friends after you flinch at his grip, “stop being such a damn baby!” you don’t cry there—you just turn and walk away, done. that night, you text him, “i can’t anymore. we’re over.” he reads it, doesn’t reply, but an hour later he’s at your door, banging loud enough to wake your parents, “open the fuckin’ door—i’m not losing you over this shit.” you let him in, tears streaming, and he’s pissed but wrecked too, “you’re mine, okay? i’ll fix it—just don’t go.”

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who doesn’t let you leave—not really. he’s still harsh, still sukuna, but he holds you tight that night, muttering into your hair, “i’m an asshole, yeah, i get it—just don’t fuckin’ run.” you’re a mess, sobbing into his chest, but you don’t push him away because you love him too, even if it’s a jagged kind of love. he kisses you rough, needy, and it’s not soft or sweet, but it’s his way of saying he’s not letting go.

BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA who wakes up the next morning after your breakdown next to you in your bed and stays there, staring at the ceiling, muttering to himself, “fuck, i’m such a dick.” when you stir, he’s awkward as hell, brushing your hair back with a clumsy hand, “you good, brat? no more crying, alright?” it’s not poetry, but it’s him and you decide to stay once more, caught between his cruelty and his care, and he’s too hooked to ever walk away.

————— ୨୧ —————

⁀➷ masterlist

[sturnslutz]

introducing... teenagedirtbag!matt and innocent!reader

use of y/n a couple times.

matt had always been one to ignore girls. not that he didn’t like them, but because he truly just didn’t want them. his “bad boy” persona really lures girls in, and he’s learned that over the years.

his bad rep started off when he was only a young boy, not paying attention in class, and snapping back at teachers which caused multiple suspensions, detentions, and even one expulsion.

him getting expelled from full circle high school in somerville really turned his family’s life around. his brothers, chris and nick, were the complete opposite of him, but because he got switched, they had to too.

you weren't a very social person, but you weren't super shy. you could go and ask someone a question if you were lost, but you couldn't tell someone what they did wrong, even if it hurts you.

that's what some people adored about you, that you're so innocent. so pure. that's what people base you off of, and build on it.

"oh yeah, angel? she's so nice!" the amount of times you have heard that about you. people even named you angel, which you weren't mad about, but no one really called you by your actual name anymore.

somerville high was a dreading place for you. toxic jocks, wannabe pick me girls who bully the quiet kids when no doubt, they're 10x smarter. who even cares about grades anymore? high school social pyramids are based on how much you sleep with people and if you take drugs, which automatically puts you at a "higher level."

unfortunately, you were right in the middle. you smoked a couple times, but it wasn't a big thing. and obviously, you haven't hooked up with anyone, not even holding hands.

it was like sexual experiences were resistant to you no matter how much you craved it. you were literally the face of the quote, "perverted bitch with an angelic face."

others have told you that you had a sort of, "angelic presence" about you. like you were this breath of fresh air everyone desperately craved for, and it came naturally to you.

you were in math class, sitting in the back of the class with your tight clothes that hugged your curves perfectly, with an airpod in. you still paid attention to whatever the teacher was talking about, but she was currently at her desk allowing you guys to have a little break, or so she calls it. a certain announcement makes you take your headphone out.

"next class we're having a new student come into our class by the name of matthew sturniolo. i expect you all to treat him with kindness and respect."

matthew sturniolo? that sounded super familiar.

you looked down at your phone, opening up instagram and searching through your followers.

@matthew.sturniolo

he followed you already. and you followed him back.

he had liked a couple of your posts and stories, but you guys have never talked. he was so fine, and he had this dark vibe about him that had you soaked.

you would never admit it, but your thighs clenched a couple times when looking at his pics. you can't be thinking like this. you turn off your phone, putting your airpod in, blasting your music, rubbing your eyes to get those thoughts out of head.

you didn't even know what "thoughts" they actually were. you've never watched porn or anything, or even actually touched yourself properly. you just knew that you had a growing ache in between your legs.

the next day came faster than you had thought. upon remembering that matt would be arriving, you dressed in one of your best outfits, that was simple but showed everything that needed to be shown, perfectly.

you had sat in your seat, feet tapping against the ground repeatedly as you fiddled your thumbs in your lap. you turned around everytime someone walked in, and finally he walked in.

he walked so calmly and you both made eye contact immediately to which you turned around and acted cool. or so you thought.

you hadn't seen, but matt smirked softly as he took a seat a couple rows up next to some guy named jack who you've talked to a couple times. they immediately spark up a conversation, probably having met earlier and already became friends.

class had started, and your teacher kept talking. you had forgot a vital rule in her class, assigned seats. "hello matthew, welcome to the class. i hope everyone treats you with kindness and you make your time here productive. unfortunately, we do have assigned seats, and i have you seated next to, y/n. she's in the back over there."

she points to you and you don't necessarily notice as you're looking down at your phone. "y/n." you look up to the sound of your name being called a bit sternly, and see your teacher and a couple pairs of eyes looking at you, and a certain matt who was grabbing his bag.

"yes?" "matthew is coming to sit next to you." your eyes widen a bit as you make eye contact with him again as he walks towards you, smirking at you softly. you nod to the teacher and pull your eyes away from matt, who's now sitting next to you.

"sup." he slumps down next to you, your knees hitting each other. "hi." you respond, no more than a whisper. he nods and goes on his phone, the both of your guys' knees still rested on each other.

"we follow each other on insta right?" he says as he pulls your profile up, a sudden wave of embarrassment flowing through you as he clicks through your highlight of yourself, lingering a bit too long on the few bikini pics or pajama pics.

"mhm." you hum. he chuckles softly, nodding again. "nice." he puts his phone away, and his eyes rake over your body. you pay no attention to it as you tap on your computer a couple times to start working on the assignment.

"wanna hangout later?" you almost thought you were dreaming. "w-what?" you look over at him, your eyes meeting. "hangout. later. i'll pick you up and we can jus' go to the park or somethin'. whatever you wanna do. not a date though. jus' wan' a pretty girl to show me her favorite spots."

he had a certain tone to his last words, "favorite spots" which gave you a hint of something else besides what he was saying, a hidden intent in his words. this caused a shiver through you before you nod. "um, yeah sure. here." you hand him your phone for him to put his number in, and he does, quickly texting himself before taking his phone out, texting you back and saving your contact.

"'ight. i'll pick you up later, yeah?" "yeah, sure."

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 comment to be added or removed.

[kilojulietsierra]

Baby, It's Alright - Chapter Two

(Dr. Robby x Fem!Reader)

A little later than I promised but here it is!

Summary: Reader gets a sort of second date with Robby that sort of doesn't go the way she planned. It sort of goes better...

TW: all my content is considered 18+, age gap, car accident but everyone is fine, medical inaccuracies, DIY medicine = kids don't try this at home, sort of slow burn sorry, quiet flirting, male friendship, includes Dr Jack Abbot x nurse wife!OFC, Jack and Sam are INVESTED, Reader is nervous and twitterpated, Robby is falling and he's working through that ok!

This is a part of my "Save Me From Myself" series, if you feel so inclined you can check that out! Love you all for the love!

Read Chapter One here if you missed it!

~~~~~

Sam had invited you out for coffee after your shift and once you had found a table she asked the question you had been expecting for a week. "So, how are you feeling about your sexy, older, ER doc crush now?"

"Do you have to say it that way?" You supposed you should be grateful she'd let you go this long without bringing it up. It had given you time to think.

"Yes," She smiled, "I'm honestly having fun torturing you both. Stop avoiding the question."

You thought for a minute while you picked at your muffin, "Is it weird?" You were aware it was a vague yet somehow loaded question.

Sam still smiled, a little softer, as she reached up to let her bun down, "I don't think I can answer that for you." She paused to take a sip of her coffee and then continued. "What I can tell you is that when I first got to spend some time with Jack, we didn't know anything about each other, but, we sat and ate together and I knew that I could sit at a shitty picnic table and eat shitty pizza with him anywhere in the world and be perfectly happy."

You thought about what she had said, thought about dinner and the chat you had with Robby after.

Across rhe table from you Sam chuckled, "You realize you don't even have to say it right? It's written all over your face."

~~~~~

Robby blinked, snapped out of his thoughts, as his earbuds read out, "Incoming call from: Sam Abbot"

"Good morning Mrs. Abbot."

"Good morning Dr. Robinavitch. You on your way to work?"

"Mhmm, you've got three blocks."

She got right to the point, "If I told you Y/N was interested in seeing you again, what would you say?"

Robby scoffed, "I'd ask what you're bribing her with."

"Robby I swear to God, do you like her or not?"

"I don't know that it's that easy Sam."

"Because you're making it complicated."

"It is what I do best."

"You should have seen her face this morning when I brought you up." When that doesn't get a response out of him she continues, "I knew it! You big chicken, just admit you would like to see her again."

"I don't know Sam."

Something in his tone sobers Sam up a little bit, "Ok, I'm not bullying you,"

"You sure?" He interrupted, only half teasing.

"Shut up. Look, she liked meeting you at the house the other night and I think she really likes you. So, I won't beat you up about it, but will you at least promise me you'll think about it? You might be pleasantly surprised."

Robby was quiet for most of the next block, "Ok, I will think about it. I am thinking about it."

Sam's smile was evident in her voice, "Ok, good. I'm glad. Have a good day at work, okay."

Robby couldn't help but smile with her, "I will, I'll make sure Jack leaves on time."

~~~~

As soon as Robby got inside the the ED Dana met him at the counter, "So, haven't seen you, how'd dinner go with the VA cutie go?"

Robby glared at Jack as he gathered up his stuff. Jack just glared right back.

"Oh please," Dana scoffed, "Don't look at him, he's like trying to get gossip out of a KGB agent."

Robby throws another glance at Jack who just shrugs and slaps him on the back on his way out. When he turns back to Dana he sighs, "Ok, what did Sam tell you?"

"Nothing much, just talked to her quick the other day and she said they had you two over for dinner and that Y/N had a good time."

Suddenly, he was already exhausted and he had only just got to work, "Is there anyway for me avoid this conversation?" The look she gives him says it all. "Dinner was... fine, actually no dinner was good. She is everything Sam said she was and more."

Dana softened, "But?"

He sighs and scratches at his beard as he leans his elbows on the counter, "She's so young."

With an arched brow, "Robby, she's a grown woman, and from what I hear she's a grown woman that likes what she sees."

~~~~~

Robby heard the access door open, but he didn't turn. DIdn't need to.

"At least you're on this side of the rail this time."

Robby scoffed, "Look who's talking."

Jack nodded, "Came to tell you to go home." He stepped up to the rail and leaned his forearms over the top. "What're you doin' up here anyway?"

His colleague didn't answer right away, but Jack waited him out. "Needed some quiet, time to think about some things."

"Would one of those things happen to be a pretty, little nurse over at the VA?"

"That's your shtick brother." Robby gave him a side eye.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle, "Well that wasn't a no." He turned his head and gave Robby a look, "C'mon, tell me what's up. You got," He turned his wrist over, "Five minute before my shift starts."

"You a counselor now?" Robby scoffed.

"Four minutes, 50 seconds."

"Fuck me, you really want to talk about this?"

"Not especially, but we're gonna." He stood up and turned around to lean back against the rail, "And I really only have it in me to say this once, so listen."

Robby grumbled, but did not interrupt.

"I know the age thing is messing with you, but I think you're makin' a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. You know, Sam fell for a... a 29 year old soldier with a six pack and God complex. Now, she's married to a 46 year old doctor with fucking grey hair, frown lines, PTSD and a shitty schedule. She still loves me, and yeah shut up, God knows why sometimes. But look brother, she's the only thing that keeps me above ground on the really bad days."

After a deep breath Robby shook his head, "Still different. She wouldn't be getting any of the good years, and Jesus I feel old just thinking about it." He laughed at himself.

Jack laughed a little, at Robby as much as at himself, "I mean, you're older than me." He takes the jab because he can't help himself, "But, for what it's worth, sometimes yeah, you're goin' to feel old as fuck, but most the time the age difference thing isn't even a factor." He paused and turned back around, hands gripped the railing as he leaned into it. "Then there's sometimes man where she's goin' make you feel twenty years old again, ten feet tall and fucking bulletproof." He chuckled, "Plus, look at it this way, now you got twenty, thirty years experience to put behind it."

"Oh fuck off." Jack laughed again, "C'mon, times up, otherwise I'm goin' to bill you." He pushed back from the railing.

"Sam, she's your once in a lifetime man." Robby's voice sounded tight. "Doesn't happen every day."

Stopped two steps away Jack turned back, hands in his pockets, and nodded, "You ever think Y/N might be yours?"

~~~~~~

When Sam had texted you last week that Robby was interested in seeing you again your initial reaction had been panic. Dinner at Jack and Sam's had been fun, easy even. Then you stopped and thought about going on a real, actual date, just you and Robby.

For whatever reason, the thought scared you, like maybe you weren't quite ready for that just yet. You wanted to see him again, you knew that for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like that first night had been less of a date and more of a dinner with friends.

Sam had teased you, a little, "Not that we mind, but you are going to have to take the training wheels off at some point."

She had agreed though and that was how you found yourself in Sam's SUV on your way to lunch. Jack driving and Robby up front with him, Sam next to you currently leaned over the center console typing in the restaraunt address into the GPS screen.

"Would you please, sit your ass back down?" Jack chided his wife with a smile. "I know where we're going."

You stifled a laugh as Sam caught your gaze and rolled her eyes as she settled back into her seat and buckled her seat belt. "So bossy."

From where you sat you could see the look they gave each other in the rearview mirror. You also saw the moment, halfway through an intersection, when Jacks eyes jumped the left.

"Mother fuck..." He didn't even get out the rest of the word before the car that had blown through the stoplight slammed into the SUV.

Tires squealed and you could hear the creak and crunch of metal on metal over the ringing in your ears as the airbags deployed.

~~~~~

"Sam, baby you okay?"

"Yeah! I'm fine."

"Y/N, you okay?"

Everything was fuzzy, your ears still rang and this time it was Robby calling back to you, "Y/N, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm, I'm okay."

As your vision cleared you heard a repeated pop and hiss, pop and hiss. Jack had pulled out his knife and was popping the airbags on the driver side of the SUV. You flinched when your door opened, but a warm hand grabbed your wrist and squeezed.

"Hey," Robby spoke calmly, "Cover your eyes for me." Another pop and hiss and the side curtain airbag between you and him deflated. "There we go. Hey, look at me. Anything hurt?" When you didn't answer right away he ducked his head to catch your eye, "Does anything hurt?" His eyes scanned you head to toe and he gave you a little nod when you told him nothing hurt. "Ok, good watch my finger for me. Perfect." His hands moved to take each of yours, "Squeeze for me. Good. Move your feet?" He gave a smile and a nod, "Ok, you're ok, c'mon. I got you."

"Robby!" Jacks voice carried from the other side of the SUV, "I got three over here. Driver's unresponsive!"

Robby helped you out and away from the Tahoe where it had come to rest in corner of the intersection.

"Sam, grab a kit!"

You watched Robby disappear around the SUV and you could hear Sam behind you. When you turn she had a phone pressed to her ear as she opened the back hatch.

"Intersection of South Highland and Liberty. MVC in the southound lane, three vehicles involved." She drug a backpack out of the back, "We are going to need EMS, yes ma'am. Yes ma'am. Expect multiple injuries. My name is Samantha Abbot. Yes ma'am."

Head still fuzzy you watched as she jogged towards the car that had hit you, the whole front end completely mangled. After a second your instinct kicked in and you followed after her.

Jack didn't even look over his shoulder as Sam came up behind him, "Driver is unresponsive to pain, pupils are pinned. Grab me the narcan."

You took Sam's lead and went to Robby to see what you could do to help. He looked up at you briefly, "Check her in the back. If shes's ok get her over to the sidewalk. Then come back, grab me one of the kits out of the Tahoe on your way. Should be a backpack, probably camo or black."

Grateful for the direction you did as he said and came back with a black backpack moments later. "Got it."

"Ok perfect." He glanced at the bag, "That big front pocket should be some 4x4 gauze, grab me that and then can you hold C-spine for me?"

You crawled in the backseat and supported the passengers head and neck from behind.

"Jack, you got a collar?" Robby called out across the car. "Looks like the passenger went head versus windshield."

Sam came jogging back, "Other car is fine, minor lacs and bag burn, a little spooked. I can hear EMS. What you need?"

"Grab the collar out of the pelican case, give it to Robby." Jack caught the driver by the shoulders as he sat bolt up right with a gasp. "Welcome back. What did you take?" When he got no answer he made a fist and rubbed it over his sternum, "Focus buddy. You were in a car accident, do you remember what happened? Can you tell me what you took?"

The cops get there first and apparently one of them recognized Jack and Robby, "Don't you guys ever take a day off?"

Robby scoffed, "This was supposed to be my day off."

"Just can't help it." Jack laughed as EMTs arrived and made their way over, "Overdose here, came around with three of narcan, this is the driver. Robby has the worst, looks like he's banged up pretty good, no seat belt. Backseat passenger, and passengers in the third car they're all minor lacs, contusions, abrasians."

"What about the Tahoe?" Jack grimmaced, "That's us, we're all good, just clipped the front quarter panel when they ran the light."

A cop looked around, "RP?"

Jack pointed to Sam, "My wife, Samantha, called it in on my phone."

"Looks like you need checked out too man." The cop pointed at a gash on Jacks arm from the broken glass, but he just waved it off.

Another set of EMTs ushered you out of the backseat so they could get to the passenger. One of them taking over holding traction and you moved to the side. Out of the way. You couldn't help but think, through the pounding headache, that this was not how this afternoon was supposed to go.

~~~~~

After you had talked to one of the cops, told them the little bit you could, you headed back towards the Tahoe to grab your purse. The cops said the vehicles would all be towed.

When you get back to the SUV you find Sam and Jack at the back, the hatch open and Jack sitting in the back. His left foot is braced on the bumper, his arm rested over his knee while his wife sutured the small gash on his forearm.

"Good, make sure to finish it with a..."

Sam froze and her eyes snapped up to Jacks with a scowl.

"Habit, sorry, just habit." He gave her a smile and his right thumb stroked over her hip where he had his right hand resting while she worked on him.

When an EMT comes back with Robby he took one look at the couple and groaned, "Dude, seriously?"

Jack glanced up at the kid in uniform, "Go get the form."

"SIr, that needs seen by a doctor."

You caught Robby's chuckle from where he sood just behind you.

"I am a doctor," Jack kept his tone flat, "I've seen it. She'll do a better job than wherever you would take me anyway. Go get the form."

Brow furrowed you turn to Robby, "He's really not going to go to the hospital?"

He gave you a little grin, "Have you ever seen and ER doctor actually go to the hospital?" He laughs, "If he can't do it himself, she does it. Nothing new."

Not that you doubt your boss, she's a bad ass nurse, but, "She's not a doctor, what if it was something serious that she's never done before?"

"He talks her through it." He gives you a wink that makes you forget about the accident for a second. "I'm still not convicned she hasn't removed his appendix just to see if she could." He lightened the mood a little bit and then his eyes softened as they settled on your face. "How's your head feel now?"

Robby reached up and brushed a thumb around the edge of the abrasion on your forehead. The burn from the side curtain airbags. Your eyes closed of their own accord at his gentle touch, "Hurts."

His thumb moved low to trace under the apple of your cheek where the skin was also raw and tender, "Adrenaline is starting to wear off."

Jack spoke up, his eyes trained on the knot his wife tied in his suture. "Take her home. We'll have to wait for the wrecker."

Robby gave you a nod and a soft smile, "Let's grab your stuff."

~~~~~

Later, while they're watching the wrecker drag her Tahoe with it's mangled front end onto the flatbed, Jack wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders and gave her a squeeze, "Sorry about your car baby." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

Sam sighed deep, and rested her head on his shoulder, "Just glad it wasn't worse." She turned to look him up and down, "Sure you're ok?" Focusing on the tiny laceration on his temple she'd glued, the dressing on his forearm and the way his bad shoulder dipped just a little lower than the other.

"I'm fine." He looked her in the eye and gave her a nod, "Glad it was me not you."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't do that." Sam smiled carefully, and then chuckled a bit. "Here," She held up the dog tags she'd pulled off the rearview mirror, "Want these? Old times sake?"

Jack cracked a smile and took his old dog tags from her, a reminder from a lifetime ago. "I've got a set already." He gave her a wink as he bounced the tags and chain in his palm a couple times, thinking fondly about the old set of hers always hanging in his truck. "Here." He smiled wider as he slipped the chain around her neck, moved her hair out of the way and then tugged on the collar of her shirt so he could drop the tags inside.

Sam's eyes never left his and she smirked, "You think you're cute don't you?"

He pursed his lips with a shrug, "Married me didn't you?"

She let him kiss her on the forehead as she hummed skeptically.

"C'mon," He whispered against her brow and gave her one more kiss, "We'll go get somethin' to eat, guess we'll Uber to the house then we can take the truck to go pick up all our shit."

She ducked out from under his arm and gave him a look, "I'm sorry, we can go get something to eat?"

"Yeah," He gave her a blank look, playing at not understanding why she questioned it, "I'm fucking starving."

"You're hungry? You sent Robby and Y/N home." When he continued to stare she elaborated, "To presumably take it easy, because they were just in a car accident, but we're going to just go to lunch?"

Jack shrugged, "Eh, let Robby take her home, play a little doctor. Do 'em both some good."

Sam's eyes went wide, "Oh my God! You give me shit, but you do want them to get together!" She gave him a calculated shove and shook her head at him.

He kept up the straight face and tugged her back to him, "Not what I said."

~~~~~~

Robby was in your apartment.

You weren't sure what possessed you, where you had found the guts to invite him inside, but the way he had been looking at you made you think that maybe he had wanted you to.

As soon as he was across the threshold of your tiny apartment he pointed to your loveseat, "Go sit down." You did as he said and watched as he washed his hands in your sink and then ran a handful of paper towels under cold water. "Okay if I clean this up a little bit?" He asked as he gently pressed the damp towels to your brow and cheek.

Even though the towels were cool you felt your whole body flush when he touched you. Just barely touches you, as he guides your hand up to hold them in place. "Robby, you don't have to, really."

"Michael, and that's not what I asked." He gave you an easy little grin, trying to pry the cooperation out of you. When you finally give him the nod he had been waiting for that smile gets a fraction bigger. "It's not too bad. Where's your first aid kit? I'll clean it up and put a little dressing on to help it heal faster."

Next thing you knew Michael was sitting on the ottoman in front of you cleaning up and dressing the area where the airbags had irritated your skin. You didn't know what kind of doctor he was on shift, but the way he carefully held you steady with one hand and treated the burns with the other, his touch confident yet gentle, those deep brown eyes focused on the task, you could certainly imagine.

Occasionally though those eyes would flick to yours, and the way he sat with his legs bracketing yours you were close enough to see there was something hiding in those eyes. Just as much as there was something hiding in his careful touch.

You didn't mean to whisper when you spoke up, but you couldn't risk disturbing the moment. "Sorry this afternoon didn't quite turn out the way I had hoped."

He gave you a little smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, "You weren't the one that ODed and ran the red light."

"I know," You watched his hands as he packed up your first aid kit. "But still, I was looking forward to it."

The way he looked at you looked like that might have surprised him. That you had been looking forward to seeing him. The look passed quickly, like he had hidden it away, and then he looked at his watch. "Could still do a late lunch. If you feel up to it."

~~~~~~

Michael had offered to take you out to eat, to make up for the date that you had missed out on, but you had panicked. You didn't like the idea of him leaving your apartment now that you'd seen him move through it. As silly as it sounded, you worried that you wouldn't get him back again if you let him leave now. "Would you be okay if we order something and just ate here?"

For a brief moment he hesitated and appeared to have an array of emotions spin through him before he settled on a nod, "What sounds good?" He had already pulled up the DoorDash app on his phone.

You agree on something and he orders it. The restaraunt is close by so it shouldn't be long. You glance around your tiny, effeciency apartment. Coursework is scattered all over you kitchen table and you suddenly realize your mistake.

Behind you Robby must see you hesitate, "If I had to guess I'd say that table doesn't get used to eat much?"

"Basically never." You admit, embarrassed.

His gaze shifts over the menagarie of books and pens, markers, reports and studies littered with multi-colored sticky notes. He smiles, "Going for your Masters right?"

"Yeah. A decision I regret almost daily." You laughed at your own self-inflicted torture and than catch the look he gives you. A clear invitation to explain yourself. "I was never good at the whole school thing. I'm smart don't get me wrong, but the classes, the lectures, homework, I've always hated it."

"So, why are you doing it?"

"I want to teach, and no the irony is not lost on me."

"Really?"

"That hard to believe?"

"No." He shakes his head, not backpedaling or second guessing his answer just a simple no. "Wouldn't think someone so young would be going that route is all."

This was not a new sentiment. "I love being a nurse, always have, and it's always been what I wanted to do."

"But..." He tilted his head to one side and waited patiently.

You chewed on your lip and thought for a moment, "Take today for example. Sam is an amazing nurse and I've learned so much from her already, but I always get the feeling that she craves the chaos of it. That's why shes where she is. You can watch her work and she thrives in situations like that. Running an ER is exactly where she belongs. Me, I can do the work and yes I do love it, but I've never had that level of desire for it. I don't need it like she does. I've always been more drawn to... cultivating the love for this in others." You pause not meaning to ramble, "I fumbled a little today, until I saw you and Jack and her dive in headfirst and, like right now, I just think that I'm meant more to help others build that foundation, that confidence and competency to go out there and find where they belong in all this. I might not ever be the nurse that can take charge and own the floor when everything is falling apart, but I love the idea that I could help send hundreds or maybe even thousands of nurses into the system that could."

Robby, Michael, just stares at you for a long time.

Your heart suddenly pounds in your ears, "Sorry, I kind of just word vomited all over you." You laugh to try and dispel the awkwardness.

He just shakes his head, "Don't apologize. I think that's incredible." The look he gives you feels like it could stop your heart. Or maybe shock it back into rythym.

A knock at the door ends it there, for now.

"Foods here."

~~~~~

He moves to answer your door like he's done it a dozen times before. Maybe it's just because you haven't moved a muscle from where you were standing when you heard the word 'incredible'. "So, If you don't eat at the table?" He waits patiently for you to answer.

You fidget a little before youdo "This is so embarrassing, but honestly, I usually just eat over the sink, or sometimes i'll sit on the floor and use the ottoman for a table."

The thought hits him without warning, 'I'm too old for this', but then he takes that extra beat to really think about it. He thought about what Jack had said, that sometimes she might make him feel old as fuck, but sometimes...

So, he takes the takeout into your tiny living room and set's it on the oversized footstool.

You give him a little look as he settles down on the floor next to you and leans back against the front of the loveseat. "Do you want me to grab the Icy Hot now or wait until you try to get up?"

Robby laughs, he couldn't help himself, because yes he feels old as fuck, but he likes that you can poke at him, push him, say things that make his cheeks heat up. A part of him can't help but think about what he would do if this was real, if this wasn't just an attempt to salvage a sort of first date that went off the rails. If you were his.

Because if you were his and you'd teased him like that he would want to forget about the takeout and make sure you were both a little sore when you got up off the floor.

~~~~~

After you eat you have to force yourself to tell him you have school work, because you would sit on the floor with him the rest of the night if you could. What Sam had said about shitty pizza and picnic tables flashed through your mind and you smiled.

At the door you ask, "Would you be willing to try lunch again sometime, or dinner? With real furniture."

Michael gives you that crinkly eyed smile and shoves his hands in his pockets, "I'm not opposed to the floor, but I might make you pay for the chiropractor next time."

Your heart was a jackhammer in your chest when he reached up to ghost a finger over the dressing he'd put over the abrasions on your cheek and face.

"Do something for me?" He words are soft, not teasing anymore.

Anything. You have to choke the word down with a nod.

His touch lingers, "Come by tomorrow, so I can see you. Take a look at this." He traced the edge of a bandage, "My shift starts at seven."

~~~~~~

You had never been so nervous to walk into a hospital before in your life as you were when you entered the PTMC Emergency department like Michael had requested. You join the line to wait, but one of the registrars makes eye contact with you and waves you up.

You apologize to everyone that you passed in the line and gave her your name at the window, "I'm supposed to see Dr. Robinavitch." She smiled, "Yes, yes, he told me to keep an eye out for you. All the way to your right, I'll buzz you in."

You nearly run into Jack as you step through the fire doors into the ED. You flinch a little, startled, but you don't think Jack Abbot has been startled by anything in his life.

He does look a little curious though. "Hey, long time no see." He had a long sleeve shirt on under his scrub top, you assumed to cover the bandage and the cut on his arm. The small cut at his temple has a bruise around it now. "What're you doing here? Everything okay?" He ducked his head to look at you, clearly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, fine. Just following doctors orders." You pointed to where Michael stood by the main nurses station.

Jacks eyebrows jump as he nods and adjusts his backpack, then he meets Robby's gaze across the way. They exchange a look you can't read and then Jack turned back to you. "Ok then. Take it easy ok? I'll see you around."

You don't see the smirk on his face as he continued to the door, but Robby does.

You also don't see him immediately pull his phone out of his pocket as he pushes through the door with his shoulder, but Robby does.

"Good morning." You try for bright and cheery and not sick to your stomach with nerves.

Michael smiles, skips over the pleasantries, "How are you feeling?" He reached for your temple while his eyes asked if it was ok.

You nodded, "Little headache this morning, nothing bad. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm just fine." He carefully pulls back the tape holding the dressing down and does a quick exam. "This looks ok. Want me to dress it again?"

Selfishly you nodded, "If you don't mind. Since you made me drive all the way down here."

He gave you a look as he guided you back behind the nurses station and into one of the chairs. "Wait right here, I'll be back."

Just as soft and competent as before he cleaned and treated the burns from the airbag, this time only putting a dressing over the one on your forehead.

He had just finished up when a nurse in grey scrubs came around the corner, "We run out of rooms and hallways already?"

Michael chuckled, "Just a quick check up. Dana this is Y/N, Y/N this is Dana."

Dana's smile doubles as she looks from you to him and then back. "Oh my God, yes! It's so good to meet you." She pulled you into a hug you were not expecting, "Sammy's told me all about you."

You try not to flush, but you can see Michael's cheeks go just a little pink so you know at least you're not alone.

~~~~~

You were barely out the door when Robby's phone goes off and he gets a text from Sam.

'Doctors orders huh? Winky face, winky face. What's you next weekend off? I'll see if I can get you two a Saturday night for your next follow up.'

Robby drops his head and groans as he spins his phone around and around in his fingers.

Dana pops up next to him again, "What's that face for?"

He looks her in the eye, "One of these days, I'm going to push Jack off the roof."

~~~~~

By the time you left Robby's department you were all fixed up again, had his number in your phone and felt like your head was about to spin right off. When your phone vibrated, still in your hand, you nearly dropped it.

A text from Michael Robinavitch, 'If you're free Saturday after next, how would you feel about dinner? Real restaraunt, real furniture."

Your heart raced as you checked your email, silently praying Sam had sent out the schedule for next month, and there it was, a free Saturday night. Nearly shaking you texted him back, 'What if I liked sitting on the floor with you?' You bit your lip and waited.

"Compromise for the couch after dinner?'

~~~~

Chapter Three - Coming Soon!

[hitomisuzuya]

Hey hey Suzuuuu

I hope you can see this request..

It’s a nsfw

I would like to request Wanderer x shy fem reader at Sumeru Akademiya, a new student came in and its reader who is shy to introduce herself. And the teacher told the new student to sit next to Wanderer and Wanderer finds it annoying when he preferred to be alone.

At some time, Wanderer becomes like a bully when he likes to tease and make fun of fem reader only to see her reactions, and it makes him like want to corrupt her innocence.

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut corruption. fingering. bullying. minor degradation.

i want to sincerely thank everyone for letting me take my time and go through requests at my own pace 😭🥺 i feel bad, though.

wanderer only went to class that day because nahida insisted on walking him there. if she hadn't, he would gone right out into the forest to hide and maybe nap in a tree for awhile. a more valuable use of his time, in his opinion, but nahida insisted that the akademiya would be good for him.

he could practically taste your innocence the moment you walked through the lecture hall door. it was pure in a way he hadn't considered still existed. through his sheer annoyance at you being seated next to him (his table was the only empty seat. he could totally see why), he shot you a glare that sent an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"don't think we are going to be friends because you are sitting next to me," he wanted to level with you right here and now. "99% of the time, i won't even be here."

"oh, that's fine," you replied, organizing your books and tucking some hair behind your ear. "i'm not here to make friends. i am here to learn," you pursed your lips, and offered him a soft smile, "my family also has high expectations of me."

"i didn't ask," wanderer replied, crossing his arms and finding a spot to fixate on and stare at for the rest of the class. chances are he knew more things politically than the professor. the asshole who wrote that essay about what he thought happened on tatarasuna sure thought he knew everything.

still though, as much as he hates it, he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye. it was easy for him to tell what kind of girl you are in these moments. you certainly had no issue sitting there, looking pretty while you listened with such foolish intent. you even took notes on the smallest, most useless things.

did you think this knowledge may come in use later?

judging from your explanation earlier, wanderer knew exactly what to capitalize on and take advantage of.

he didn't expect you to have the most interesting reactions when he bullied you.

"it must be so hard for you," wanderer cooed condescendingly, watching you survey the mess he made by knocking all your books out of your hands. "always being a goody goody. doing your homework on time, never missing class," sighing, he kicked one of notebooks out of the way as you reached down to pick it up. "you have be getting crushed under the weight."

"i..i am just so clumsy," you stumbled over your words a little, clearly flustered. wanderer licked his lips. you are just so interesting. he'd just been so mean to you. anyone should've snapped or fought back. but not you. you had the shyest flush on your cheeks. were you enjoying this?

as for you, you are. the more interactions you have with wanderer bullying you, with his enchanting electric eyes and condescending purr to his voice, the wetter you got. it was embarrassing to you. a fact that you had a hard time coming to terms with. at first.

he even used a small gust of anemo to knock your water bottle out of your hand one day, tossing water all over your shirt (it was to see your nipples harden in your bra from cold the water was), but you only looked at him with further adoration.

but his bullying just felt so good. you couldn't possibly tell him that you often fingered yourself until you were a wet, twitching mess at night after classes.

in wanderer's still very twisted mind, corrupting you would be helping you. he didn't even know when he started coming to class everyday, but you were starting to look like you weren't sleeping well. your hands shook while you took tests.

the moment you felt wanderer's hand dip into your panties for the first time, parting your folds and grazing your clit, your hips immediately jerked up to grind on his fingers. fingers that you always thought are so ungodly beautiful it should be considered a crime.

a moan you didn't even mean to let out sounded from you. the more those beautiful fingers stroked your pussy, the more it throbbed and clenched. your eyes widened in an aroused desperation, your hole clenching around the tips of his fingers as he prodded them teasingly at your entrance.

"you poor thing," wanderer cooed, "this is probably the best you have felt ever," he slowly wagged the pads of his fingers on your clit, tearing mewls from you as he just as teasingly pinched your clit. "you are so fucking wet, your cunt will suck my fingers in."

your clit throbbed, feeling shamelessly compelled to rub your soaking pussy on his fingers. "i thought you had to get to class?" he continued. your eyes widened as he started to take his hand out of your panties. "do you know how foolish it is to try and please everyone all the time?"

your hand shot out to grasp his wrist. "no, please. i don't want to go anywhere. i want to stay right here with you," you urged his hand between your legs again. "please," your eyes watered in desperation.

wanderer chuckled. did you have an idea how much of a turn on you are in general? you, the good and innocent girl was begging to skip class and stay with him with your legs spread on his bed. fuck, you deserve to have your pretty pussy stuffed full with his fingers. "who knew you are really such a slut?"

you are breaking so well under the weight of his corruption. you couldn't think about anything other than the need to feel his fingers fucking into you. thoughts you'd never had before about anyone. until wanderer.

"good girl," he tuggedyour panties off, his cock straining from watching the soaked material peel off your pussy. "moan for me while i break you. it's what you want the most, no?" he pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching you apart and hooking them to the knuckle into your sweet spot.

you nodded, jolts of pleasure crackling through you. your eyes nearly rolled closed in pleasure as he started pumping his fingers. they would've had he not put a hand on your jaw. "no, no, kitten. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while i make you cum," he gently squeezed your jaw to remind you of your place.

it is erotic to him how some of your moans even had a tinge of shock in them. you are coming apart so fast, your body only relaxing and submitting to him. he was devouring you, and nothing has ever felt better in your whole life.

the pumps of his fingers grew more aggressive with your consistent moans. he stretched your pussy apart so perfectly, sussing out every sensitive spot between your walls effortlessly. "a third finger, please," you moan, rocking your hips up extra to convey your plea.

wanderer was more than happy to oblige you. he abruptly added a third finger, bullying it against your sweet spot. a near scream of pleasure tore from your throat. "are you feeling good, slut?" his cock pulsed as your walls snapped tighter around his fingers. you obviously enjoy being degraded. "you'll tend to my cock next, yes?"

you struggled to even nod, your cheeks flushed with adoration. "yes! i want to more than anything!" you cried out, stroking his wrist in appreciation as your orgasm curled tighter, your juices frothing and gathering on the insides of your thighs.

"oh? more than going to class or pleasing your family?" wanderer couldn't wait for your inevitable response. a response that would no doubt make him want to impale you on his cock even more. he couldn't break you too fast.

could he?

"yes, yes please! so much more than..than.." your words fell away, the knot of your orgasm building and tightening to an almost overwhelming degree. "anything!" you barely managed to cry out, twitching and writhing as you scrambled to chase the wonderful high unlike any other that he was providing.

wanderer couldn't help but laugh shakily, slowly stroking his cock. you look more beautiful breaking than he imagined. he knew he didn't have to keep his hand on your chin anymore. you couldn't and wouldn't dream of taking your eyes off. not when he'd demanded you to keep looking at him while you cum.

[shalomniscient]

feixiao x reader [nsft utc]

"w-when i said we should do cardio after you finished, i didn't me-- ngh--!"

feixiao cuts you off with another sinful roll of her hips, bullying the head of her thick cock already buried full in your squeezing cunt against that one spot that has your toes curling. your thighs tremble as she has you face down ass up on the bed, her large hands squeezing the meat of your hips appreciatively. you have to crane your head to the side to look over your shoulder up at her, and her expression is pulled into one of shameless smugness, a fanged grin wide on her lips.

"what was that?" she teases, snaking a hand down to tease your stiff clit with her thumb. you groan at that, half-muffled against the sheets, and her ear twitches at the sound. "c'mon, you're not complaining, are you?"

with what little brain capacity you have left, you huff, inner walls squeezing around her in a way that has her sucking in a sharp breath. "n-no," you manage, fingers curling into the sheets as she languidly moves her hips, her hips clapping against the back of your thighs. feixiao chuckles, leaning down to kiss between your shoulder blades, along the curve of your spine. you shiver at the feeling of her warm breath against your skin, and then the plushness of her lips, reflexively pushing back against her as you chase more of that sweet friction.

"that's what i thought, princess," feixiao croons as she bends over you like a crescent, one hand sliding over the back of yours and intertwining your fingers while the other continues to work lazy circles around your clit. she's a lot more relaxed this time, some of her energy having been worked off by her training. she's indulging fully in the way your velvety cunt wraps snug around her shaft, fluttering and clenching each time she draws back only to snap back inside. she noses and nips along your shoulders and nape, sucking and biting little marks into the skin there. she can taste the tang of your sweat salty on her tongue, and she licks a stripe along the column of your neck just to hear you whine. the sound goes straight to her cock, twitching inside you, and her ears press flat against her skull.

despite the slowness of her pace, it isn't very long until you're squirming beneath her, the muscles of your abdomen flexing and jumping as your orgasm creeps up on you. she feels it too, a coil low and heavy in her gut and a pressure under her skin trying to expand outward. she trades her long, deep strokes for sharp grinds against you, keeping her cock snugly buried in your tightness. it allows her to target your g-spot with ruthless efficiency, pulling hoarse moans and cries from your lips. her chest is pressed to your back now as she leans as far forward as she can to chase your mouth, eager and needy to swallow your moans in a bruising kiss, although it's much less of a kiss and more of a dance of teeth and tongue. your breath mingles with hers, praise intertwined with breathy pleas of her name, and she swears upon the stars she's going to give you what you want. everything, anything you want.

"that's it, princess," she grunts as she feels you cum around her with a low cry into her mouth, "that's it. pretty girl, so pretty for me, so perfect." your pleasure-addled noises slowly taper off into sweet begging for her, for her to fill you up and cum inside and god she wonders if you know the things it does to her. you probably do, on some base physical level, which is why you so often mewl it to her even when your brain is leaking out through your pussy around her dick. feixiao ruts harder against you, a rumbling growl building in her throat as she feels her balls draw up tight and her heart skip several beats in a row to the time of her thrusts. when she finally cums she sinks her teeth into your shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but certainly hard enough to leave a mark, and you must enjoy it because you cum again, pussy squeezing and fluttering around her length like you're trying to drain her dry. her hips stutter of their own accord, fucking deeper into your addicting heat before she feels the edge wear off, and she slowly lowers herself down on your back, her face pressed against your spine as she pants for breath. she doesn't pull out, not yet, she knows you don't like it when she pulls out too quickly, so she stays within you as you both recover, idly smoothing her hands up and down your sides. when she hears your breathing even out, she presses another kiss to your sweat-damp skin.

"alright?" she asks, and you only make an affirmative noise in response. she laughs a little breathlessly, rolling over with you in her arms so she's not smothering you with her weight. the movement jostles her cock in your cunt a little, making you whine, but she soothes you with another kiss to your shoulder. her hand sneaks down to brush over the bulge she forms in your tummy, and she feels that heat pulse low at the base of her spine, but you're so thoroughly fucked out as it is that she decides to keep it to the back of her mind. for now.

(maybe it'll be a different story when you both make it to the shower. whenever that is.)

a minute later, her wristwatch beeps. right, she'd forgotten to take it off. she glances at it--then grins like a cat more than a fox; three perfectly filled cardio rings shine innocently at her from the screen. she knows what she's doing for cardio from now on.

[dirtypr0mises]

JUST LIKE THE TEXT I SENT YOU FROM THE BED ⋆ — b. eillish

in which; — after the entire breakup, billie is dangerously obsessed. you? not so much. she has to win you over.

billie x mean!reader (question mark)

cw; idrk.. playful bullying, teasing, intro to smut

yapyap; hey…. this is awk. it’s been a while, 7 months to be exact, (gulp). caelynn has been so stressed and i’m very sorry yall i will TRY key word…! anyways first time writing in a decade wish me luck..

walking past billie was her ex, you would’ve thought she would try to ignore her and drift her eyes everywhere but there, but the truth is, that’s all she could look at, everything kinda went in slow motion, the way her hair moved in the wind, the way she strutted effortlessly and confidently had billie in a chokehold.

billie looked at her for maybe a few seconds, it felt like years before she realized y/n was no longer in sight. she snapped back into reality and tried to go on about her day.

a few hours later, billie texts y/n a simple ‘hey’. read. ‘fuck’ she mumbled to herself, ‘why did i do that’. she grabbed her pillow and held it, staring at the wall until she felt a buzz right beneath her left thigh.

She hurriedly picked up the phone n saw y/ma name brighten across the screen, a big smile stretched across her face.

‘hey billie’ she texted back. they conversated for a while and the conversation ended with ‘I guess you can come over’

and just like that billie was back to her old ways. she immediately drove as fast as she could legally to the apartment which y/n resided.

she knocked on the door, smiling as y/ns face peaked through, soon her whole body was in the door frame, scooting so billie could come inside.

‘you look fucking great’ billie mumbled walking past her. ‘hmm?’ y/n hummed, and of course, billie lied her way through that too.

‘so what did you need?’ y/n said.

‘you’ billie replied.

‘you can’t just sit here and pretend like you did lie to me our entire relationship, and turn around and expect me to drop my panties as soon as you walk by, sorry billie, i’ve changed.’

an awkward silence thickened the air as billie just stared, a flash of seriousness beaming upon her face, she took one of y/ns hands ands softly kissed it,

‘y/n, i had no excuse to lie to you, or to treat you bad, i was just shitty. You might have moved on but i seriously want to make it up to you, any way.’

y/n blankly stared at billie. ‘any way?’

‘mhm’ billie smirked.

‘well i do have a massive load of laundry i don’t feel like doing, so let’s start there.’

billie’s annoying smirk quickly wiped off her face as she sighed, playfully dropping her shoulders as she walked to the laundry room, and of course she did the laundry, why wouldn’t she?

‘soooo what now?’ billie said as she pushed start on the washing machine, finally taking a breath of freedom.

in the course of 45 minutes, while billie was folding, washing, and putting away clothes, y/n had took a shower and ordered takeout, for two.

‘come sit down because your going to be drying and putting that load up.’ y/n said as she pointed to the couch as if it was golden treasure.

sure enough, billie did just that, sitting down on the couch and manspreading, fuck how y/n loved that.

y/n stayed a comfortable distance away, eating her food as ‘waves’ played on the tv.

‘eat hoe, i didn’t order two for nothing.’ y/n said, pointing to the box on the coffee table, billie slowly picked up the box and ate the food inside, very quietly. it’d had now been about an hour of eating and smiling, from awkwardness to jokes very quickly. the washing machine signaled it was done so billie walked to the machine, transferring the clothes from the washer to the dryer, coming to sit back on the couch.

manspeading again, billie sprawls her arms on the back of the couch, right over y/ns shoulder.

‘fuck you look good.’ y/n mumbled, audibly enough for billie to hear.

‘what was that?’ billie said softly, but in such a seductive voice it pained y/n.

y/n hummed to try to change the subject, in which billie softly put a finger under y/ns chin, making her look into her eyes.

‘i want all of you.’ billie said, her thumb brushing on y/ns lips before she moved her hand completely.

‘oh fuck you.’ y/n said

‘okay.’ and with that, their lips collided smoothly, billie’s hands pulling y/ns waist towards her and sitting her on her lap.

dundundun

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 4

______________________

"why are they... Bedazzled?" Charles asks, looking at the mass of weapons ranging in designs

Some weapons look like they came straight off Genshin impact, while some look like (Name) just copied off weapon designs from deviant art

One weapon, a claymore, had intricate details on the blade, showing a story, a war, some caves and oceans, and a kingdom

"I got bored so I decided to carve the odyssey on the blade" you smile

They left you alone, in the forgery, for like 12 hours or something, came back to call you for dinner, and they see this

"I have ones, I made for myself, the others we can put in the armory-"

"Ehem, (Name)? May I have a moment with you?" Chiron, is this awesome centaur

When he first saw you he took you to the big house and healed your injuries

"Yes..?" You ask, did you do something wrong? Are unclaimed kids not allowed to stay in the territory of claimed kids? Technically this was a child of Hephaestus thing- but you were brought here? And-

"someone wants to speak with you" Chiron continues and you were snapped out your thoughts

"She is a daughter of Zeus, and I believe you know her already the last time I saw her was when she was a child, still staying on her home island, she is a trust worthy woman" he explained further

This doesn't calm your nerves, cause why, why does a child of Zeus want to see you?

Suddenly a familiar woman walks closer to you "Hey (Name), I was worried sick you know, you could have left a note"

"Diana!" You yell and run up to hug her

You love Diana, back when you were still a robin, and Batman bought you and Damian to meet the justice league

You were left alone in the corner while superman and Batman talked about Jon's and Damian's potential

The other members approached you, one of the reasons you loved being a vigilante was because of them, you had someone to talk to

Flash was like the funny uncle and green arrow was the uncle who tried to one up batman, they were all awesome, but you're favorite was Diana

She had this glow, not glow like green lantern- but this sense that you really mattered to her

____________________

"you're also a demigod?!" You exclaim in surprise, she nods while smiling

She holds your hand "I was thinking you were one too actually, but I didn't have enough proof, Bruce always said you were a target for mutants that's why you had to stop being a vigilante, but it's clear that those were actually monsters"

But then she went quiet "Why don't you come back (Name)? I'll explain everything to Bruce and I'm sure more precautions for your safety would be taken care of"

No it won't.

"D-diana... I don't want to return" you said meekly

"what... Why?"

"I- I'm not welcome back home... See Bruce and his kids- they don't think I'm special enough to stay in their family" you say

"... excuse me?" Diana's demeanor changed, like a cold air blowing over her

You shift and hesitate, but you decide to pull through, it was like a dam burst

Your tears blur your vision, as you go over every general and specific event that you felt unloved and unwanted

You weren't stupid, just because you never received love doesn't mean you don't know what it is, you could tell if someone didn't want you, because you've seen how they love

You've seen how Bruce got protective of his kids, how he cares about them in his own way, how the batsibs have their own dynamics, they claim to dislike each other yet are always by their side when needed

It was just never towards you.

You know what love what, and your relationship with those people, that wasn't love

It was indifference, you remember the first time Barbara talked to you is when you fought with Tim and she yelled at you backing her brother up

It wasn't too late, you could still receive what you've been craving for, but for sure you don't want it from the Wayne's

A few weeks after Damian appeared, his bullying towards you that has gotten worse by the day, you decided to retaliate

_______________________

(Name) Wayne 11 years old

Slap

Ouch, you thought

Jason Todd, the man who claimed Damian was a demon spawn, the man who picked on Damian jokingly

He slapped you for Damian

It was one of those rainy days in Gotham, you're in school, you were having a quiet day till the teacher called out your name

"(Name)! Two days to do the assignment and you passed nothing?! Don't make excuses child, your brother Damian was able to pass it"

You look up confused "But miss I did pass my work"

"where is it!?? Am I a special case of blind that I can see everyone's work but yours?!"

The laughs and Snickers of your classmates echo in the room

Damian had taken your work, and passed it as his

That fucker-

After school back in the mansion you lunge at him

"you spoiled asshole!" Unfortunately Jason was there, and the person who was usually a Damian hater became his apologist cause he went straight to help him

You explained what happened, of course you did, but even after knowing he stood his ground, he even told father and now you're punished

Isolation (as if you weren't isolated enough)

You could live like this, live every day without seeing them

Then it happened, Stephanie was in danger, well both of you were

It was one of Bruce's galas, the Wayne family was staying in a private room, and Harley Quinn broke in, laughing like a maniac, she grabbed the ones near her and which were you and Steph

On hostage both of you, Dick made a move to save Steph, he ran in her direction to try and pry Steph off Quinn's arms

Damian shot the Harley's leg, the one near Steph of course so she had a better chance of getting away

Once Steph was free, Cass hugged her

And then Tim, oh fucking tim

He used his electric staff to electrocute Harley, while she was still holding you

For a great detective he's quite an idiot.

That was it, he didn't even get in trouble with Bruce for that, they tied up Harley quietly and decided to proceed with the gala

Without you of course, come on, you're injured, why would you go with them?

It was like a switch flipped, after that not once have you ever tried to make them love you.

_________________________

"you can't make me go back there- Diana please!" You sob

She hugged you tight "I won't, I won't- I'll find a way to keep Bruce from finding you, I promise"

She kissed your forehead "For now... I want you to keep trying, make friends, if your parent claims you, you'll have new siblings"

"for now, be happy"

__________________________

Ivan Werner sat beside you, he was one of Hephaestus's kids that you made friends with earlier

Diana left a while ago and you were left trying to stop yourself from crying

"the conversation was that intense?" He hands you a handkerchief

You smile and accept "Yeah... It was- about my mortal family, they weren't really the best people"

"I hear that, my mother was a mad inventor who sold inventions that would self destruct to cause harm for the buyers" he says

Your brows furrowed at the implication Ivan's mom might be a villain

"hey- everyone has their past, that's why they end up here, I hope you find your place here in camp (Name), we really like you here"

KEOEOWHFVSBJAIEBD BE AKHRJEO WOSLAKDNDNNSKW

A flash of light appears before the both of you

You take your time trying to adjust your eyes, and you see the campers, Mr.D and Chiron there

"Out of everyone here!?!? You decide to- fraternize with a child of Hephaestus!?! I WONT ALLOW IT, you're too beautiful for him my darling!"

What the fuck?? Who is this extremely rude and gorgeous floating lady?

You haven't even registered the fact that now you're wearing a chitton, your hair has been decorated with pearls and small intricate gold flowers

A pink aura making you glow

"what's going on!?!?" You ask panicked

The beautiful gorgeous, ethereal, pretty, cute, hot, sexy, dashing, charming lady goes to the ground

"Hi dearest!" She smiles

You hear Chiron clear his throat "(Name) Wayne! Child of Aphrodite!"

_______________________

I had the godly parent chosen from the start acc, I wrote this fic with her in mind

A child of love without receiving any

Hope you like the chapter! :3

@nathaly36 @erikasurfer @jisnothere @bat1212 @sweetconnoisseurgardener @vanessa-boo

[littlexdeaths]

𝕝𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕘𝕠, 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 (𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣)

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: some bullying, little sprinkle of hurt/comfort, lots more smooching, underage drinking/partying, so so so much cuteness

part three | part five

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4k

a/n: a shoutout to both @rebelfell for gifting me eddie’s costume idea and @thepurplelovewitch for shy girls! and the biggest kudos to @undead-supernova for looking this over and always encouraging/helping me to improve. <3

“Nance, if you think I’m wearing that, you’ve lost your damn mind,” you mutter with utmost distaste. 

The brunette peeks her head around the package she’s holding to give you a small pout, the other hand resting on her hip.

“Oh come on, live a little!” She sighs, putting the sexy nurse costume back onto the rack. “There is no way I am letting you sulk on your couch again this year.”

You roll your eyes but continue browsing the costumes, each one more revealing than the last. You didn’t mind spending your Halloween night curled up on the sofa with a scary movie, you were more comfortable that way. 

Besides you weren’t normally invited to such gatherings, even if you did want to go. Tina only seemed to invite you out of obligation, not because she wanted you there. 

“Well…maybe I won’t be spending it alone,” you mumble and her brow quirks up.

“Oh, are you and Eddie doing something?” she prods. 

But your shoulders sag a little, unable to hide your disappointment when you shake your head.

“I mean, he hasn’t asked me…yet.”

You continue to flick through the costumes, now too consumed in your own thoughts. 

It has been a week since he kissed you on the football field—and it’s still the only thing you can think about.

The warm press of his mouth against yours, breathes mingling together in the chill autumn air. The way his strong hands encircled your waist, brushing up against the cool skin of your cheek. The memory sends a delightful shiver down your spine, despite the suffocating warmth of the small costume shop. 

“Okay,” Nancy says with finality, abruptly interrupting your daydream. She nods her head in satisfaction. “Okay, this is the one!” 

She thrusts a costume into your awaiting arms. Once you catch a glimpse of it, you blanch before immediately shaking your head and giving it back. 

“And you’re actually insane, Nance.”

She rolls her eyes, but shoves it back into your arms anyway.

“Oh, come on, isn’t the whole point of Halloween to dress up? Go outside your comfort zone?” 

You glance down from her encouraging gaze to the costume in your hands. A woman with flowing blonde hair is smiling back at you, a black and white corset hugging her curves in all the right places. 

But it’s the pair of bunny ears perched atop her head and the white cotton tail attached to the backside of the costume that somehow makes you feel more insecure. 

“I am not dressing up as a pornstar—”

Nancy all but slaps a hand over your mouth to stop your hysterical shriek. A mother with her young son gives you both a distasteful look as they pass, the tips of your ears warming in embarrassment as you tuck the costume behind your back. 

“It’s not a pornstar costume,” she quips with a lowered voice. “It’s a Playboy Bunny.” 

You give her a look, blowing out an exasperated breath. 

“As if they aren’t the same thing?” 

By some miracle you manage to walk out of that shop a half hour later. Nancy’s promise of burgers and milkshakes fuel your last minute costume decision. But as you both descend onto Main Street, leaves crunching beneath your boots, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you. 

It’s as if they can see that damned bunny costume hidden beneath the dark plastic bag, the contents weighing you down with each step you take towards Nancy’s station wagon. 

Twenty minutes. 

It’s been twenty minutes since he’s been kept waiting, and Eddie’s patience is finally beginning to run out. But the snap of a branch catches his attention, eyes darting to the trees ahead. 

Eddie is more than confused when he realizes the regular he was supposed to be meeting had bailed on him. And the person that emerges from the line of trees is none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

He quickly shuts the metal lunchbox as she approaches, taking a seat on the bench opposite of him, determination clear on her features.

“Uh…are you lost, Wheeler?”

“No,” she states flatly, swinging the other leg over the bench seat. “You’re just the guy I’ve been looking for.” 

He scratches at the stubble on his jaw, fingers tapping against the worn wood of the table. Eddie has seen a lot of odd things in his twenty years of life, but Nancy Wheeler making a drug deal was not something he ever expected. 

He glances at her warily when she folds her hands on the table, looking far too prim and proper to be sitting out here with him and his lunchbox full of weed. 

“Well, how can I be of service then, Wheeler?” he tilts his head towards the metal box, but she holds his gaze regardless. 

“I have a proposition for you.” 

He can’t help but snort, already beginning to shake his head. 

“Okay, I don’t know what rumors you've heard Wheeler, but the only type of payment I accept is cold hard cash.” 

And from the look of almost horror that crosses over her features, he instantly realizes he’s misread this entire situation. 

“Oh god, I’m not here for a drug deal, Munson!” 

It’s silent for a beat, neither of them daring to look at the other out of sheer embarrassment. 

“So, why are you here, Nancy?” he asks quietly. 

Her eyes flick up to look at him again, noting the splotches of pink rising up the skin of his neck. 

“Tina’s party on Friday,” she starts, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. 

His shoulders sag a little at her answer, arching a brow in her direction. He only can assume someone put her up to this, one of her more popular friends not wanting to be caught dead with the likes of him. Well, unless they need someone to supply the weed. 

Nonetheless, a part of him can’t help but admit he’s a little intrigued.

“What about it?”

Nancy flashes him a look before continuing. 

“There’s a certain someone that’s going to be in attendance…” she trails, biting back a smile when he instantly perks up. “And I think she would really want you to be there.” 

Eddie’s cheeks flush a rosy pink, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. While he had thought about going to try and make some extra cash, he wasn’t exactly sold on the idea. 

A costume party filled with a bunch of drunken idiots that hated his guts sounded like a goddamn nightmare. But knowing that you were going to be there? Well, that changed things drastically. 

“I’ll be there,” he asserts. 

Nancy is a little taken aback but happily surprised by his quick response. In her own way this was also a small test. A test to see if Eddie really liked you as much as you claimed he did. And she had gotten her answer. 

“Well, great!” she says, flashing him a polite smile and rising to her feet. “Be there by 10 o’clock sharp, and don’t forget to wear a costume!” 

Eddie doesn't have a chance to reply before Nancy turns on her heel and disappears back through the trees. 

Friday has finally come. 

And your stomach twists with every step you take toward the large house, the click of your heels on the sidewalk a far more steady rhythm than the beat of your own heart. Parties had never really been your thing and the only other one you’d managed to get invited to was at Steve’s house, back when he and Nancy were still together. 

So it was no surprise that you felt completely out of your element as you continued to strode up the darkened walkway. You can feel the bass pumping inside you before you even cross the threshold, wringing your hands together in a nervous manner. 

The air is thick with the smell of smoke and cheap beer, throngs of your peers in scantily clad costumes stumbling past you to the makeshift dance floor. No one spares you a passing glance as you take a step deeper into the hazy room, your own eyes seeking out your best friend. 

Her pale pink dress was surprisingly difficult to spot amongst the crowd, but it was Jonathan who you ended up spotting first. He looked out of place amongst the dancing teens, a dark blue suit hugging his shoulders as he leaned against the far wall of the living room. A pair of round sunglasses shielding his eyes. 

The Duckie to her Andie. 

Relief floods your chest as you begin to push through the crowd, the pounding bass echoing in your ears. Nancy looks surprised when she finally spots you, passing her drink to Jonathan before pulling you aside.

“Where’s the bunny costume?!” she shouts over the music, tugging at the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I couldn’t do it Nance,” you reply, wrapping your arms further around your middle. “It just wasn’t…me.”

And while you can see the clear disappointment written on her features, there’s a sparkle of understanding in her eyes. 

“Well, if you’re going to be a,” she pauses to look over your ensemble in its entirety. “…librarian,” she continues, “You at least need to be a sexy one.”

And without another word she’s pulling you into the nearest bathroom. When the door clicks shut behind her, she immediately gets to work. She reaches to untuck your button down shirt from your pleated skirt, popping open the buttons one by one to reveal the swell of your breasts.

You earn a small nod of approval when she sees you actually wore the push-up bra you had bought for your original costume. The brunette gives the lower half of your shirt the same treatment before tying it off with a knot right above your navel.

Lastly, Nancy hikes your skirt up a little higher up your hips and takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

“Perfection. There’s no way Eddie’s gonna be able to resist you like this.” She grins and you feel your palms begin to sweat.

“What do you mean? Eddie’s here?!”

Suddenly it all clicks into place. 

The real reason for why both her and Eddie were missing at lunch last Wednesday. Before you have a chance to question her any further, she’s fled the bathroom, her curly bob disappearing in the sea of drunken teens.

Damn her.

You take one last look in the mirror, fighting the urge to pull your cardigan tighter over your newly exposed skin when you rejoin the party. Your eyes scan the entirety of the room, in search of that tall lanky figure you’ve come to know all too well. 

To your dismay, Eddie is nowhere to be found. While you knew he wouldn’t be amongst the groups of people grinding against each other in the living room, you had expected him to be tucked in a corner somewhere—observing. 

You find yourself searching almost every inch of Tina’s large home and backyard, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him. And, unfortunately for you, instead of finding Eddie, you stumbled upon a couple getting hot and heavy in her parents bedroom. To which you quickly slammed the door shut and tried to scrub the image from your memory. 

You take those stairs back down to the main level slowly, disappointment weighing each of your steps. There was only one place you haven’t checked yet: the kitchen. And with your terrible success rate, a drink sounds too appealing to pass up. 

But once you cross through that open doorway, you stop dead in your tracks. Because there he is, in all his handsome glory—casually leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest, a drink long abandoned next to him. 

Has he been here this whole time? 

While his expression borders on cynical, all of that shifts once your eyes meet. Eddie’s throat bobs, jaw slackening once you come into view. The set of plastic vampire fangs sitting between his teeth fall to the sticky tile floor with a soft clack. 

He has to practically wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth as you approach, straightening up and trying to look at anywhere other than the swell of your breasts.

“Hi,” you breathe softly.

But his answering smile has your knees about to buckle beneath you.

“Hello to you, sweetheart.”

Only then do your eyes flick downward, towards the t-shirt adorning his broad chest. And you let out a soft snort of amusement.

This is my Halloween costume is written in dark Sharpie against the bright orange cotton. The words are slanted and messy, as if he scribbled it on in a rush. It’s barely visible beneath the lapels of his leather jacket when he crosses his arm over his chest.

He quirks a brow at you. “What? Are you not impressed?” he muses with a teasing glint in his eye. “I thought it was quite clever, if I do say so myself.”

His smile widens at the soft giggles that bubble past your lips, leaning further back against the counter before motioning to your ensemble.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be then, hm?” He chuckles, as if it isn’t obvious.

But you feel your face warm, suddenly hyper aware of every inch of bare skin that’s now exposed to him when your hands fall to your sides.

“Uh… a librarian,” you reply, trying to muster up some feigned confidence.

Eddie’s eyes darken slightly as he takes in your bare midriff, tongue gliding over his lower lip in deep thought.

“So, I take it you’ve come to reprimand me for my overdue book fines?”

Feeling slightly emboldened, you take a small step closer, lightly nibbling on your lower lip to stifle another giggle. 

“I mean, rumor has it you’ve had that copy of The Hobbit checked out since your junior year…” you trail off, carefully pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. “That’s an awful lot of fines, Eddie.” 

“My sincerest apologies, Miss,” he grins before placing a hand over his chest, those dark eyes alight with mischief. “Is there anything I can do to remedy this…misunderstanding?” 

You hum in contemplation, gently tapping a finger to your pouted lips—an action his eyes can’t help but follow. 

“Hm, perhaps…” you say before glancing over your shoulder toward the crowded living room. 

While dancing isn’t something you normally gravitate toward, something in you wants to try. Although it’s a silly high school milestone you never expected to experience, you don’t want it to pass you by either. Especially with Eddie by your side.

Maybe it’s the trickle of confidence that’s surging through your veins or the underlying adoration in his eyes, but either way, you reach out and lace your fingers together. 

“Dance with me?” 

Eddie doesn’t hesitate before he grasps onto your hand, a dimple indenting his cheek as he grins down at you. 

“I’d be honored, sweetheart.” 

It takes all of your self control to hold back a small squeal of excitement, quickly leading him out of the kitchen and towards the heart of the party. You’ve barely made it to the threshold before you feel it. 

Warmth. 

Wet, sticky warmth splashes up onto your neck, dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. Soaking into the white cotton of your shirt and sticking to your skin, the red punch does you no favors as the lace of your bra is revealed through the fabric.

“Oops,” a sickly sweet voice croons, but the unmistakable snark in their tone tells you this was anything but an accident.

Roxy Carraway just smirks at you, now glancing down at her empty cup with a mock pout. Two of her friends flank her on either side, keeping you frozen in place.

A gazelle caught between three lionesses, their claws sharpened and teeth bared.

“Now I need another drink,” she whines, snapping her gum obnoxiously. “You know, you really should watch where you’re going, freak.”

She hisses, taking one glance at you and then the male behind you before flipping her blonde hair off her shoulder and striding past you into the kitchen.

You don’t say anything as she knocks her shoulder into yours, white hot shame blazing through you as you meet the eyes of several other party goers. Whispers and snickers of laughter begin to flow through the crowd that were there to bear witness to the interaction.

No one offers you a shred of remorse or pity as they continue on, the thump of bass dragging their attention elsewhere. Tears began to sting your eyes, lower lip wobbling.

Don’t let them see you cry.

When you turn to rush toward the front door a pair of strong arms envelope you, tugging you down the darkened hallway and away from the throngs of your peers.

“Hey, hey—are you okay, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard it but a newfound rage begins to simmer beneath the warmth of his irises. When all he receives in response is a small shake of your head, he carefully tugs you both into the small bathroom you’d been shoved into earlier by Nancy.

Only this time any ounce of excitement has been drained from your limbs.

When your eyes meet your reflection, you wince, noting the harsh red liquid that clings to your shirt. The fabric suctions to you like a second skin and accentuates the curve of your breasts from the bra beneath. But not in a way that makes you feel a lick of confidence.

Before you can stare for too long, Eddie guides you to take a seat on the lid of the toilet, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it beneath the stream of water. His ringed fingers catch in the harsh lighting as he wrings the rag out into the basin of the sink. The droplets slide over the rough calluses of his fingers.

Eddie turns to you then, sinking to his knees before you. He gently nudges your thighs apart before slipping between them, the stray water droplets soaking into the fabric of your knee-high stockings. His hands are warm where they rest against your upper thigh, the other gently gliding the washcloth over your chin and down your throat.

Despite your best efforts to remain calm and collected, your breath hitches in your throat—something the male doesn’t miss.

While you can see the small smirk that threatens to tug at the corner of his mouth, he says nothing. No teasing comment as he continues to clean the dried punch from your skin.

“I’m sorry this happened,” he mutters softly, that small smile now turning downwards into a frown. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You can tell by the mournful look that spreads across his features that there’s more he wants to say, but he refrains.

That should’ve been me.

While the words remain unspoken between you, you hear them loud and clear.

“It’s not your fault you know,” you whisper, eyes dancing along the strong features of his face. Memorizing each freckle that dots along the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. “They probably would’ve found another way to torment me tonight anyway.”

His hand stills once he reaches the curve of your chest, eyes flicking up for your permission before he delves into uncharted territory. But you are unable to hide your shy smile at his display of nerves.

With your nod of approval, Eddie continues on, fingers trembling slightly when the cloth dips past the collar of your shirt. He can feel the heat of your skin through the damp fabric, his body aching to feel that warmth melting into his own. 

But he keeps his composure, shifting slightly at the uncomfortable ache in his knees. You continue to watch him closely, that look of longing he’s witnessed for months now sparkling beneath your irises. 

Your gaze continues to travel lower, over his cheekbones until they reach his full lips. They’re pursed in concentration, just the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. He continues to glide the damp cloth along your skin, wiping away the sticky residue. 

But Eddie can feel the weight of your stare. In a nervous yet teasing gesture, he glides his tongue over his lower lip. 

“Would it be weird if I wanted you to kiss me right now?” you whisper.

Eddie’s eyes flick up to meet yours, fingers hovering over the dip between your breasts. He swallows harshly, your eyes following the bob of his throat. But the corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft grin that has your heart stuttering beneath your ribs. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies, washcloth dropping to the tile floor as he reaches to cup your cheeks. 

When your lips meet, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slipping your arms around his neck to tug him impossibly closer. Despite your newfound urgency, his movements are slow, gentle as he molds his mouth over yours. Almost as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against his own. 

Your hands quickly find themselves in his wild hair, twirling the dark strands around the tips of your fingers. He groans softly when your nails scratch against his scalp, the deep rumble of it sends warmth blossoming beneath the surface of your skin. 

And soon, too soon he’s pulling away. 

The male is practically panting, gazing up at you with an almost dazed expression. But Eddie soon notes the small pout that’s beginning to form on your lips, leaning forward to press another tender kiss to your mouth. 

“How about we ditch this lame ass party?” he mumbles against your lips, earning a small hum of approval from you.

And he can’t help but press another kiss to your awaiting mouth. “We could go to my place, maybe rent a video…” He chuckles when you pull him in for another firm kiss. “Order a pizza? Large pepperoni—” 

“With olives,” you add, gently nipping his lower lip. 

The male groans low in his throat, lips ghosting over the edge of your jaw. 

“Half with olives,” he counters. 

“Deal,” you breathe, giving him one more spine tingling kiss before he begrudgingly rises to his feet. 

And when he begins to slip his jacket off his shoulders, your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting in a silent question. He just gives you a cheeky grin as he reaches to hook his fingers into the nape of his t-shirt. The male quickly pulls it over his head, his bare chest now on full display.

Before you have time to fully ogle the dark ink that swirls across his skin, he hands you the bright orange shirt. You can already feel the warmth of the fabric seeping into the palm of your hands, confusion still evident on your face whilst he shrugs the jacket back on.  

“There’s no way I’m letting those assholes get the last laugh, sweetheart,” he explains, motioning to your stained shirt. 

And your heart thuds at the implication, a half smile tugging at your lips. You eagerly slip the cardigan off your shoulders, reaching for the buttons on your blouse. You let out a soft giggle when Eddie quickly spins on his heel in an attempt to give you some privacy. 

Once you remove the ruined blouse, you gladly toss it in the wastebasket, slipping the borrowed shirt over your head. His scent hits you like a tidal wave, warm and spicy with a slight undertone of weed. It’s a smell you want to wrap yourself up in for days, have it imprinted on your skin forever.

You take another subtle whiff before you clear your throat and rise to your feet. The movement further closes the already short distance between you. 

“I’m decent,” you say finally.

You’re unable to hide your amusement when he turns around so quickly that he almost crashes straight into you. But his look of concern vanishes the moment your laughter rings in his ears, securing his arms around your waist. 

“What’s so funny, sweet thing?” he chuckles, head tilting down toward you. His wandering gaze now focused on your lips. 

“I thought you said we had to stop meeting like this, Eddie.” 

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @josephquinnsfreckles