#cause oh my god dude deserved
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introspectivememories · 11 months ago
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my timbern hot take is that i thank god everyday that we got riley rossmo's art for those first few issues instead of serg acuña's because i know some of you bitches would've been extremely weird about timbern if we had gotten acuña's manga-esque style from the beginning
#some of you people would've been soooo weird about them#ooooh i just /know/ the discourse would've been so fucking crazy#and there would've been way too much discussion over who tops#and cause they drew tim taller in acuña's style#you woulda had people swearing up and down that it's tim#this post feels like swinging a bat at a hornet's nest#the amt of tiny waist/waif-like bear we would've gotten???#oh my god i'm like thanking every god i know that i ended up in this universe#who do you think would've gotten daddy-dom-ified?#i wanna say tim just bc he's a superhero and bear's a civvie but... maybe bear?#tim goes out and saves the city each night and then goes home and immediately becomes more pathetic than a wet dog for bear#i will be logging off after this /j#gonna post this and then immediately scrub the memory of this post out of my mind#also i think bear's pov issue was the perfect place for acuña's art#sorry but bear deserves to be drawn like that all the time#acuña idc if you work on the next shitty batfam story#i will always defend you#some dude 20yrs from now talking about acuña's work: didn't he do like *insert absolutely horrendous comic run here*#me frothing at the mouth: yeah but he did tdr7 so really i think it cancels out#dc#bernard dowd#tim drake#timber#timbern#also if we're being honest there is a reason that timbern got semi popular over jayjon#and that's bc timbern are 2 ***** men and jay is east asian and people will ship anything if they're *****#and bc ppl are still really hung up on d*m*j*n for some reason???? as if they aren't still friends???#and if you really want a mlm ship for damian‚ colin wilkes is right there!!!!#nika is right there!!! stop playin in my face!!!!#and!! i would argue that jayjon is written better than timbern
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potofbees · 4 months ago
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Smiles at you, devilishly. This but with the guy who starts with a A and wakes up or whatever.
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youuu..... wheng i GET you
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this makes me realize i really am a sucker for characters that have lots and lots of problems. my favs always end up being freaks that i would write entire dissertations on for a psychology class and this man is no different. they could make entire psychology courses devoted to the mind of this 1 guy and the many horrible decisions he has made. i am captivated by him and he deserves so much better but he also deserves the torture labyrinth just a little bit. u know how it is. hes just some guy but also hes a metaphor for mental illness but also hes a metaphor for artists block but also hes a metaphor for addiction but also hes a metaphor for how capitalism corrupts art but also none of that matters cause hes kind of a loser. every time i think about this guy i feel compelled to write an essay. freak behavior. he is an extremely well written and fascinating character but never in a million years would i ever want to meet this guy in real life. i got my own problems to deal with hope he gets to talk to a therapist in the third game or whatever but thats not MY problem.
hope this helps :thumbs_up: (im normal)
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cartoonghosts · 12 days ago
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everything is terrible actually
#I really just need a hug I think#I havent had real serious physical affection in so long#I know I dont deserve jt no one does and Its a fucked up thing to make other people do things to help me#But fuck dude I just want someone to come up to me and grab my hand or hug me#My platonic partner used to do it all the time but we're on a break and I need to rely on them less#I keep befriending people who dont like physical touch and I am gonna stab something#Truly I just need one person who I can lean on or cuddle with casually#Ideally more than one!! But like. Idk#I need to get over myself this isnt an actual need im acting selfish and entitled#I know that the only real answer here is Get Over It or die#And ive been trying to get over it for years#Ive stopped initiating physical touch bc I dont want to make people uncomfortable#And im worried that that means that people assume I am uncomfortable with it#Bc I never mention how deep a need it is to me to know im even just being tolerated#But if I mention that theyxll feel pressured#Ugh#The worst part is I cant actually kms bc of this until at least after May is here cause I know that she's good with that stuff#And maybe once shes here i'll be okay#Happily codependent with the person ive been close with for the longest time since fourth grade#But ughhhhhhhhh terrube to have to wait over 400 more days. I will do it for her but oh ny god I am rotting from the inside out#I do not want her to come home to a decayed corpse but I dont knkw how much longer I can keep this up#(Not talking specifically abt touch that would be weird and dramatic as shit this is generally Everything)#May forgive me if u come to seattle and im a shell of the person I was when u met me
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gayalanwake · 2 months ago
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GRABS UOU AND SHAKES YOU ALL AROUND?:!:?:?;?::
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OH LOOK is this another summer 1998 fanart?? @gayalanwake hi :)
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amandabbbbb · 5 months ago
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summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending
tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once
word count: 762
“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.
“where do you want me to go?”
“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.
“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”
you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.
“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.
“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”
“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.
rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”
“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me
 i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”
he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)
the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.
your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.
“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.
you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.
the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.
he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”
you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe
” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”
he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit
”
you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”
rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just
 i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.
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hereforthehitsbaby · 4 months ago
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Good to be Back | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader
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Synopsis: You have lived across from the Adams' for what feels like ever, since you started your bachelor's degree. You notice Rachel's car peeling out of the driveway with such force it causing the ground to shake. Before you could escape back into your home, your eyes connect with Cooper's. "Care for a drink?"
Warnings: Language, Infidelity, Rough Sex, Bondage, Oral F!Receiving, Oral M! Receiving, PIV sex, Implied Age Gap (legal), Mention of Disappearances, Spanking, Choking, Daddy Kink (Heavy), F!Reader, Mentions of The Butcher
Rating: M
Author's Note: Fandom hopper oh my god...but I cannot stop thinking about Cooper Adams!!
Word Count: 5K
Tagging Moots: @rubyfruitjungle @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @vamplreslayer (If you do want to be tagged going forth, please let me know! If not, I can remove you! (: )
If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out
Invisible. The notion itself holds mystery. One not being seen by the world, but observing all of the tactics. It's the equivalent of being a ghost, or a fly on the wall; taking in every moment, every conversation. It can be useful, but also can be deadly. One small slip up and it was forever embedded in the air. There was no way to escape the truth when it slipped through intoxicated mouths - or fake bodies. But there is a perk to knowing everyone's dirt. Easy to manipulate, and easy to interject.
That is how your next door neighbor is, but you have no idea.
It has been so long since you were last home, God it must have been an eternity. After graduation you wanted - no needed - to get away. Something about being stuck in Philly made you ill. When the opportunity arose to get the fuck out you hopped ship faster than you were brought into this world. The freedom, independence; sights to see and a life of adventure to live. You thought that is how it would be, you were wrong.
College life wasn't as everyone made it out to be. You should've known it was bullshit from when you first stepped on campus, your roommate fucking some random on your bed. It set the entire tone, first it was your bed getting defiled, then it was your desk. Before you could even process what was happening, your life took a complete turn. That one frat party.
That's a moment you hate remembering. It was fun but the aftermath was scary enough. You were always warned about frat parties, what could arise. But being a young, naïve student you had everything stacked against you. This didn't even happen in your freshman year, but your senior. Every time these guys were throwing a shindig you found yourself buried in schoolwork - wanting nothing more than to let these dude’s fuck off. With your final year coming into play you wanted to branch out, though you wished you hadn't.
The party was fuzzy, all you remember was what you were told. But it happened so quickly - one day you're a wallflower and the next, the talk of campus. Eyes burned holes into your soul with every step you took, every glance was directed at you. You couldn't handle it. Something needed to happen, you begged to whoever was listening to give these guys the revenge they deserved. The things that they did, what was said - someone needed to take them down. In fact it only took a week, and your prayers were answered.
It was freeing, hearing around campus how those four dude’s just disappeared. Poof, out of existence. The matter was dropped; life was normal again. Curiosity got the best of you when you heard their names, exactly who did you wish to for this to happen? Like everything else in life it all slips away, becoming of the past. Life ticked on with its duties - you couldn't let go. From the beginning to the end everything went by quickly; a college graduate and ready to take on the world.
Graduating was suppose to mean getting your dream job, working in the field that you loved - but everything took time. As you packed up your car with the memories of the last four years, you couldn't help but reminisce. Four years worth of memories and mistakes, tucked away in the cheapest cardboard boxes. Why did life have to change so much when you were just getting comfortable again? Although you will miss college it was a good riddance, now you could prep yourself for the world.
It wasn't ideal to head back to your hometown but, it was needed. Your family hasn’t seen you in a while, plus job searching is better when you don't have to pay for room and board, especially in this economy. The four hour drive felt like an hour, tunes blasting through the car as you head back into the vortex. Your hometown felt like it was a time warp, one giant forcefield keeping everyone and everything in. Breaching that meant coming to terms that you, as well, might be stuck. Only for a few months, that's it.
As you turned down your old street, it felt like something straight out of a movie - it looked fake. Perfect houses with perfect families, this was some Truman show shit if you have ever seen it. Before you could get wrapped up in conspiracies, you saw your home - smiling softly as you rounded the corner. Pulling into the driveway there was a heavy shroud on your chest - things were out of place. Fixating on the note from the garage door you saw only a glimmer of what it said:
Going to be out of town for a month for our retirement trip. Love you, be safe!
“Great”, you thought. Just when you wanted to see your family they were gone. There was something naughty about having the house all to yourself, not worrying about anyone barging in. A smirk spread across your lips whilst shutting your car off, wrapping your lanyard in your palm. Breaking you out of your thoughts was the door slamming, screaming followed behind. It was instinctual to not be nosy, but let's face it. As you slid out of the driver's seat, you slowly reached for the backdoor - peering over to see who exactly was yelling. For a split second you caught the image of a man and woman yelling at one another while a boy and a girl sat in the backseat. Cocking an eyebrow, you leaned forward a bit more to peer out your back window.
Cooper Adams and his wife Rachel were exchanging some very colorful words, your eyes shot wide open at their argument. It felt wrong to listen in, but they didn't have to know. You bit your top lip in anticipation of what he would say next, but before the argument could officially commence, Rachel was slamming the driver’s door - and speeding so fast out of the driveway it left marks across yours. Seeing how close the car got to you made you jump, smacking your head against the roof of the car. Backing out you rubbed the swollen top, holding back tears.
Peering across the street, Cooper ran his hands through his brown locks - tugging hard. There was something sexy about how mad he was, frustrated even - but it hurt your heart. You've known Cooper since you were in college, considering that's when he moved here. All you knew was that he was a firefighter - nothing more and nothing less. There were a few occasions when you found yourself looking for the fire department’s calendars – for research purposes. Mr. October happened to be your favorite. Cooper’s gaze caught yours, showing a bit of embarrassment. He didn't think anyone was around to see what happened. Giving him a sweet wave, you smiled small in condolence at what you witnessed. He didn't return your gesture, remained at the end of your driveway - his hands fixated on his hips. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."
His words pierced deep, something about the low tone sent sparks through your body. The way his broad shoulders squared up to yours. His fucking stance in itself made you want to drop. Those impure thoughts flew through your mind as he stared at the ground, awaiting your response. Catching on you shook your head, leaning back against your car. "Don't be sorry, are you okay?" Cooper saw this as an invitation to move forward, his hands in his front pockets. When he was in front of you, he couldn't look in your eyes - instead focusing on his home. The way he held himself was strict, he was so tense all the time. It was understandable with the line of work he did but this was different, he was frustrated. "I'll be okay - back from school so soon?"
He changed the subject as fast as he sauntered over to you, not wanting to focus on the negative. You shot Cooper a smile as you held your house key from your lanyard, motioning to your car filled with boxes. "I'm officially done, graduated last week." This was the first time you saw Cooper smile since you've been home - heat rushing to your cheeks. In a way you felt as if he was reading you, browsing through your entire life story off of one sentence. Lost in your own train of thought you didn't realize how close he got, his shoulders parallel to yours - boxing you in. His right hand placed on top of the roof, dangerously close to your head. Swallowing down every ounce of dignity you had. His russet brown eyes poured over every inch of you, tracing you through the clothing.
"Congratulations, I hope you got spoiled for that big accomplishment." Honey, that was the best way to describe his tone. Molasses and honey flowing in a splendid river, drowning you with every syllable. His musk - fennel and pine radiating off of him made your stomach flip, muscles contracting. You had no control over your body anymore, it was like a flip was switched. You watched as Cooper trailed his left hand over your arm, dragging his nails against the grain. His right hand fell to your neck, fingers resting at the base whilst his thumb rubbing circles by your throat. With a hard grasp, he pulled you forward - inches away from your face. "Did you get spoiled, sweetheart?”
Words could not form, no matter how hard you tried to muster them out. All you could do was shake your head as a form of no. Both of your hands fell slack to your sides, growing clammy by the second. Cooper was not happy with your answer, pouting playfully as he dug his thumb harder against your neck, causing your breath to hitch. It was a huge accomplishment, but you didn't want people to go out of their way to celebrate it. So, after you went to commencement you had a small lunch with your close family, then went back to your off campus apartment. Nothing too out there, enough to satisfy you. "Will you let me spoil you, and be a good girl?" His words made you weaker, slumping slightly into his touch. You couldn't shake the fight you saw earlier, how angry they both were. This was proof Cooper needed to blow off steam but, you felt guilty. A married man, father of two - you didn't want to intervene. "Baby, I'm getting divorced - that's what the fight was about."
That was enough for you to lean up to his lips, pressing your body flush against his. There was something about being out in the open for everyone to see that made your body burn hotter. There was a chance you could be caught by anyone. Cooper felt it too, but it was too good to stop, you were too intoxicating. His large, calloused hands slid across your lower back to drape around your ass, cupping it like it was the last thing his hands would ever do. Entangled in the pleasure you let a hearty moan slip from your mouth to his, the bulge pressing harder against your thigh. Delicate hands laced their way to the back of Cooper’s neck, scratching over the tender skin. He licked at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Obeying his silent command you parted your lips, bringing your left leg up higher to lace around his waist.
The taste of whipped cream on his breath drove you mad, his scent lingering in your nostrils as he passionately kissed you - growing harder with each motion. You couldn't handle it anymore as you grinded down against his bulge, lightning shooting through your core. Cooper’s hand slid from your throat to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your soft strands. With a single twist of his hand, he yanked your hair back - making you gaze into his eyes. A devilish smirk rested upon his lips, swollen from how hard he made out with you. A small whimper left your mouth, tiny enough to show you turned on you were by his actions. The hand that was once secured to your side pulled your keys out, waving the lanyard in your face. "Lead the way." He smirked, draping the lanyard down the valley of your breast - watching your shudder at the feeling.
You reached up to snatch your keys away, swaying your hips as you headed for the front door. Cooper sat back to watch how your ass shook with every step, wanting to take you right then and there on the lawn. Bringing his hand down he began to palm himself, trying to relieve some of the tension his cock was holding. Out of the corner of your eye you could see it too - causing your core to ignite. To tease him further you arched your back - pushing your ass out enough to wiggle it as you slid your key in. When you least expected it, the hard crack of Cooper’s hand came down across your backside; you swore it echoed through the neighborhood.
The yelp that left your mouth was masked with Cooper’s hand, gripping at your face so hard you felt it against your teeth. Without any more effort you spun the doorknob to the left, kicking it open. Cooper ushered you inside with haste, the hard oak door slamming into its respected slot. You have never seen a man be this passionate, this rough - it made you ache all over. Standing in the foyer of your home, you gulped as you watched Cooper’s eyes blacken. There wasn't an immediate danger lurking between you both, but it felt like it - he looked as if he was going to snap. Biting hard on your first finger, you tried to jet away towards your room - to not avail. It was like Cooper read your mind - knowing exactly what you were going to do. "Now princess, where the hell do you think you're going?"
His large, calloused hand came down on your right wrist - yanking it behind your body as you pushed you into the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room. You could hear the metallic clank of his belt coming undone, groaning at the sound. Prepping yourself for the feeling of his hardened cock against your thigh, you slid your ass out a bit more - only to earn a hearty smack to the reddened flesh. "Fucking Christ, you enjoy being a brat?" The sinister smirk on his lips sent sparkles through your eyes, hearing just how lust filled he was becoming. The cold, smooth leather of his belt slid against your wrist. With a rough tug, Cooper slid your left wrist into the makeshift cuffs - cranking the end of the belt back so your hands were snug. As his fingers left your leather-clad wrists, Cooper came up to lace his fingers through your hair - ever so gently pulling you back to his mouth. His musk invaded your senses as his free hand trailed down your front - paying the softest attention to your throat. You couldn't help but slide your eyes closed at the feeling, wanting more.
Taking you out of your moment was your body being forced away from the wall, pushing you along until you were face to face with the marble countertop. This was new, must have been one of the new renovations. There was a second where Cooper completely let go of you, watching as you stood eyes forward - not daring to look back. The anticipating was killing you; you needed his touch. Sweat slid down your brow as you tried to shake your hair out of your face, letting your heart calm for a minute. The warm grasp of Cooper Adams returned but, in a harsher way. He didn't warn you when he yanked your shorts down, pooling them around your ankles. Without being told you kicked them off, wanting them far away. The cold air of your home ran through the heat produced between your legs, never realizing your panties were discarded as well.
Lost in the thought of how your core ached, Cooper had the advantage - tossing you up onto the new countertop, legs spread wide open. "Is my good girl aching for me?" You couldn't help but chew on your lip at his words, the praise shocking your cunt. Nodding gently, you batted your eyelashes in his direction - watching as his drank up your appearance. His fingertips returned to your thighs, pushing hard into the skin - knowing it was going to bruise tomorrow. Slowly he massaged his fingers upwards, draping them over your inner thighs - ghosting over your hot cunt. It was driving you mad, you needed - wanted his touch, his mouth, his everything.
The bucking of your hips into his hand only caused the fury to set itself onto Cooper, his eyes narrowing to your face. Slamming his right hand onto the countertop next to your thigh, he reached forward with his left to grip at your neck, pulling you fast towards him. "Words, use your words." Your pupils were blown out, no color except black showed. The way your expression held lust only made Cooper grow harder - wanting you more than anything. "Y-yes, Daddy." The name came out with a smirk, eyeing him up and down. Cooper’s grip on your neck got tighter, pressing his plump lips flush against yours. The heat of the kiss made you moan into his mouth, wanting him to know what effect he had on you. As the kiss got deeper he slid his hands away, unbuckling the cuffs on his shirt as he dragged the long sleeve's back, exposing his forearms. Cooper trailed his hands down to his slacks, pulling them off with ease - brief's following right behind. The slap of his erect cock against his stomach made you moan, eyes widening at his size.
"Daddy, y-you're so big..." You couldn't help but stare at his length, the wetness of your core seeping down to the counter. He would break you, split you in half - he will be the biggest cock you have ever taken. There was something ignited in Cooper when your eyes cascaded over his length, his ego growing - knowing he was big. Hearing you say it only made him ache harder. Licking his lips as he pulls back from your mouth, he pulled your ass to the edge of the counter - leaving sloppy kisses on your inner thighs, red marks littering the soft skin. With your hands pressing into your back, all you could do was whimper to Cooper - puppy dog eyes boring into his. "I need you to be loud for Daddy, okay? Don't hold back."
Obeying Cooper’s command, you braced yourself as his hot tongue slid up your seam - flat against your slit. The feeling in itself made you want to jump, stuttering your hips into his mouth. Cooper did not like that, pinning your hips down to the counter with his massive hands. He made sure to never leave your eyes, especially as he bit right where the crease of your pelvis met your thigh - tugging at the skin. You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he dove back into your steaming cunt, lapping at your arousal. Cooper was a pussy eating champ, you fucking knew it just by how he sucked your clit - rolling it in between his teeth and lips. The attention he was paying your nerve bundle made your whole body flop. You couldn't moan, no - screams were leaving your throat. Each swipe of his long tongue had you falling apart - enough to where Cooper slammed you back down onto the counter. The grunt he let out into your cunt made your orgasm approach quickly. Bucking your hips up, you let a string of whimpers slide out, signaling how close you were. "C-Coop
 I-I-I'm gonna...."
"What did you just call me?" Cooper pulled his head back from your thighs, your essence glistening upon his lips. One of his eyebrows cocked in your direction, rubbing little circles into your hips. It was painful how fast your orgasm approached, but not letting it burst. The torture Cooper was pushing onto you made you want to cry. You could help but grind your hips against the air - hoping to at least reach that point you once were at. "Brats don't get to come." He tsked into your ear, biting on your lobe. You couldn't help but pout as you strained yourself, wanting something to help take you to the brink. "D-Daddy please...I-I need your mouth."
Cooper pulled you off of the counter, shaking his head at you. The tears swelling in the corner of your eyes made him soften for a moment, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Even though he was dominating you in everyway you needed, he didn't want to push you into something you may not have wanted. With a stray tear that fell, he made sure to kiss it away - peppering sweet kisses all over your face. Rubbing into his lips, you licked yours - lowering yourself to your knees. Lurching forward you returned his kisses to his hips, thighs and lower stomach - making sure to never break eye contact. "L-Let me make it up to you, Daddy."
Before you could let Cooper respond, you licked one singular line up his shaft - watching at his thick length twitched against your lips. As you came to the top you let your tongue swirl over his swollen tip - lapping up his precum. Cooper couldn't help but slam his eyes shut - wrapping his fingers in your hair to make a ponytail. Opening your mouth all the way, you let Cooper position your mouth over his tip. Nodding in anticipation, Cooper slammed your mouth down onto him - taking him fully in. It was way too much for your to grasp - choking slightly on the girth of him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks out - suctioning tightly around him. "Oh fuck, princess..." He tossed his head back as he moaned out, jetting his hips back into your face.
This was a new sensation for you, never ever being face fucked. With Cooper it felt so natural, your undying hunger strengthened with every thrust. The way his tip slid against the back of your throat made the butterflies in your stomach erupt. You couldn't handle it anymore, feeling your wetness sliding down your weakened thighs. With every bob of your head against Cooper’s cock it shot electricity through your nerves, wanting him more than anything. Through tearful eyes you watched his expression - how his forehead scrunched up, his bottom lip pulled taut between his teeth. He was trying so hard to suppress his moans for you, but it was sexier hearing them. Lightly you dragged your teeth up his shaft, causing him to pan his eyes back down at you. Cooper humped himself into your face with such aggression it made you gag more, spit dripping from your mouth over your clothed chest. As you clamped your eyes shut to breathe through your nose, you felt how his hips stuttered - shooting his creamy rope right down your throat. With weakened thrusts, he slowly started to ease out of you, rubbing his thumb over your wet chin. "Such a good little princess for Daddy, you did a great job." He cooed, placing a kiss to your forehead. The praise shot right into your cunt.
"Now it's Daddy's turn - I want you to cum on my cock. Can princess do that for me?" The eagerness to your nod made Cooper laugh at how adorable it was, helping you up to your feet. As he spun you around like the princess you are, he pressed your face into the cold countertop - it felt so good on your warm cheeks. The feeling of his toned legs kicking your open made you squirm, arching your back ever so slightly for him. Cooper leaned forward, pressing his lips to your shoulder as his cock slides between your folds, gathering your wetness on his shaft. The way he pressed his tip into your clit had you moaning out ripples, it couldn't - no - wouldn't stop. Each slow thrust of his hips caused your body to jolt, not even fully given in yet. Just then, with a snap of his hips - he sheathed his thick cock inside your wet heat. The scream you let out was enough to break the wine glasses sitting on the countertop - it felt so fucking good!
"I bet those college boys couldn't fuck you like Daddy can. Am I right princess?" He didn't give you time to adjust as he plowed into you from behind, scratching his way to your shoulder and back. The pain mixing with pleasure made you rock your entire body against him - wanting to hold and caress his form. Your wrists writhed against the leather belt, still bound from earlier. Cooper saw you struggling - taking that as his cue to release your hands. The way they flopped to your side felt unreal as he demolished your pussy. Gaining your strength back, you pressed against the countertop, pushing your hips back to meet Cooper’s thrust. "N-never, y-y-you fuck me way better, Daddy. I-I can't get enough of your b-big cock!"
Your words had Cooper laughing sinisterly - lust lacing his tone. It became too much to deal with, his dirty words flowing through your brain as his cock hit that spongy spot within you. From the way you were angled you could feel everything. The way his tip punched your cervix without a care, how your walls tightened around his girthy shaft. How with every thrust you felt your entire body come undone. Nothing in life brought you as much bliss as Cooper was, this was your whole world. You have been fantasizing about Mr. Adams ever since you first laid your eyes upon him. Now you had him where you needed, and you were never going to lay off. "Princess, I-I'm gonna-" Before Cooper could finish his sentence, he was coming undone within you. Ropes of his sweet seed painting your walls - this is when you were thankful for having an implanted contraceptive. Feeling his seed shooting in you was enough for your orgasm to spray - drenching his cock with so much force. The moans, groans and whimpers slipping from yourself and Cooper echoed throughout your vacant home - this was the best day of your life.
Cooper pulled out of you with ease, rubbing his gentle fingers across your behind. Every stroke made you weak, feeling like jelly under his grasp. Pulling you upwards to his chest, he swept you up bridal style as he made his way to your living room, seeing the new conversation pit your parents had installed. It was essentially like a giant bed with seats, causing you to laugh lightly into Cooper’s chest. As he stepped down the stairs, he pulled blanket from one of the seats over you both, pulling you closer to him. Turning around to face him, you wrapped your left leg over his, rubbing small circles into the stubble lining his chin. The moment was perfect, too perfect. The way Cooper looked at you with so much admiration and love, made your entire soul flutter. "It was me." He mumbled out, looking at you with no emotion to his words. It was like his body was taken over by an unseen force, his hand going ridged against your side. "What was you?"
He let out a gentle sigh, chewing on the inside of his cheek, never leaving your gaze. He was debating heavily if he should tell you, or leave it alone. But it felt wrong to not let you know. He slid his hand to cup your cheek, kissing you as soft as silk - lingering over your swollen lips. His large hand cupping your back as well, drawing patterns with his thumb as he let those forbidden words out; "Those guys at the frat party, I made them disappear." His words make you go stiff, eyes widening as you realize what he did. The ones who hurt you, who humiliated you earlier last year - Cooper disposed of them. Your breath grew more erratic as you realized what was going on, there was only one question flowing through your brain. "Did you...did you kill them?" It was weird, you should've felt afraid - but you felt the opposite, safe and sound within Cooper Adams’ arms.
"Yes, for you. They were going to get away with what they did to you, and I didn't want that to happen. I wanted them to feel the fear you did. I wanted them to feel the way they made you feel, I only want to protect you from the evil this world holds." Little did you know, Cooper was the evil this world held. He was after all, The Butcher.
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sanguineterrain · 11 hours ago
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holiday spirit | jason todd
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Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 7.2k
Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!
the divider
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You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 
You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancĂ©s, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.
Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 
Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.
So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 
You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 
The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 
"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.
Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 
"Oh my God.”
He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”
"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."
"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.
"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”
"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"
Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."
"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."
He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 
Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."
"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 
"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"
"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 
"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."
You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.
"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."
You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"
Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."
You blink. "What?"
"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."
Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.
five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.
“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.
“Yup. Good eye.”
"This seems... illegal.”
"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”
He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 
"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."
Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"
"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."
"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"
"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."
"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”
He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 
“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”
You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 
“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."
You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.
Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 
Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"
"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"
“Does your left arm hurt?”
“No, but—”
“Are your limbs stiffening?”
“No, but—”
“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”
Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 
It’s quiet for a second. Then— 
“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.
"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 
There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.
"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.
"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling
 not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."
You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"
"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."
So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.
"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.
"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."
You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 
“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”
It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 
“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”
Yeah, but what if you lose your job?
You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”
“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”
“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"
You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.
"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”
"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 
Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh
”
You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”
You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.
“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.
"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.
"What the hell? Why not?"
"Because—"
There's a creak from the back. You wince. 
Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"
He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.
"Would you stop—is someone here?"
"My boyfriend!" you blurt.
Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."
"Well, I have one and he's here."
"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"
"Because he's... um..."
You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 
Oh, this is a terrible idea.
"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.
Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"
"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."
"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."
"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”
Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"
"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.
Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."
He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.
"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 
“How
 do you know his name?”
“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 
"Oh
 yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."
"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."
"What? No! Hood—"
"Oh, relax. I was kidding."
"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"
"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."
Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.
"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”
"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.
"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."
"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”
“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”
“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”
"Well
” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”
“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 
“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”
But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 
Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.
"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."
His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.
"You're pretty crafty," he says. 
"...Thanks?”
Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”
“You will?”
He tilts his head. “Should I not?”
“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”
He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."
"Y-yeah, got it."
Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."
"Who's Roy?"
"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."
He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.
"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 
This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.
But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.
And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?
The door swings open. You turn around.
“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 
“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 
You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 
He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.
“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 
And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 
His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.
“What?” he snaps, glaring.
“Nice eyes,” you blurt.
His brows furrow. You remember the guns.
“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.
Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."
"Okay."
"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."
"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."
"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."
He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.
"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.
"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"
“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”
"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.
"The same one who takes Xanax?”
“Would you believe it?”
You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.
“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 
“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”
“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 
"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."
"Your family doesn't celebrate?"
Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.
The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.
"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."
You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.
"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."
You nod. “Got it.”
“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”
You smile tightly. “As promised.”
A few people wave. Others cheer. 
“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.
“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.
“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”
“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.
“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”
You shrug. “Never came up.”
“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”
“Th-that’s right
 honey,” you say, face going hot.
“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”
You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.
“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”
You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.
“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.
“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”
You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”
“Not like that. Just
 it’ll be handled. Okay?”
You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”
Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”
You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 
Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 
“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”
“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.
You smile. “Glad you like it.”
You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 
Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.
“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”
You can guess exactly how he feels about that.
"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”
"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."
She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."
Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.
But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 
And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 
"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.
"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"
"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."
He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.
"Thank you for that," you say.
Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."
"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."
"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”
You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”
"And where is she?"
"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."
"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.
"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"
He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.
“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”
“So?”
He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 
It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 
“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 
Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 
“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 
“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”
“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”
His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”
“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 
Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 
You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 
“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”
The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 
He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”
“No, some people mixed it here.”
“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.
“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 
“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 
“That's what I say!” 
He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 
The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 
And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 
"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"
One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 
Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.
"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"
Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.
"No pictures," he says.
You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.
"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"
"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"
The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"
"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.
As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.
"Wow," you say.
"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."
You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.
"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."
Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.
"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.
"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"
"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.
Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"
"Yeah
” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”
"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."
You two go off to the side while Hood dials.
"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?
"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 
"Why?”
“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”
“Zombie breath.”
“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 
“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”
“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”
“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.
You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.
"Who's that?" the voice asks.
"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"
"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”
“It’s the TV,” Hood says.
“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know
”
“Mind your damn—”
“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 
Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”
“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”
“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.
You look at each other for a moment. 
“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”
“Got it.” 
“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about
” 
His phone beeps. You look around the room. 
Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!
Holy shit. 
"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."
"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.
"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"
"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"
"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 
You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 
Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 
“Hood!” you whisper. 
“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 
Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”
And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 
You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 
You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 
Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 
“Y’alright?” he asks. 
“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”
He lets go. You shift on your feet. 
“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 
Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”
The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 
“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 
You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 
The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 
“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”
The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”
You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.
“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”
As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 
“What is that?” you hiss. 
“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not
”
He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 
“That wasn’t—”
“I didn’t—”
You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 
“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 
Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh
”
“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”
“Yup. Find Matt?” 
“Absolutely.” 
You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.
“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 
“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 
“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 
“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”
“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 
“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.
“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”
He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 
Fifteen Minutes Later.
“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 
“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 
“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 
Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 
“Almost there!” he says. 
“Hey! What're you doing?” 
You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 
An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal
 though after tonight, you're not so sure. 
“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”
The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 
“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”
Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 
The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 
The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 
“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”
He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”
“And I commend you for that.” 
“Are you sassing me?” 
Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 
Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 
“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”
The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 
You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?
Bang!
You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 
Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 
“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 
Shoot? Oh no.
You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 
Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 
You can't just leave him there. 
Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 
Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 
Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 
You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.
“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.
That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 
“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 
“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”
Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”
“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”
Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 
He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”
“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 
You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 
You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?
“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 
“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”
“Then we'll take care of her too.”
Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 
“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”
Candy? Why would—oh!
On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 
“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.
You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 
“Are you o—”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 
“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”
You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.
“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 
“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  
Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 
Matt fires four more shots. 
“Fuck you, cop!” 
“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”
“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 
Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 
“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”
You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”
“I’d take it as a compliment.”
Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 
“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 
“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”
“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 
“What?”
Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 
“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”
He ignores you, of course. 
“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”
And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 
“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 
“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 
Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 
Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 
“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 
You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 
“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 
“Yeah.”
It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 
He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 
“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”
“You let go of the hook?”
You stop. “Um. No?” 
Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 
“I knew you were inside the office!”
“Yeah, sure.” 
“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”
“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”
“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 
“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 
You laugh. “I already think that.”
Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.
“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 
“With pleasure.”
“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.
“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 
You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 
There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 
“Hood
 what did you do?” 
“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”
“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 
“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”
You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”
“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well
”
You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 
Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 
“So—”
“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”
“Hood
”
He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”
“And what would I owe you?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”
You open and close your mouth. “I don't
 I don't know what to say.”
“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”
“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”
“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”
“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”
Hood nods. “Deal.”
You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.
“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”
He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”
You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”
“Oh, I will. Will you?”
He laughs. “No promises.” 
Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 
In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.
203 notes · View notes
itsmelodramasblog · 7 months ago
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EUROVISION
━━━━ joost klein x f! reader (using a face claim, but you can use your imagination to change her look to anyone you want to)
( social media ) before & during eurovision ; a bit of angst (mention of hate, body shaming etc) ; fluff ; reader isn’t a celebrity; everything is fictional
yourusername
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liked by joostklein, wer.ist.aggu and 650 others
yourusername: another day another year with this dude, what will happen if three years ago i wouldn’t had told you that you had shit on your shoe đŸ˜»đŸ‘
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wer.ist.aggu: wow! great pictures! great people 😅😄
yourusername: i support this guy right there! 👍👍👍 once i told him that i gave him once two euro and asked if he could return it to me, cause it’s been tough with money lately đŸ«ŁđŸ˜đŸ™đŸ˜… and he gave me one euro without hesitation! đŸ˜Č very nice guy 😁👍đŸ’ȘđŸ’ȘđŸ’ȘđŸ”„â€Œïž
wer.ist.aguu: no problem 😉
joostklein: very nice pics, very relatable peace
yourusername
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liked by joostklein, appiemussa and 1420 others
yourusername: stream friesenjung and support small businesses! 😄😅
view all comments:
user1: love the song!! new idol
joostklein: great song
joostklein: thanks
joostklein: np
user2: girl can you stfu
user3: isn’t he gay?
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joostkleinnews
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liked by user4 and 24 567 others
joostkleinnews: some mysterious girl was spotted yesterday at the stage with joost, she was mostly helping the audience. do you think it’s y/n?
view all comments
user5: it must be her, cause after the concert i spotted them together
user6: girl- where you stalking them or wtf
user7: gosh, now im not surprised she don’t post her pics
user8: lmaoo true
user9: idk what y’all talking about, she’s super pretty
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stuntje
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liked by joostklein, yourusername and 5300 others
stuntje: really nice eurovision let’s go đŸ˜»
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yourusername: really nice people, really cool song i support 👍
stuntje: im gonna cry now
joostklein: 😉
user10: how can i block y/n comments? 😭
user11: real
joostkleinnews
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liked by user12 and 56 878 others
joostkleinnews: y/n spotted on joost instagram story
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user13: lmaoo why she always have this bitch look like girl, you’re trying too hard
user14: exactly!! like you’re no one important so stop
user15: god hate her, joost can be with someone better, someone who will be happy that she’s a part of his life
user16: yes! she doesn’t deserve him
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yourusername
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liked by joostklein, stuntje and 5718 others
yourusername: this dude will win this freaking contest, mark my words.
comments are turned off
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joostklein
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liked by yourusername, appiemussa and 332 098 others
joostklein: after first rehearsals, let’s win this eurovision together (with my beautiful support)
view all comments
appiemussa: oh, you are beautiful too đŸ„°
yourusername: we love gay energy
yourusername: love you, will always be your number one fan 💙
user17: aww cuties
user18: love them sm (im sorry y/n for what you needed to go through, but we love you)
yourusername: 💙
423 notes · View notes
mwahsturns · 8 months ago
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📝 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - MATT STURN┊OLO
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professor!matt sturniolo x student!reader
Contains: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing/A lot of praise/teasing/flirting/pet names/ unprotected sex/aftercare/fluff. Semi-proof read! And I think that’s it let me know if there’s more.
Synopsis: you’re an 18 year old freshman in college and you’ve always been in love with writing, your whole life you’ve always been hiding behind your books and your writing. You decided you wanted to go to college because you knew you wanted to become something with your writing, you’ve always had big dreams about your work and you knew you could do it. But one day you find out your regular professor had quit his job because of an injury and you were getting a new teacher. What happens when the new professor offers to get you a head making sure you make it where you need to be?, and you end up fucking your new professor.. Mr sturniolo.
Author’s note: i’m doing a collab with @iluvmattsbeard! go check out her version of the reader being the professor! this is my version where Matt is being the professor! i’m so so excited I had the opportunity of working on this with her. she is so so sweet and absolutely talented. i want everyone to show her some love and support because she deserves it! And please enjoy. 💗
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* *:ïœ„ïŸŸâœ§đŸ©*:✧
Today has been interesting to say the least, our regular teacher professor Charles quit due to an injury in his knee causing him to have surgery and he probably won’t be able to walk again. I as I walked into the classroom I see I’m the only student here, as I’m putting my stuff down I hear someone walk in.
I swear I felt my heartbeat when I looked behind me, there he was professor sturniolo I only know his name because it’s on his desk but not the point. God he looked so fucking sexy his hair wasn’t messy but it looked so effortlessly fluffy and he had these black glasses that framed his face perfectly, he also had a little blue ish button up shirt but it was slightly opened to where you could see his gold chain. He had some rings on and a watch on his right hand, his beige pants perfectly showed his cock just looking made my mouth water.
Fuck his beard too god this man was a whole walking sex object, I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts by his voice. ‘Hey your early” he says smiling ‘yea I’m always early’ I place my bag on my chair and sit on top of my desk with my leg placed on to of the other one. I noticed him look me up and down and I looked and saw my skirt has lifted a little bit. I was wearing a black and white long sleeve shirt, my cleavage Showing as my necklace sits perfectly on my chest. My skirt was short and plaid with some short sorta see through white socks and some black buckled heals.
‘Cute outfit” he winks and goes to write the agenda on the board, I smile and turn on my heels and sit on my desk and nibble on my pen smirking as I watched him. Eventually everyone started walking into the class and my best friend heather ran over to me and sitting next to me, ‘dude the new professor is so sexy!’ She smiles and as takes her books out, ‘I know we talked this morning’ I smirk as I take a sip of my water. ‘No wonder you’re in the front of the class’ we laugh as we hear professor sturniolo start to speak.
‘Okay guys so as you know professor Charles is out so I’m your new teacher, I’m Mr sturniolo and today’s assessment should be easy you need to write a short story about anything you’d like and share it to the class.’ He smiles and writes it on the board, ‘you guys have the next hour to write it then I’ll have all of you share yours with the class’ oh I got this in the bag I thought as I started writing.
————
The hour is up and he stands in front of the class as he gets ready to announce who goes first, I feel him starting at me as he starts to smirk. ‘You first’ he smirks as he tilts his head looking deeply into my eyes, ‘’me?’ I say confused. ‘Your names Y/n isn’t it?’ He says sassily, ‘yes sir it is’ I say with the same amount of sas ‘well then the floors yours’ he smiles and sits at his desk. I grab my paper and walk the the front of the class flatting my shirt as I begin to read, ‘We shall start with a secret couple, their names is professor Lucas, and a student named Sophia. The two are secretly in love but has yet to expose it to the world so let’s dive deep into their life styles before things get intimate
’ I say smiling as I continue to read.‘Sofia is a very pretty girl, amazing personality, great style, she is a phenomenal actress and she has a great judge of Character and if we need to speak about her body we can say that she has some amazing ideal curve and her face sits perfectly.
‘Professor Lucas is a great guy with amazing humor and he does a phenomenal job at teaching, (that’s what turns Sophia on) he cares for his class and he truly is the person you couldn’t hate even if you tried. Jumping in Sophia walks into lecture hall, looking a little bit more Expensive or extravagant, she is wearing her Golden necklace that says her name in a cursive writing a white button up long sleeve crop top tied at the bottom with a tripled white skirt and some white heals. (she truly loves the color white, she feel it enhances her look more) as sophia Is carrying her books, Professor Lucas takes notice and says ‘ah Ms Raven, please have a seat in the front for me.’ He says pointing out the seat closes to him smiling. Sophia walks down to take a seat and sets her notebooks down and gets her Mac-book out of her bag to place it elegantly on her desk.
Professor looked down and said ‘good morning sweetheart, why are you late?’ As Sophia looks up into his amazing beautiful emerald eyes and smiled saying ‘I woke up late sir’ she knows calling him Sir makes him feel respected and satisfied, ‘hmm see me after class young lady
’ as he continues the lecture. As the day goes on classes come to an end, which reminds Sophia to go meet with professor. As she arrived she placed a firm knock on the door and patiently waited for him to come and answer, in less than a minute the professor answered the door and said ‘Ms raven please come in’ as he smiled looked outside the door before closing it too lock it. He looked at her with a romantic expression. ‘I want us to get intimate, we’ve been kissing secretly hanging out for a while but now, I want to show you that I’m ready for another step and that is showing you that I want to dominate you and show you how much I love you in a different way’ ‘I’d figure you’d get the hook’ the professor looks confused when she says that and says ‘what do you mean?’ As he steps a little closer toward her, ‘I mean I’ve been wearing the slutty things to lure you in or to make you want to fuck me, I wanted to show you that I’m ready for the next step but I was just to afraid to ask.’
The professor steps closer to her them almost touching noses as he says ‘Mama you don’t gotta be nervous or afraid, if you want me to give it to you just ask me. I won’t even hesitate’ professor says as he slowly cuffed her Chin and pulled her into an intimate kiss inhaling deeply as it escalated.
Sophia continues the kiss for a few more moments before breaking it wrapping her hand in his tie, ‘I want you’ sounding a little breathless turning the professor on more. ‘I know you do baby’ the professor said gently brushing his hand down the side of her face, ‘lay down, and open your legs for me’ Sophia proceeds to do so as the professor smiled and watched, As she finished doing what he asked he then spoke ‘good girl’ as he then walked closer to her then sliding his fingers up her inner thigh to tease her already wet pussy. he rubbed his thumb around her clitoris teasing even more before gently sliding off her white see through lingerie panties. He took off his shirt revealing his soft skin and muscular chest.
sniffing the panties and throwing them to the side, he licked his middle and ring finger before rubbing her clitoris once again before loosing his belt and took of his cargo baggy black jeans revealing his huge cock print in his underwear. he took her hand and rubbed it around his print moaning and groaning a little. And just know you aren’t going nowhere
.’ As I finished reading this class started clapping, I look at Matt to see him smirking arms crossed god he looks perfect.
‘Great job mrs L/N and um can you see me after class?’ I smiled and nodded my head as I walked back to my seat.
———-
Class ended and I’m packing up my stuff as I hear heather start talking, ‘girl your paper was so good like ugh i felt the emotion and I think professor sturniolo liked it too’ she winks putting on her backpack. ‘Who knows but I’ll see you after?’ ‘Duh ofc you will’ I laugh putting on my backpack, soon everyone leaves and I walk up to the professors desk. ‘You wanted to speak with me?’ I say smiling, ‘yea I did um your writing is so excellent your a very talented young lady’ he smiled leaning forward on the desk. ‘Well it is my specialty’ I smirk ‘mmh we’ll keep up the good work’ he smiles packing up his stuff ‘Will do!’ I laugh as I leave his class.
professor Sturniolo has been here for about two weeks now and to say I’ve got him wrapped around my finger is an understatement to say the least, he’s has been favoriting me for weeks now always giving me extra credit and pushing back deadlines for me I didn’t think anything of it until now.
‘Girl he’s so into you!’ Heather says as we enter the empty class, ‘I don’t know..’ I mean if that was true god it would fuel my sexual fantasies so much. ‘I’m telling you it’s a matter of time before he fucks you’ heather and I take our seats up front as professor sturniolo walks in, ‘good morning Y/N morning heather’ he says giving me this irresistible look that makes me just want him ‘Good morning’ I smile.
As I’m writing our notes for an essay coming up in feel him walk up to my desk as he wisphers in my ear ‘see me after class’ he says as he walks back to his desk. I can’t lie that did make me aroused I know it’s wrong but it also feels right.
————
As everyone left the class I see the smirk growing on his face as the class grows empty. Once the class is completely empty he stands up from his chair and leaned his back against his desk as his arms were crossed, ‘you know you’re a very special young lady..’ ‘mmh you think’ I smirk teasing him a little. ‘I do.. very much the work you’ve turned in has been exceptional your writing style is remarkable..” he walks over to my desk and leans down to my ear. ‘And i must say you’re a very beautiful girl..”
‘Thank you, I appreciate it’ I smile as he basically towers over me, ‘so you got a boyfriend?’ He says as he runs his hand through my hair ‘no.. what about you got a girlfriend or a wife?’ I say looking up at him. ‘Oh no it’s just me’ I mentally take note of that even though it shouldn’t matter to me ‘look your very talented and happen to be very beautiful and I want you to be more than just a basic writer you can be so much more’ he says sitting on the desk next to me ‘I know I’ve always believed I can do it I just wasn’t even sure how to start’ honestly I’m lying I know exactly why he’s saying all of this but I just wanna see how far he’ll take things.
‘Well how about this .. you help me and I’ll make sure you get right where you need to be’ he smirks ‘okay but how will I help you?’ I already know what he wants I just wanna tease him a little I’ve seen way to many teacher and student movies and books to not know. ‘What if you let me teach you a few things mmh? Fuck I can’t lie that did make me a little wet ‘mmh like what?’ I tease standing in his face, next thing I know I’m picked up and placed on his desk.
‘Let me please you..’ he says kissing my neck harshly. I can’t deny as the kiss gets longer the more I’m starting to crave more. He started kissing lower down my neck placing open mouthed kisses onto my breast, i tugged on his hair as his hand slid down into my skirt. ‘Well look at that my perfect student getting all wet for her professor huh such a slut..’ he says as he pulls down my skirt and my underwear harshly.
I bite my lip as I see him spit on his fingers I don’t know what has gotten into me but right now I need him in me, he takes his fingers and slide them into my dripping pussy as he gives me no time to adjust he fingers me very rough.
‘Oh my- fuck’ I moan throwing my head back biting my lip, ‘mmh feels good doesn’t it? He looks like a kid in a candy store the way he’s looking at my vagina right now. ‘fuck yes.’ He smiles at my response and stands up pulling his pants and boxers off and holy shit he’s fucking big.
‘That’s supposed to fit in me?!’ I actually am now kinda nervous, ‘mmh I’ll make it fit’ he walks back over to the desk and pulls my legs forward and now I’m laying down on his desk legs wide open how the fuck did I get here?. He slides into me and I swear to god I saw stars fuck he felt so good, ‘fuck your so tight’ he moaned pounding into me like he was getting a fucking pay check.
‘Oh fuck sir omg..’ I moaned maybe a little too loudly, ‘fuck-please call me Matt’ he tried to say as he let out a choked groan. God his name makes this 10x hotter. ‘Fuck Matt I’m so close’ I moan, ’yea cum on this dick baby’ his thrust getting faster but more deeper.
‘Fuck I’m gonna cum!’ I screamed ‘me too baby let it out mama’ he moaned as I came all over his dick and I felt his warm cum fill me. ‘Fuck you did so good for me’ he smiled kissing my lips softly, ‘I don’t think I can walk..’ ‘it’s okay I’ll clean you up’ he walks to his desk and gets a rag and wipes both of us down. Once were cleaned up and I’m standing he walked up to me and smiled. ‘Well I guess I’ll be fucking you more often huh?’ I smiled ‘oh definitely’.
I smiled and walked out of the classroom fuck he better give me a good grade for that.
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A/n: I hope you enjoyed plus Don’t hate this is my first smut ever so I’m so so sorry if it’s bad pls leave some tips in my inbox!
Taglist!
@iluvmattsbeard @m9ttsverse
(COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED ONTO MY TAG LIST!)
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago
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I worry about you (Clingy!Yandere x Delinquent!Reader)
CW: body trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior
"I don't understand, why are you saying these things?!" Everett shouted, tugging on (Reader's) jacket like a man fearful of drowning. The two stood at the top of a set of wooden outdoor stairs built into a steep hill in the city's little hiking trail/park, a meeting spot where they often hung out after school.
His brown eyes glowed under the sun like molten gold, churning with heartache as he held onto his only friend.
(Reader) kept their face rigid like stone, fighting the desire to retract what they had said, their decision was final. It was for Everett's own good. "Dude, stop acting crazy. You're acting like we were dating. I'm just saying that I need space. Go make other friends, go on dates, I don't care. Jesus, just stop hanging onto me all the time."
Lies, all lies. I don't mind how clingy you are. I love that you stay by my side. I know I have a shit personality, I know I'm trash, so I really appreciate that you're the only one to stay my friend. You've been my friend since we were ten years old, so please, PLEASE, fucking take the hint. I've seen that the teachers have started to treat you differently just because you're my friend. And how many times do I have to rescue you from wannabe thugs who only fuck with you because they hate me? You deserve better than that.
You deserve better than me.
(Reader) roughly shook their only friend off their arm. It was painful now, for both of them, but (Reader) knew it was for the best.
"But why? What did I do wrong?" Everett sniffled, rubbing his eyes as the waterworks persisted. (Reader) turned to leave, unable to watch Everett any longer without their resolve crumbling. "WAIT!" Everett panicked, reaching out to latch onto (Reader's) arm again. (Reader) felt his fingers brush against their arm, and threw back their elbow to push Everett away.
They didn't know, however, that Everett had stepped forward. (Reader) misjudged how hard to push, not knowing that Everett was closer than he was just a second ago. Their wrist smashed into Everett's chest, causing him to stumble backwards, and tumble down the stairs.
Eyes widening in fear, (Reader) immediately began sprinting down the steps, skipping two at a time on the way down as their friend bounced against the weathered wood, hitting the dirt at the bottom hard. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like they would have a heart attack as they jumped the last couple stairs, crouching over their best friend crying in the fetal position.
"Everett, oh my God, are you okay?!" They gingerly scooped his upper half into their lap, examining his head for injuries.
"My- my arm..." Everett cradled his arm, crushing (Reader) further with guilt.
Placing his head down carefully, (Reader) took off running, calling out for help in hopes that someone nearby had a phone to call an ambulance. They disappeared out of Everett's sight, hearing them hollering as they ran away.
As soon as (Reader) vanished from view, Everett stopped crying, sitting up miserably. How did this happen?
Everything had been going so perfectly. Everett had set himself up as a weak, innocent best friend for (Reader), tailoring his personality for the past eight years to ensure that (Reader) would never leave him. When his family uprooted his life at the age of ten, he already knew there was no chance of happiness in his future. It was hard enough convincing anyone at his old school to like a freak like him, but being a new kid on top of having a personality that for some reason pushed everyone away? Everett knew it was hopeless.
But it seemed fate had other plans for him. The very first day in the new home Everett attempted to climb the large tree in his fenceless backyard and slipped, falling out of one of the lower branches. It hadn't hurt all that much, really just stinging a bit, but he didn't have time to even sit up before his new neighbor was rushing over to help him, having witnessed the fall from their back window. (Reader) was an angel, the summer sunlight illuminating their form like a halo. They didn't waste a second, pulling Everett's body onto their back, struggling under his weight but forcing their tiny muscles to carry Everett to his parents. It didn't even hurt, and Everett was more than capable of walking on his own, but having someone his own age care about him for the first time in his entire ten years of life.. he played into it, relishing in the attention he was receiving, forcing large crocodile tears out in hopes (Reader) would stay by his side longer. And it worked.
It worked for eight years, so why were they pushing him away now?
He constantly allowed himself to trip in front of (Reader), embarrassing himself over and over to keep them paying attention to him. Even now, throwing himself backwards down a flight of stairs while making it look like an accident, just to prevent (Reader) from leaving him.
Unfortunately, nothing was actually broken on him. He glanced around, finding a rock almost too large to grasp in one hand. Unlike when they were children, Everett didn't believe crying would be enough to keep (Reader) by his side. He rolled up the sleeve on the arm he pretended was broken, biting down onto the front of his hoodie. It didn't matter if (Reader) was only with him out of guilt, it only mattered that they were with him.
Everett smiled through gritted teeth, thinking about (Reader) sitting next to him in the hospital, refusing to leave his side for even a second, then brought the heavy rock down onto his arm with an audible crack.
Please continue worrying about me.
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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 10 months ago
Note
Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...
Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.
I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.
I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-
Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3
-đŸ“œ
Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!
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Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]
When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.
At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.
You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.
One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.
For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.
"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"
Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."
Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."
It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.
He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.
Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.
Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.
Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.
He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...
"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.
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And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:
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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago
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Steve watches as Eddie drops the shield clumsily, just lets it fall into the grass. His hand—it’s not shaking, exactly, but there’s a delay to everything, to the way his fingers curl, like even the smallest movement takes so much effort.
Steve knows the feeling: when the whole world feels like wading through molasses.
Eddie comes to sit next to him, thunks the back of his head against the RV and winces. “Ow.”
Steve smiles. “We’ve got time, y’know.”
Eddie gives him a blank look. The shadows under his eyes are practically sunken in. “Time?”
Steve gestures out to the distance, where the kids are still playing, where Nancy and Robin are re-counting the supplies he’d noted down earlier. “Reckon you’ve got an hour or so, if you wanna get your head down.”
Eddie snorts. “Ah, sleep,” he says, with a wry smile. “What’s that?”
“Come on, man,” Steve says. “Gotta take any opportunity you can. Don’t want you collapsing before we flambĂ© Vecna.”
Eddie mouths Vecna to himself a couple of times, blows out a breath. “God, my life
 my life is fucking crazy.”
Steve chuckles slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“You’re used to all of this shit, though. Lemme guess, you can sleep just like that?”
“Hmm, not always,” Steve says, which
 well, Eddie doesn’t know enough, he reasons, to realise just what an understatement that is.
Eddie sighs again. He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the RV—doesn’t look comfortable at all.
Steve moves closer, gently nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Hey.”
Eddie’s eyes open with prolonged, heavy blinks. “Hmm?”
Steve pats his shoulder in invitation. Eddie lets out an exhausted laugh. “Oh, my life just got even crazier.”
“What? It’s a perfectly good shoulder, dude, I dunno what to tell you.” Steve grins when Eddie keeps laughing. “It’s not bony or anything.”
“That so?” Eddie says, rubs at his eyes with a lingering smile. “You got good reviews?”
“Glowing. Five stars.”
Steve thinks about all the times he’s been a pillow for Robin or Dustin—Max, too, on the seldom few times he’s wheedled until she just took a damn nap, even if it was only for ten minutes.
He taps his shoulder again, goes quiet, more serious. “You’re dog-tired, Eddie. Come on, just ten minutes. Then you can trash my stupid shoulder all you want.”
Eddie just looks at him, considering. Then he huffs, glances upwards as if to say Fine, you win. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.”
And with some hesitancy, he tips his head down to the side and settles on Steve’s shoulder.
He’s tense still; Steve can feel it.
“Y’know, one of the best naps I ever had was ‘cause of you,” Steve says conversationally.
Eddie makes a disbelieving noise.
“It’s true. Uh, Winter ‘84, the period just after lunch, I think? Damn, can’t even remember what class it
 Anyway, you were giving the teacher shit ‘cause of some test result, you just kept going, it was incredible. No work got done; I just put my head on my desk and slept, and no-one even noticed.”
Eddie chuckles, slumps a little more. “That’s
” And he yawns. “That’s depressing, man. You saying me going on and on was relaxing?”
“Yeah, like one of those meditation tapes. Except, uh, more aggressive.”
Steve feels more than sees Eddie smile. “You’re so dumb.” He hums tiredly, his head resting heavier and heavier on Steve’s shoulder. Voice small, he says, “Keep talking?”
So Steve does.
He keeps up a constant, one-sided conversation, speaking softly. Talks about what they’ll all do after this—mostly nothing, because everyone deserves a goddamn extended Spring Break, he’s decided.
And Eddie sleeps. He doesn’t twitch like Robin, and his head doesn’t nod forward like Dustin—like he’s reached such a level of fatigue that he can only be still. His breathing is deep and heavy in a way that Steve knows only comes from a rare, utterly dreamless sleep.
Steve just sits there for way more than an hour, doesn’t care when his back begins to protest at how unmoving he is. It’s only as the sun begins to set, as the group just begins to head back to the RV, when he reluctantly nudges Eddie.
“Hey. Hey, Eddie. Sorry. Time to get up.”
Eddie mumbles something, barely lifts his head before returning it to Steve’s shoulder. “Hmm
 five more minutes?”
Steve sighs through a little laugh. Feels suddenly emotional for reasons he can’t fully explain. God, I wanna give you forever.
“Sure, yeah. Five minutes.”
But Eddie rouses after just a minute or two. Sits up and stretches. His eyes look a little brighter, his face no longer quite as grey.
“You were right, man,” he says lightly, gives Steve’s shoulder an endearing little pat. “It’s a nice shoulder. Gotta take good care of that.”
And his hand lingers there, holds on like he did when they were huddled round the Lite Brite. Like he’s saying Take care of yourself, instead.
Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand as he shrugs. “You get first dibs on it, when this is over,” he says.
And he means Come back.
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amberjazmyn · 5 months ago
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perhaps one dayđŸ«¶
pairing : charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary :  five times the formula 1 grid think charles leclerc has proposed to reader + the one time he actually has
warnings :  literally none, it's fluff, it's cheese, it's cute and it's love
a/n : the title is the worst i've ever come up with so if anyone has anything better, let me know i beg! also, fun fact, before i've put this up on my tumblr, this was actually my first ever f1 piece i had ever written! so i have no idea why i never posted it at the beginning but here it is now!
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one
carlos sainz, f1 driver for ferrari and teammate of charles leclerc was certain. absolutely sure, completely convinced that charles, your boyfriend, popped the question. he was like, ten million percent sure. although he wasn't equipped with "evidence" per se, he started to pick up what he thought were tell-tale signs that gave him the impression that charles had put a ring on it. 
the f1 driver was so sure of himself that, he told max verstappen from red bull and the two mclaren drivers, oscar piastri and lando norris. telling them both that the proposal must have happened over their summer break between gp's. the break that, obviously, was never really a proper break. 
"...just look at them you three! i swear to god, charles has proposed," carlos almost squeals, watching the way you two were all over each other, speaking french to one another
"come on now, dude. you could be overreacting--" 
"--in fairness, look at her left hand, she's clearly covering it. it has to be a ring!" max inserts, causing a slight scare for carlos, lando and oscar, worrying that you and charles could have overheard
"and how would you know, max?" lando sassed, oscar and carlos' eyes widening as max chuckled
"isn't it obvious, lando? her left hand is hidden because she wants to tell us rather than us finding it out beforehand," max touches his nose which make carlos, lando and oscar giggle
however, it wasn't until kelly, max's own girlfriend, walked past that shut down the rumours of a potential f1 wedding on its way.
"oh meu deus oh my god. you guys are crazy. the reason why she's hiding her left hand is because, if you guys really paid attention, you would know she has always rested her right hand over her left one. she isn't engaged and charles hasn't proposed to her. you are crazy you boys i swear," kelly chuckled, shaking her head which made oscar, carlos and lando down in the dumps whereas max just chuckled
it wasn't until after you and charles finished chatting each other up in french that you realised that the entire time, max, oscar, carlos, lando and kelly had all been bickering. bickering about what they thought was your proposal that they had completely missed because it was done in secret. 
in which, to clarify, did not happen. kelly was right, the "tell" of you being engaged because you were hiding your left hand was false. you have always hidden your left hand by covering it with your right hand if you leave it resting on a table. 
two
it was a wednesday, middle of the week and the monaco grand prix had just finished. it had been a great result for your boyfriend charles and ferrari. not just a great result but life-changing result. both charles and carlos were on the podium however, it was charles in first place, finally his home win and breaking the monaco curse, mclaren's oscar piastri in second place with carlos in third place. now, it was like they all deserved a full three-day weekend of rest. not just the top three on the podium but all the drivers. although charles was on top of the world that he had finally won his hometown race and is already normally quite flustered, this wednesday, he was even more flustered then usual. it felt like he was running around the paddock like a headless chicken looking for something in the ferrari garage. 
"you good cabron? what are you looking for?" carlos questioned, he was also in the garage as he was resting after doing media with some reporters about the results of the race 
"mamma mia my goodness...yeah...i'm taking y.n for a weekend trip and i printed off our booking for it but, i can't seem to find it," he mutters quite sloppish, his english all over the place after muttering in italian under his breath, continuing to look for it
"ay, that's exciting. where to, any particular reason why?" carlos teases as he moves to lean against the wall 
stopping his search for a second, charles sighed in agitation, "france cause i know she's always wanted to go back after we spent a day there a little while ago. i booked a little air bnb, i printed the booking info like moments ago and now i can't find it!" he was getting angrier, his accent really coming through and for once, carlos didn't want to instigate him 
carlos smiles, noticing it was at a completely different printer, "questa informazioni sulla prenotazione?" he says as he picks it up and hands it to the younger driver who breaths a sigh of relief this booking info
"grazie mille, carlos! i lov...you are my favourite person in the world right now other than y.n!" charles thanks in italian before switching back to english, feeling himself calm down which is when, of course, carlos instigates him with hints of a marriage proposal thank you so much, carlos!
"sooo, with the holiday getaway this weekend, what's it for...you know, anything special other than just because y.n's wanted to return for ages?" carlos teased as charles turned back around and gave carlos what would be classified as a "stank face" 
"ummm, no...no...we're going because y.n's genuinely been wanting to go back to france and i thought we have the time and the money so, we're going for the weekend...why are you asking?" charles gave a look of confusion as carlos just nodded his head in embarrassment 
carlos started backing away when charles jogged after him, the booking for the holiday in his hands, "why are you asking, carlos? smettila di scappare!" thankfully, carlos hadn't run too far as he laughed slightly, obeying charles' italian plea stop running away!
"ay, i just thought you guys were going to come back with a special announcement but, don't worry, it's clearly not that and i apologise for jumping to a conclusion that is obviously not happening. have a great holiday you two. make sure you send us some photos after knowing that you won't be texting or calling us at all," carlos chuckled as that seemed to satisfy charles and he smiled back, nodding 
"lo farĂČ, carlos. the photos will be sent from y.n's phone not mine. have a good weekend yourself, don't do anything i wouldn't do," charles smiled, his bag across his shoulder as carlos smiled back will do, carlos
"i will, grazie. see you tuesday then but truly we can't be too sure because as we know from past situations, f1 don't really like the idea of taking holidays!" carlos chuckled as charles nodded his head before leaving whilst carlos didn't i will, thanks
and that was because, hidden away behind the ferrari garage wall where carlos was leaning against, was lando, oscar and max, all waiting to see if carlos got the information about the "proposal". 
"and, carlos? what did he say? will there be a ring on y.n's finger when they come back?" lando tried, a look of hope in his eyes as carlos just shook his head, max chuckling 
"no, sorry guys. just a holiday to france because y.n wanted to visit again. and, before you ask, yes, i did subtly ask but, no, there will be no ring on her finger when they get back..." carlos trailed off as lando groaned in annoyance as carlos, oscar and max's eyes grew wide in shock
"...oh come on! i really thought it would be this time!" lando was truly devastated that his best friend wouldn't be getting proposed to as carlos, oscar and max, again, giggled 
"sorry buddy but, i think mr ferrari's waiting for a specific day if he has even thought about it," max shrugged as carlos nodded his head and left the ferrari garage, leaving oscar and lando with one last thing 
"and if he is, we shouldn't be pushing it or hounding him over it. he'll do it when they are both ready for it!" max says whilst walking out of the ferrari garage 
lando and oscar share looks of, even though they hated it, they couldn't help but agree with max's statement. if it hadn't happened this time and the time before, it's clear that it's not happening just yet. because, one, either charles and y.n hadn't talked about it yet or, they simply aren't ready for it since they were still in their early 20s. 
three
by the third time that lando, carlos, oscar and max thought that charles proposed, the wag's (including kelly) and now danny ric was even watching, looking for any new tells, max now less interested in the bets and rumours. new tells that could possibly tell them if charles had proposed yet or not. and, obviously, because it's the f1 grid, there is at least three different bets going on all at the same time. which makes no sense clearly but, to them it makes sense. 
this time it was lily zneimer, oscar's girlfriend, that noticed something that could have been possibly a little off for charles. he had a little bag on the couch in the ferrari garage. whilst it wasn't out in plain sight, it wasn't being hidden either. so, lily just decided to go for it and straight up ask him what it was. 
"hey, charles, what's in the bag?" lily questioned, a little giddy glint in her eye
charles smiled, making eye contact with lily, "oh, um *shy chuckle* it's just an anniversary gift..." he trailed off nervously, hoping she wasn't close by 
lily felt her shoulders deflate. she knew she should've have felt a little sad that it wasn't likely an engagement ring. but, she still couldn't believe that it had so quickly got to their anniversary. 
"what is it? some jewellery? how many years is it now, charles?" lily no longer cared about the bet or the possibility of an engagement and wedding
she just cared that charles and y.n were still so head over heels in love with each other. even though she knew they'd never fall out of love with one another, especially considering they were dating before and when oscar had joined f1 quite recently, just last year in 2023. 
"oh, just a matching necklace and earrings set. we've been dating for like, four years now. i remember overhearing from someone, it was either kelly or even max that you never gift a partner a ring unless it's a replacement of an old and broken one or you plan to marry them. so, i decided to get her a matching emerald necklace and earrings set because y.n's already got so many rings, not just her own but also ones that my mom has gifted her," charles smiled shyly as lily's face lit up 
"aw, that's so sweet. and happy four years, charles. four years is amazing. you and y.n should be so proud of that. and, good on you for deciding to not get a ring as i know so many people at the four year mark who would have gotten a ring and it turn out that they weren't ready to be married. you're really a smart man, charles. i'm sure y.n'll love the present," lily smiled, ruffling his hair in pride for the young racer as charles chuckled, fixing his hair as lily walked away
curious, of course, the other racers (excluding max) gave lily the look. and, lily, with a sense of pride, shook her head no. again, the drivers were saddened but, when lily, oscar's girlfriend explained, they felt a sense of pride wash over all of them. the same pride that washed over lily that charles knew not to gift y.n a ring if it either wasn't a promise ring, engagement ring or a replacement ring for one that broke. 
however, it was at this point, the third time that the grid thought that charles was going to propose that, he actually started planning it. obviously, it doesn't take long before rumours start to travel throughout the grid. so, it wasn't long before charles and even y.n began to hear of the rumours of the two young adults getting engaged. and, that was when the couple started to talk about it. because, like thought of as one of the reasons why it hadn't happened yet, charles and y.n just hadn't spoken about it. not because they didn't want to marry each other, they just hadn't spoken about it in proper detail. until now when they did start a conversation on it after a day of media interviews in the paddock on their four year anniversary and they were each gifted four gifts each. and now, with the knowledge of his girlfriend's ring-size, he decided to ring up max, because, like most people, charles would not have guessed that max was in on all the rumours and the bets so, he asked him for advice.  
let's just say that it was a struggle for the max verstappen to keep a straight face when charles asked him if at some point during a week off from racing that he could help him in finding an engagement ring for y.n. yet, max managed to keep his cool and, obviously, didn't tell the rest of the grid who were in on the rumours and bets about it. because, honestly, it got kind of boring to max about betting when his best friend and rival was going to propose to his girlfriend and also because he didn't want to break charles' trust. and three, whilst he did, as mentioned earlier, participate in the earlier grid rumours and bets, he would never rat out to the betters if he was on the other side. 
four
it's a quiet and slow day when out of nowhere, like, complete nowhere. everyone, except for charles and y.n, rush into the mclaren garage. worrying that something bad had happened like someone had been killed or arrested, it was confusing when they all just saw lando basically hyperventilating. 
"...are you alright lando?" oscar questions with worry, wondering why his teammate was literally hyperventilating if no one had died or been arrested
"i...i think it's the day!" he struggles to say as the grid and wags all look at each other in confusion 
"what? you think it's the day? what day? it's a monday, lando, what could be so exciting about a monday team meeting?" lily then questioned as lando bursted with another round of excitement which scared everyone 
"but that's just it! i think it's happened! i really think charles and y.n are engaged!" lando screeches with excitement as lily shakes her head, the rest of the grid smiling 
"and why do you think that, mate?" oscar speaks up as lando squeals yet again
but, he doesn't say anything and max's eyes widened, "what did you do, lando? what did you hack into?" he was worried that lando had somehow found out about the conversation he had with charles about him helping charles out with finding an engagement ring
"the hotel that they will be staying in for their belated four-year-anniversary..." lando backs up, trailing off of his sentence as no one notices the breath of relief that max breathes out
"...wait, so you think he's gonna propose to her at a hotel, lando?" oscar questions in confusion
however, that was when you walked in and let's just say you were beyond confused. 
"umm, who is going to propose to me where?" you blurted out as everyone's eyes widened
and no one spoke up. that was, until carlos did and let's just say, he truly saved the day here, "oh, no one tesoro darling. we're just talking about the time i jokingly proposed to rebecca with a gummy lolly ring in a hotel a couple of months ago..." he trailed off and everyone just hoped you believed it
and...you did. you didn't even question it and you should have cause you basically knew everything about your boyfriend's teammates, carlos especially. so, it confused the rest of the grid and wags when you didn't question it. 
"...oh, okay, cool. sorry, my bad. well, umm, if anyone's interested, charles has bought all of us some coffee and smoothies so, we'll be waiting for you guys in the ferrari garage with it when you are ready!" you smiled as you left the mclaren garage to charles who waited in the ferrari garage
as soon as everyone knew you were out of sight and out of hearing range, they all let out the heavy breaths that they had no idea they were holding on to. 
"holy...lord jesus christ, how on earth did she believe that lie, carlos?!" lando burst out as giggles followed as did head shakes of shock and wide eyes 
"ay, i truly have no idea but, good save for sure!" carlos chuckled as everyone shortly followed after him as he left for his morning smoothie that was waiting for him in the ferrari garage that for once, he didn't pay for or had to make himself 
"yeah, well done you, carlos! i seriously thought she wouldn't believe it but it shocked me more that she didn't question you," max chuckled in bewilderment as carlos patted his friend and rivals shoulder 
afterwards, the grid and wags realise that, whilst lando did "hack" into the hotel that you and charles were booked into for that night and the following weekend, that it wasn't because he was proposing to you. it was genuinely because you guys didn't actually get to fully celebrate your four-year-anniversary that was the third time that they thought a proposal was happening. so, instead, you guys were going to celebrate it on that friday and saturday instead. 
five
it's this day, the fifth time that the grid and wags thinks a proposal is gonna happen that it's max that teases the group. sending the grid back at the paddock doing more media interviews his location that he was in with charles. 
"you guys will never guess where i am!" max sniggers cheekily which earns some confusion from the grid and wags who were basically bored out of their minds 
with so much waiting around to do before filming some interviews and videos for their social medias, lando almost groaned at his friend, "oh, i don't know, max. are you by any chance planning a new strategy to win the next gp?" he replies which earns a laugh from max but also from the rest of the grid, including y.n, although it's obvious she wasn't paying attention
only laughing because everyone else was, max knew it was the perfect time to tell the rest of the grid and wags, "i'm at the jeweller with charles, and it's a fancy one," he smiles over the phone
"gold thanks, babe, silver makes me look discoloured," kelly jokes, shockingly not realising the situation after she started to also, like her boyfriend, pull away from the bets of wanting charles and y.n to get engaged 
"good to know miss piquet, my love, but, i'm here with charles. because ages ago, when you guys thought for a third time that he was proposing to y.n, he asked me for help in my opinion on a certain piece he was looking to buy..."
that was when it clicks in kelly's and lando's heads, lando slipping out of the chair, "...wait, is this finally the day that it happens?" he just about whispers with his eyes wide and his hands already starting to perisperate
"i seriously think so guys. well, charles' walking back over and i can tell that y.n's attention is turning back to you guys so, i'll talk to you all later," max hangs up and focuses back on charles
seeing that max was about to uncharacteristically freak out, charles spoke up, "and, yes, it's the time to do it max. it's why i asked you back those few weeks ago when everyone thought it was gonna do it for the third time i think *chuckles*..." charles trails off as max's eyes nearly fall out of his sockets 
he nearly chokes on his own red-bull smelling saliva, "wait, you weren't joking when you were asking me for advice on an engagement ring?" max whispers, realising just how honoured he suddenly felt to be given this opportunity - especially considering he and kelly weren't even engaged or married yet
"yes...i know you and kelly aren't even engaged let alone married but, i want you to help me and give me advice on an engagement ring for y.n. i was being serious that day when i came to you and asked. i know she loves emeralds because of the emerald necklace and earring set i gave her for our four-years but, i don't know if that's her style in rings too..." charles trailed off, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and stressed, grateful that he had max with him even though they should have technically been at their team meetings 
overcome with emotion and seeing charles overcome with emotion, max had to fight himself to not give the young racer a huge hug. resisting however, max takes in some deep breaths which causes charles to watch and copy so he could calm himself down as well.
"well, whilst y.n loves to wear emeralds on necklaces and earrings, do you know if she has any emerald rings? cause that's a start and if she does have emerald rings and wears them quite often then, yes, that would be the choice of engagement ring you'd buy. but, if she usually wears a different stone more than the emerald then go for that one, alright?" max advised as charles smiled and nodded his head, feeling more confident
as a smile overcomes his face, he pulls out his phone and goes straight to his photo album of you. majority of the photos you are wearing a specific ring with a specific stone. and whilst the stone wasn't an emerald, it was a green sapphire ring that you got given by your mother that you always wore on your ring finger. you would wear it until the day you would then change it for the real life green sapphire engagement ring you'd get when you'd eventually get proposed to. 
looking at max's pride-filled face of how, just like figuring out the racetrack, charles quickly figured out the type of engagement ring you wanted. and how it was the exact same as the one you had been wearing ever since your mom had given it to you. except, whilst it would be similar, it would be different because charles made sure that whilst the stone was sapphire, he still made sure that there was an obvious engagement ring bling on the ring. just so it was obvious that it was an engagement ring. and not just a replacement for the one you already had because, that sapphire ring hadn't broke. it was just being replaced for the real deal. 
and, of course, charles didn't really need max's opinion on the actual ring itself, he just needed the help in figuring out what stone and whether it was emerald or sapphire. so, when max helped him in figuring it out by asking him if there was a specific stone that you wore more often then the other, that was when it clicked in his head on the stone of choice. 
"max...thank you for coming with me and helping me. i'm glad you were able to come with me even though we're supposed to be doing interviews and content," charles thanked the red bull driver, pure sincereity seeping from not just his words but his body language 
and max smiled, "my pleasure charles and, don't be thanking me. it was an honour to help you find the right one for y.n," max replies, not stopping himself from hugging the ferrari racer this time. making the brunette sincerely chuckle, he welcomed the hug wonderfully 
feeling pride and like an older brother to the slightly younger driver (they grew up doing karting and then obviously, f1 together), max couldn't help the urge of a sudden flood of tears that had started to well up in his eyes as the two racers reached the car. 
the one
"...hey guys, what are you all doing on the 30th of june?" charles asks, completely out of nowhere since it was another meaningless day in the paddock
"that's like, nine months away, you really think i plan that far in advance, charles?" kelly questions, nevertheless, checking her calender in her phone at the same time, her concentration from max fleeting for just a second
"to be fair, i was not expecting that reaction," you smiled devishly, clearly hiding something, smiling at charles, "let's go once more and if they don't get this, i think i'm just gonna throw it at them. kelly, rebecca, lily, kika and heidi, would you like to be my bridesmaids?" 
just when you thought you were going to have the throw the ring at them, a delayed and very loud gasp falls through the room as everyone turns to stone. it's lily that is the first one to regain her composure, "wait, what are you saying?" 
with a joking roll of your eyes, you hold up your left hand and wriggle your fingers...oh and the new, upgraded sapphire engagement ring, "aren't you gonna ask where i got the new upgraded sapphire ring from?" you pretty much cackle like an evil witch, surprisingly enjoying the reactions
max then stands up, since it was clear not even word champion max had anything to do and pushed his chair away, "you actually did it?" he was soft in his question to charles 
"i did it," the brunette nods, his smile wider than ever before if possible
"you've broken the grid, charles," kelly chuckles, looking all around her to see everyone still frozen in their tracks on the floor or their seats 
however, not for long as lily, kelly, kika, rebecca and heidi jump out of their seats and rush over to you, "why didn't you tell us the second you asked her, charles?! of course...of course i'm free that day and even if i'm not i'll make myself be free! and excuse me, how dare you ask me to be your bridesmaid with the insinuation that i'd say no, I'D LOVE to be your bridesmaid!" 
nearly toppling over you, lily smashes into you for a hug as you couldn't help the laugh that erupts from your throat. after lily's over the top reaction, the grid and max stood up out of their own seats or off the floor and also crowded around you and charles. of course then came all the congratulatory hugs and face squishes and wanting to take a closer look at the upgraded sapphire engagement ring. 
and, obviously, the next day during the actual race and then actually the next couple of weeks, the wags and the grid starts to bring in little cakes and muffins and things to keep the celebrations of the new formula 1 engagement up and continuing. because, now that the engagement had happened, that meant it was now time to plan the wedding. but, you and charles didn't care, you just loved that after waiting for so long, the grid and wags that is, they finally got their moment to celebrate their two little f1 babies get engaged because not only were you even more in love with your now fiancé but you just felt like you were being attacked with love at every angle and you loved it and you embraced it. 
oh, and remember that bet that was going around? yeah, it was actually max that won all of them so, he got all of the money. shockingly, he managed to correctly predict the exact date of the proposal without even being given the date from charles. because, even though max helped charles in figuring out the ring was a sapphire and not an emerald, that didn't mean he asked nor was given any other information about the day of the proposal. only that the ring was a sapphire so, it was pretty funny and a shock to the system that max predicted the exact date without knowing it. and he didn't get the day before or the day after, he got the exact date on the dot. for a while, certain people on the grid and wags were a bit suspicious (danny, heidi and lando) but a couple of days later and they just found it amusing and amazing that max was such an amazing predicter as well as formula 1 driver. to the point that he was then asked to predict the day that the bachelorette party was going to be on. but, that was obviously when max drew the line as everyone was needed for whatever it was that they were even needing at the paddock on the day before a race after they had done everything they needed to do. because, f1 and grand prix's unfortunately doesn't stop just because an f1 driver and his girlfriend get engaged. 
fin
this was so much fun to rewrite and reformat into an f1 version and i think i'll be doing a lot more of these 5 + 1 formats a lot because i really enjoy this format and writing these. 
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©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024
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princessgarnetxvi · 2 months ago
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Am I simply showing my age?
I was eager to watch Nina the Starry Bride simply because the art and animation was extremely beautiful in the trailer. The low budget 'action scenes' aside, I don't have many qualms with the anime aside from the horrible pacing - (but this is present in the manga as well so the writing is just overall cringe I suppose for a romance.)
So I decided to dive into the manga cause I hate waiting for episodes and MY GOD I wish I didn't bother falling into this rabbit hole because I simply do NOT understand how ANYONE can ship this asshole with anyone.
How is there even a love triangle present?
Like -
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I just got here and I don't understand how anyone can ship these two. Literally scares her with rape, nearly kills her by slicing her chest open with a sword simply for talking when not spoken to and this dude has tried to actually kill her further into the manga.
How does this compare to the other love interest who, aside from the mistakes he made in the beginning (which he tried to correct AND WOULD'VE SUCCEEDED INTO DOING but Nina like always has to get herself into a world of trouble with her shit choices), is just a walking green flag that treats Nina like a fucking human being INSTEAD OF PROPERTY:
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??????????????
I'm here for toxic ships too. But the toxic party HAS to have some redeeming qualities and this Sett mfer has absolutely none. He's a spoiled rotten, self absorbed crazy asshole that harms people when he is throwing a tantrum.
"oh but he doesn't kill the MC and actually feels bad about it" Damn, you mean you're reaching at the bottom of the barrel here for this dude?
Cool. Cool.
Meanwhile, Az over here LITERALLY TREATS HER LIKE A QUEEN AND OVERTHREW AN ENTIRE MONARCH SIMPLY TO HAVE THE POWER TO SAVE HER BUT SOMEHOW HE ISN'T A PROPER CANDIDATE?
Maybe I'm old cause I just don't get how there's any competition over who is the right choice here.
Either way, Nina doesn't deserve Az at all so lol
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cutely-inserts-my-opinion · 2 months ago
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Hello! @tsams-au-confessions here! I'm doing an experiment where I barge into peoples inboxes and ask them about AUs they like! It's your turn! What AUs in any fandom do you like :]
Nwushdjdn oh my god there are so many I love
This list will be long and there will be explosions with me going insane on every one
🔞 = pretty self explanatory, the two that have these have smut, so-
📕 = they have full on fics (that I have read)!
🔞📕 The Highly Unconventional au/story by @alexandraisyes and @turbotasthick (I think?? I'm pretty sure chat-) was kind of my first introduction to tsams shipping aus, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. I couldn't stand it while I read it (it was just so dark it made me sick, its fucking phenomenal writing), but I kept reading it cause it sucked me in. Now I physically can't reread most of the first book lmao, but I love to reread small parts, as well as rereading whats out of the second. I love dad Kc and mom Solar Flare!! And just Sun's relationship with everyone. (I also have a new appreciation for angst, though its still hard for me to read)
I love @sunny-inajar's ATWR au! I'm not usually a fan of Solruin, but God Sommet is so cute I can't even- and I love Eclipse, and Sun is so pretty!!! God i could gush about that au so hard dude- RV is so pretty too idc-
📕 Snjsnhnrfi @kuuchaos's Backstage au is fucking great. I'm going to read the new chapter of Ameliorate as soon as I'm done making this list- Nexus is adorable, Solar and Eclipse are great, I'm really interested to see whats going on with Dark Sun, and nwuensiabshdjd FUCKING NUMBUS DUDE??? Also I can't wait to see more of Jack- god I love all of them im insane
🔞📕 Oh, and of course the @emhm au because oh my god. This au made me realize I relate to Eclipse a lot and I dont like that realization but its okay chat. I love Sun, I want to fight Lunar, and beussusbshs I'm sorry I love Old Moon dude, he's now little guy??? I fucking adore that. And I love the little Sun group chat, nsisnsjs all the different Sun's are so great. And God i just want to cradle Nisshoku and hold him so close the poor little guy. And like I said I related to Eclipse so I love and hate him, but I dont relate to him just enough to think he doesn't deserve anything bad happening to him. I love him dude shwnwusnd I do cringe whenever he's telling people to have sex or talking about when he's had sex with Sun, but that doesn't make me love him any less (well maybe it does but its just a littllee less lmao)
I do really like @ayyy-imma-ninja's fairy au. I need to take the time to learn more about it though- like read all the comics and stuff! Its a really good au
I also do really enjoy the @villainoustrioau. Its a lot of fun to see and I really like seeing all the Eclipse's being evil together!!
And of course, last but not least, the Confessionverse!!!! Because of course, I'm obsessed. I have so much fun getting to talk to J about Sol and Pan, and I love the roommates in general! It's a lot of fun, and the au is just great. Its a very fun and creative way to do an au! (Creativity i don't really partake in since I'm more focused on being a confession blog than an rp blog!)
And uhhh- yeah I think that's it!!!
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threepandas · 3 months ago
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Bad End: After The War (Next ->)
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The click of a button in a mostly quiet room. Machines humming as they churn an endless stream of data. Listening. Receiving. Filtering through the noise, for those bits of intelligence that might win us the war. The outpost was quite. As much as it could be, at least, on this god forsaken moon.
"Perimeter Check?"
More specifically, 'did you get your ass eaten by those horrifying eel-snakes? Because you promised not too, and I WILL be mad.' 'Cept, you know, these channels are technically recorded. Rather not have my snark On Record, thanks. So SUBTEXT.
The familiar, oh so melodious, demonic death screeching of abomination eels and blaster fire comes on comm. A symphony straight out of some sci-fi horror movie, act 3. The part where everybody's getting eaten. Except NOT, because this? This is just my life.
Though the eaten part is still a Very Real Risk.
Which Is FUN.
I wait. Hope I just caught Headshot at just a bad time. Not, you know, in his final moments. Ha ha... Nope! Not! Thinking 'bout that! He's immortal, I'm immortal, and we both live in a happy fun time fairy land of FUCKING WONDERS. Denial? Fuck yeah I know her! Best friend, that one. Gonna be my future kids godparent. Walk me down the aisle. We BESTIES.
There is finally, at long last, ominous silence. Dead or dying? Dead or dying? Which side, eels or Headshot, is Dead or-?
Click.
"Perimeter looks good. Bit of a mess near the east gate, though. We'll need to get the droids to shove some mess over the ledge. They tried to climb again."
Oh thank FUCK. Tension bleeds out of me. This post is hell on my anxiety. I send back the confirm. Slump back on my seat as I keep an eye on his tracker's dot, on the patrol read out. I fucking HATE perimeter checks. They aren't safe. But... well...
This universe? I'm pretty sure, it's an "all the serial numbers filed off" blatant rip off of Star Wars. Might be a fan fiction? Cause, while the troupes are familiar, the "characters", no one is where or WHO they should be. There are also other "totally not X" bits here and there, all of which confuses the fuck out me.
But what I DO know? Is that making a fuss about the safety and well-being of us peons? During this, the "totally not the Clone Wars"? While Evil Dick, Sith-y Pants the Obvious is in charge? GREAT way for our entire outpost to get "tragic casualties of war"-'d. So yeah, no thanks.
Keeping my mouth shut.
And, hey! At least they ate our complete asshole of a commander. Technically we SHOULD be getting a new one... but we were told to make do. Same with all the OTHER critical roles currently empty.
The DICK.
Like? I know he wants to drag out the war and maximize suffering for Evil Not-Sith, Off Brand Space Wizards Of EVIL Powers? But like? Fffffuck yoooou, dude. What the hell. Hope he stubs EVERY toe, always.
The Clones deserve better then this. The SECOND the war is over? I'm stealing Headshot. Fuck this "property of the state" bullshit. Just me 'n him, man. We could go explore the wilds. Or get him a beard and fake glasses. Clone? What clone! This is my BROTHER, Headshot. Our parents were gun-toting hippies. My names Moonrock. Fuck off, maybe. Keep walking.
The second I see him cross the base threshold, I switch over to Droid command. They can't hold my shift forever, but for a bit? Should be fine.
Jogging down the hall and sliding down a few ladders, I finally catch sight of Headshot as he leaves the staging area. Oof. That is a LOT of eel blood. The cleaning bots are cursing up a storm as they follow him. Even from the other end of the hallway... he smells... ripe.
I give him a second to lead the way and for the bots to work behind him. Then join in the little parade. Ah, eel goo. The third worst thing that could come out of going outside. Right behind losing a limb or dying. But hey! I restocked the soaps for ya!
"Doesn't change that it's on my everywhere, Commander."
Oooooh~ breaking out the COMMANDER are we? Is that SASS I hear? Snark perhaps? Why HEADSHOT! Such insubordination~! What EVER shall I do?
He snorts and suggest something anatomically impossible as he gestures to the shower rooms door. I tap it open for him. Goo boy that he is. Grinning I follow and find a bench where I can sit so my back is to him. It... used to be weird, to be honest, this level of living in each others pockets. But time and isolation has eroded a lot.
Clones don't really see boundaries like everyone else. Don't have the same taboos or unspoken social rules. After all... they're all the same gender. Were forced to live basicly in a breadbox with each other. The culture that developed reflects that. And I? Am more of a follower then a "type A". Not passive by any stretch of the imagination, just... eh.
I don't have the social outgoing-ness? I guess? To drag the culture of our base towards MY social norms as opposed towards his. It made him comfortable. I shrugged and went okay. Rinse and repeat. To be honest I was just glad he trusted me enough to SHARE.
Booting up my definitely-not-a-tablet, (which is of course, STUFFED full of various bits of sci-fi technology that only half makes sense) I once again try and connect to the wider army's mainframe. Nothing. I've BEEN trying for weeks now. But for some reason? We're cut off.
No new commands. No new forms to fill. No demands for information.
No UPDATES on what the FUCK is HAPPENING out there.
I'm... not gonna lie, getting nervous. We're a listening outpost. Some of our information is time sensitive. And our SUPPLIES are not infinite. Forget food, if we run out of AMMO? Those nightmare snake-eel THINGS will... Look, long and short of it? I've got an "empty" blaster shoved under my bunk. Two shots left. And compared to the slow, SLOW digestion and meat threshing teeth those horrors have?
At least it's FAST.
But I would REALLY prefer we NOT fucking come to that, you know? That someone would fucking PICK UP. Or? I don't know!? Notice we're offline? Whatever the problem is! The fact that we've gone dark is SPOOKING the fuck out of me.
Not to mention? That even BEFORE communication went down? The chat rooms and update boards weren't making a whole lot of sense. Lot of clone specific references that I didn't get. Memes, maybe? I don't KNOW and that's the part that's killing me. I had no way to CHECK. It all just... went dark.
We're still GETTING data. But? We can't seem to SEND it. Headshot and I checked. I checked the droids while he got the dish and other external devices. Clambering around the roof with his sniper rifle like a well armed, circus trained, mechanic. Nothing was wrong with the droids. And according to Headshot? Nothing was wrong with the dish.
After a while I gave up. Again.
Reminded myself to practice my meditative breathing. In... out... IN... OUT... do NOT trough your only Data Tablet. You'll break it. You can't REPLACE it. It might FEEL satisfying in the moment... but it's Not Worth It. Just listen to the sound of the running water. The quite of the room. Breathe... unclench your jaw, make your muscles relax, c'mon you can do this.
Fuck, I needed my anti-anxiety meds. But we were starting to ween me off them so I didn't go cold turkey when we ran out. It was fucking with my head. But, hey! At least I wouldn't run the risk of seizures! Or any suicidal ideation! No, just slowly building anxiety, in this, History's Most Stressful Outpost.
The shower shut off behind me. Leaning forward to grab a towel from the stack, I tossed it blindly over my shoulder. Heard him catch it. Wet feet slapping quietly against tiles as he walked forward, drying himself. From the feel of droplets and heat, looming just behind me? He was leaning over my shoulder. The man always did like to damn near boil himself in the shower.
"Still nothing? We've run out of D6 bolts. Not to mention your meds..." He commented, still drying off. I could feel the occasional brush of a towel. A bare arm reached over my shoulder to tap at the screen. "Have you tried...? Shit."
He tried several commands. Leaning over me, damn near cradling the back of my head against his bare chest. But nothing worked. Plopping his chin down on the top of my head, he casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, leaning his weight on me as he considered the problem. The fans kicked in overhead, dehumidifing and hopefully preventing any sort of alien molds.
I told him to go put on some fuckin pants, before he frozen something he might miss off.
With an amused snort he stood and wandered over to the armor cleaner. Grabbing a new undersuit. Blacks went on, armor freshly de-goo-d, he called that he was presentable once more. I swung my legs over the bench. No need to stand, after all, if we're not leaving yet. Besides, exhaustion was a symptom of the withdrawals. Med changes are a BITCH.
Just as I was about to suggest anough brainstorming session, though?
Our comms both ping. LOUDLY.
That's the emergency signal from the control room. SHIT. I'm up and running before the sound even fades. Headshot right behind me. Not so much because he can't out run me, as he'd stop to grab his weapons as was bringing up the rear. Guarding my back. I prayed, PRAYED, this wasn't an attack. We were supposed to be a fourteen person team.
There were TWO OF US.
We'd never be able to hold the line. Would DIE here. Fuck, I didn't even have time to get that gun! I should have been carrying it. It had been too morbid. But... but...!
I slam into the control room. Headshot a half step behind. The droids frantically churning away. Okay. Okay! What's happening? A ship, big one, in orbit. Oooooh fuck. How Big? I ask. Am informed? "Wipe us from the face of the galaxy" Big. Ha ha! FUCKING FANTASTIC. Great! Merry fucking Christmas to me, I guess! Okay. Okay!
Let's DO this.
Get on the short range ship comm, (never thought I'd USE it but here we fucking ARE) and ask, politely, for them to Fucking Identify Themselves. (Because we have Big Guns and are NOT afraid to use um!)
There is a long tense moment. Then? Oh thank merciful FUCK. A Clone's voice comes on the line. General Spark of the 153rd, in pursuit, they're here to catch traitors and resupply if we need anything. Permission to land a few ships?
I. Could. WEEP.
Yes! Oh, ABSOLUTELY yes! Whoever they're chasing picked a REALLY stupid planet to hide out on, not gonna lie. They'll be picking their traitors up in PIECES. But? Never has a voice been more beautiful. Send Techs! You have FULL use of the outpost General! Welcome!
Setting the droids to navigating the incoming ships safely through landing, I all but DRAG Headshot towards the landing pad. People! Actual, real, PEOPLE! Supplies! Oh thank FUCK! We might be able to figure out what wrong with our relays! Get NEWS! And? That was a CLONE GENERAL!!!
That NEVER happens!
I can practically feel my self vibrating with excitement. Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, as the ships come in for a landing. The officers that roll out are all clones. Their armor more personalized then I've ever seen it. It's BEAUTIFUL. I can't help but lean over and whisper to Headshot, saying as much. Wondering if we can get him some of the supplies they must of used.
You know, assuming he WANTS any of um.
If not? Dibs.
His shoulders are shaking. Why are-? One of the officers thanks me for the compliment. Headshot you SON OF A SUBSTANDARD VAT. Was your SHORT RANGE MIC ON!? Why would you not-!? Bastard! Dead to me! Sorry general, I've never met this man before in my LIFE. Couldn't introduce if I TRIED.
Still! High ranking clones? We love to see it. I am THRILLED. It's been long over due.
Dooooesn't mean we should hang out in Eel Country though. Everybody INSIDE! Let's goooo. Nice and safe, where no ones getting eaten, m'kay? Thank you! And yes! I DO have a list of resupply needs! A LONG list. Starting with my meds, followed by ammo. Though honestly they're tied at first...
As me and the, now rather concerned, medic chat about the collapsing state of our highly rationed medical supplies? Headshot and the General are off to the side... talking about... something. Not sure. Probably not important, or he'd include me. I show the medic our "infirmary" and medical charts. Then get pulled away by the mechanic.
I barely get to SEE Headshot over the next two days. Forget sitting down. The only breaks I get? Meals and lights out. It's kinda awesome. Exhausting, yes, but? After so long isolated? It's a good type of exhausted. The sort where you feel like? For ONCE? You're actually being productive.
There are SO MANY eel burrows to scan? Potential landing sites? And all the MAINTENANCE? Dear merciful FUCK. Literally everything is out of date and cheap as BALLS. Held together with shoe strings and a prayer. But finally! FINALLY! Someone in budgeting GIVES A SHIT!!! Better equipment! Actual medical supplies! Real bedding! And best of ALL?
AIs! As in Actual, information sorting, artificial intelligences!
Because there literally hasn't been a REASON for humanoids to do this job for CENTURIES aside from a misplaced sense of superiority and distrust of droids! All WE need to do? Is stay on base and make sure THEY don't go rogue or break down from the extended isolation! Woooo desk job!
I'm gonna name um. They shall be my BABIES.
That said? None of this? Is very... Off Brand Sith-y. Little too "cares about their fellow man"-ish, you know? And... I'm not stupid. Excited as FUCK, for all the supplies and new changes... but not? Stupid. Blind.
They're keeping me away from the control room.
Keeping me out of important discussions. Sending me off on errands. All of which? SEEM important. ARE important, on the surface, but hide the fact that they are intentionally scheduled? Just as Certain Things Are Discussed. I am being... handled. Like a child. A fool.
When I confront Headshot? In our bunkroom, which we've shared for YEARS at this point. Slept just across from each other, so this lonely hell might feel just a little less empty? So when the dark thoughts creep in? That we might die in this God forsaken place, forgotten by the universe, left to ROT here, and wouldn't it just be easier to-? Someone there, so we won't. So we still matter.
He stands across from me. In OUR place. OUR room.
And FUCKING LIES.
......I guess I know where I stand, huh? And I know... I KNOW, I shouldn't feel betrayed. Clones come first, always. That's the party line. How they survived. I'm a Nat. There was always a power imbalance between us. I would always have been held just that bit further away then one of the brothers. Guess... guess it just finally happened.
I shouldn't feel betrayed. I have no RIGHT to feel betrayed.
But I do.
Headshot looks alarmed, hands twitching at his side, even as he tries to maintain his facade. Nothing's happing. They aren't doing anything. Right. Uh huh. His lie sits between us like a field of broken glass. The words, the arguments, I'd been looking for now seeming so useless. What's the point? He's made his decision.
I feel like crying. Don't want to talk anymore.
Good NIGHT, Headshot.
In the morning, I don't bother asking. I know he notices. Is waiting, restless, for us to continue on as we always have. We always check schedules after all. But what's the point? He'll lie. Instead I pull my armor on and go. Go to your brothers, Headshot. Whatever's happening here, I'm clearly not trusted enough to be part of it.
I just get out of your way.
There's a lot of busy work on my schedule, but honestly? The new AIs are learning to handle it. Instead, I head down to the new supply crates. Grab some bedding. A cart. Then head back. Pack up my shit. I just... can't.
Moving it all to a different bunk, I still have most of the day left to go. Could...? Probably? Check out if we actually DO have space rats? The droids have been reporting dust and noise in the basement, near the food stores. So likely vermin of some kind. Gonna be horrifying to find out what kind of vermin exsist HERE, but better then nothing, I guess.
Grabbing one of the better ration bars to shove in my face on the way to the gun locker, I count it a breakfast. Everyone's busy with a clone only meeting. Good for them, I guess. Not upset with General Spark or his men, I realize, as I check over the gun, no... just Headshot. Because he hurt me.
All he had to say was "I can't tell you." Or "trust me" and I WOULD have. But no. He LIED. To my FACE. And now? Now I feel like I'm waking around with shards of glass where my heart should be. Like I want to hit something. I need a distraction. So down to long term storage I go.
Normally? It's only droids down here. I have to ride a cramped little maintenance elevator lined with blast doors. You know, incase Satan's favorite pet somehow burrows in. The fuckers. It's also freezing. Which, I mean? Great for food storage, not so much for thermal regulation.
The level is eerie quiet.
Which.... huh. That's? Not right.
I reach for my comm before pausing. The hurt in my chest throbbing. I know I shouldn't let it get in the way of professionalism. Of protocol. The rules are there for a reason. To keep us alive and safe. But... God, I don't want to hear his fucking voice right now. I might cry. Say something I don't mean and regret later. You don't LAST long, isolated out in Hellpit, Nowhere, without doing a little soul searching.
Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.
My hand drops. It's fine. I'm FINE. There's nothing down here. Or, well, should be nothing down here. We'll find out.
Slowly moving forward, I begin to check the stacks. I don't see any of the droids. Don't HEAR any of them. There should be at least thirty down here. But all I hear? Is the circulation fans. The sound of my foot steps. Something isn't right.
It's a loose, half melted screw in the path that saves me. At first I think it's a bug. But the quite clink when my foot nudges it is unmistakable. It makes me look sideways. There, a cleaning droid, cut down from behind. Tiny little mechanical claws still reaching out to claw itself to safety. Wheels shredded. The marks of a lazer blade are unmistakable.
The hiss-hum even more so.
I BARELY dodge.
Half my gun, simply sheared away. Molten slag dripping from the cut point, the battery already violently destabilizing ask it's nicked. I throw it, before I have the chance to lose a limb. The blast takes out a crate. I'm thrown. Barely roll in time to dodge the downward stab of the hissing blade. A brutal, magic-enhanced, kick sends me flying.
Straight through a stack of ration crates, into a wall mounted medical case. I land among the corpses of the droids. Each, a picture of terror and betrayal. I don't understand what's happening. The blades not red or black! It's blue! That's a not-jedi! Right?! Why are they!? Crates are lifted into the air. Threatening to smash down and bury me alive.
Can't move. Something twisted, badly, in my leg. My chest burning. Something cracked, I could feel it. I'm gonna die. Oh good, I'm gonna DIE.
"Wait! She's not a clone!"
I stare up into the face of the so called "good guys" and feel nothing but terror. Around me, the pieces of thirty droids I'd named and known, dead and dumped like trash upon the ground. Flower with his fussy need to have everything just so, Chirp who loved to sing, Mouse with the wheel I could never get to stop squeeking.
Nothing but Cannon fodder.
They died so afraid.
"Oh! You're right! Sorry! I thought you were one of those 'peating bastards. Are you okay? How long have they held you?" The Knight said. His Apprentice nodding eagerly.
My brain was static. Empty. Held? Slurs? W-what in God's name? I stayed down. Feeling small, lost, and confused. Pain rocking my body from being thrown around. The Apprentice, at least, seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea what the fuck they were on about.
"Ah. You don't know what's happened." She said sympathetically. It would be nicer, if she hadn't stood back while I was hurt, before they got around to asking who's side I was on. "The Clones betrayed the Republic. Took it over by force. They've made an empire. They killed the old Chancellor, who was Fallen, but then instead of handing the Republic back to the people? Kept it! Said we couldn't be trusted with it."
The last part was said mockingly. As though everyone and their brother hadn't been aware the Republic was on the brink of collapse. Corruption at an all time high. As though that same Republic hadn't been using the Clones as a SLAVE ARMY.
Slaves do tend to take exception to their chains, historically.
I wasn't really sure why the fuck they were surprised.
"Now come on, you can join the Rebellion. You must know all sort of information, from sitting out here, right? You can-!"
Click.
My helmet went full dark and internal audio only. Which was interesting because I still could barely move. But then bright light and sound, popped and cracked not to far away from my head. A flash grenade. And I finally, FINALLY? Remembered that all standardized armor? Comes with in built life support feeds.
Headshot's mystery meeting was in the command room... where my life sign readout would be. The life support feedback. Real time monitoring from me getting my ass kicked and WHERE.
A hand grabs the drag handle built into each armor, for EXACTLY this reason, and I feel my self pulled out of the danger zone. Can hear heavy, open fire. Shit. There goes our supplies. My helmet clears and I recognize the shoulder I've been careful thrown over. Headshot. He came.
He falls back at some signal I can't see. Straight to the elevator.
The shoulder under me is shaking, just slightly. Adrenaline, fear, anger. I can't tell. But... I... I'm...
"Don't." His voice is rough. Choked out through gritted teeth. His grip just carefully loose enough not to bruise. It seems to be taking everything he has. "You don't get to die. Do you understand me? You're not ALLOWED to die. Not now. Not ever. We didn't survive this long for you to leave me now."
He barely waits long enough for the door to open. Stride smooth and desperate as he races us towards the medic. I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe. Let myself be manhandled. Ha ha... a-at least? I know what he's keeping from me now. So there's that. Ow. Oh god.
The medic has to put me under. Bone fragments.
I drift.
Wake up, bandaged to hell and back, in ou-... in Headshot's bunkroom. Across from the empty bunk that used to be mine. Bed's softer then it should be, still smelling like Headshot. We haven't had the new sheets long enough. Knowing him, he probably stacked um.
The door opens. Headshot stalks in, dragging a cart behind him. His usual "pleasantly amused by life" expression nowhere to be seen. Instead? His expression is... blank. A determined, almost violent, edge to the set of his shoulders.
In silence, I watch as he unloads the cart. Bedding, knickknacks, the various bit of cobbled together wall art. All carefully stuck right back where it had been before. As though he had memorized the proper location of each and every piece. Even as he worked, with his back to me, every line of his body was daring me to be dumb enough to argue.
I didn't want too. I was just... just fucking tired.
Didn't like that we were arguing. If that was even what we were doing.
"Why?" I asked. Summing up everything and distilling it. Why didn't you just fucking TELL me? Why didn't you TRUST me? Why did you think I'd turn on you? Why would you lie? Why were we cut off? Was it REALLY a technical error? Why take the Republic? Why ANY of this?
Just... WHY, Headshot? Please...
"I refuse to lose you. When the war ended, you were going to leave. You said you'd take me with you... but honestly? That was naive. There would be no where safe we could ever go. We all knew that. We all had favorites." He finally stopped organizing my bed. Instead, smoothing down the sheet. Running both hands across it as he stared down, unseeing. "It was all so unorganized. Filthy. They treated us like DIRT. But we were... we ARE better. Designed to be superior. Stronger, smarter, faster. More durable. Why were we listening to them?"
"Then we found out why. Control chips in the brain. The nervous system. Carefully hidden, yes. But not carefully enough. You weren't authorized, you know. I'm glad. If you had been? I'd never have forgiven you. You'd never know you were dead before you died. But... I promise."
"I would have made it fast." His smile was a terrible thing. All broken edges and betrayal. Teeth upon teeth. A mania finally set free.
"Never thought those hypocrites would run here. Expect us to die for them. The happy little slaves. For the glory of THEIR Republic. You'll be okay, Commander. The General's agreed to stay until your back on your feet, just in case."
Headshot slides onto the bunk, sitting at my side, sweetly brushing hair from my face as though he hasn't lost his god damned mind. He's the picture of relief, now that there's no more secrets between us. Now that I'm injured and dependent on his help. Yet... it's teetering.
As though at any minute...
He could slide into some... unhinged state of mind. How LONG has he been on his last thread? Barely holding together? He leans forward and my mind goes utterly still. His lips pressed gently against mine. Chaste. Sweet. A warm, calloused hand, cradling my poor bruised cheek.
"I promise we'll stay together." He whispers against my stunned mouth. Eyes intent and mad, utterly loving. Like a strangers. "I won't let them seperate us. Not for anything. Now that it's done? We can be assigned anywhere. I'll take you with me. War's over, love. We're finally free."
Were we?
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