#did this to blow off steam from school

[mustardd]

#bromance

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

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kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Grey Sweatpants

✩ dilf!toji x fem!reader

✩ warnings & tags: ovulation, age gap (readers in her mid 20s & toji is late 30s), creampie, breeding kink, overstimulation, blow job, couch sex, etc.

✩ ✩ living with your ex-boyfriend/baby daddy is a hassle, but sometimes it’s for the best.

“bye my babies! have a good day at school—I love you!” you waved from the door as you watched your kids boarded the yellow school bus; with it driving off into the distance. you closed the door and sighed, turning around to see your messy living room. you rolled your eyes and began to pick up the clothes that were strewn across the floor.

‘his ass couldn’t help me clean up before he left?’ you cursed to yourself, thinking about your lazy ass baby father.

the two of you had one child together, your daughter; tomie, who was the light of your life and the one of the only good things to come from your previous relationship. in addition to your daughter, you gained a step-child; megumi. even though you & toji never married, you considered the boy as your own—loving him like his mother should’ve.

toji and megumi were forced to move in with you after a fault wire in the house caused a fire. you had speculated that toji was the cause for it, but he kept denying it everytime.

toji stayed home most of them time, since his job didn’t need him currently and you thought having him around would be good. but, you thought wrong. he hardly helped around the house, leaving you to clean the messes that him and your children made, he hardly cooked—which you were kinda glad about; you didn’t trust him to defrost chicken. however, he was an amazing dad to your two kids and wouldn’t knock him for that.

as you swept the floor, the sound of the front door being opened and closed alerted you and you turn your head, ready to fuss at your baby daddy. “toji! when are you going to—.” toji stepped into the living room, sweaty and shirtless—and as your eyes followed a sweat bead that dripped down his chest, the hem of his grey sweatpants caught your attention; and they fixtated there.

you could see the imprint of his dick and your thighs pressed together, as you began to remember all about it and how it made you feel.

“yer’ gonna quit your staring or what?” toji’s deep voice brought you back to reality and you immediately went back to yelling at him.

“can you start fucking helping me around here? im getting swamped! its bad eno—.” he walked up to you and cut you off, holding your chin up with his hand. “alright, you take a bath and I’ll handle the house. I’ll cook something to eat too.”

never in a million years did you think toji would cook or clean for you, but you weren’t about to pass it up. you nodded and scurried off to the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom and immediately drew a nice bubble bath. you put in your favorite scents and even lit a few candles, before you turned off the steaming water.

peeling off your clothes, you cringed when you got to your blue panties—the coldness of your arousal stuck to your lips as you peeled it off. it’s amazed you how he could still make you feel that way, without even touching him. it’s like your body was molded for him, it craved him at every moment. and as you sat in the bathtub trying to forget about it, your body and mind betrayed you. just the thought of him freeballing in those grey sweatpants, had your nipples hardening and your cunt gushing.

toji’s body looked like it was sculpted by gods, it was perfect. the way each ab and muscle were defined was mind boggling. you found yourself laying against the cool porcelain tub, teasing your hard nipples while you pinched your clit between two of your fingers.

“fuck toji~!” you moaned out softly, the subtle pleasure coursing through your body. you stopped pinching your clit and started rubbing it, eyes rolling back as it throbbed on your middle finger. imaging toji’s fingers replacing yours on your pretty little clit had your toes curling and your cunt spasming like crazy; cumming hard as the bubbles sloshed around you.

you sat there breathless for while before you got the strength to clean your body and drain the tub. rummaging through your closet, you found one toji’s old tshirts that your kept—slipping it on along with your slippers, before walking out of your bedroom.

the smell of food cooking made your stomach growl and as you turned the corner into the kitchen, the sight in front of you made you cover your mouth with eyes. your baby daddy was standing in front of the stove, stirring up whatever food was in the pan his muscles flexing with each movement. those infamous grey sweatpants sat low, showing the start of his toned ass.

you wanted him so bad right now, you could feel yourself getting more aroused by the second—and you had to do everything in your power to stop it, despite the thumping you felt down below.

“is this a dream? never thought i would get to see you cook. it’s like a miracle,” he snickered as you teased him, still stirring up his dish; before turning the burners off.

“taste this, mama~” he called you by the old nickname he gave you and it made you melt. you opened the mouth and accepted the savory taste of chicken and rice, unable to help the moan that escaped your mouth. his scarred lips turned up into a smirk and he grabbed two bowls, making one for him and you. toji led the way to the living room, putting the bowls on the coffee table, before going back to get you both something to drink.

“after all this time, you’ve decided to finally cook. why haven’t you cooked? and you cleaned the house? what’s the reason—you think you’re getting some?” you teased and he let out a roaring laugh, scooping up a spoonful of his food, before he got serious.

“I never cooked because I knew you enjoyed it. I could tell it was a way to help you distress and unwind, the same thing with cleaning the house. this is your house, I don’t wanna mess it up—mama~” your heart warmed, you did love cooking and cleaning, especially when you were stressed. you felt bad, he didn’t consider this as his house and you never gave him the opportunity to. even though the breakup between you two was mutual, you always gave him hell.

“toji….this is your house. despite everything, i love having you here—and the kids can see it too, i think they like seeing their parents together.” you spoke softly, innocently placing your hand on his crotch. he smiled and pinched your nose, turning to drink his beer; while you stared at his pretty face.

the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the rich beverage, had you pressing your thighs together—feeling yourself get wet. your eyes traveled to where you hand was and you slowly started to rub that spot, causing his eyes to advert over to yours. he raised his eyebrow and watched you, that sexy little look on your face that he knew too well—made his dick swell.

“it’s been a while, think you can handle me still?” he asked, a smirk etched onto his lips and you nodded slowly. he put down the bear bottle and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling on yours. you bit his bottom lip as you pulled away before pulling his sweatpants, making his cock spring free. he was huge, his tannish cock had nice girth to it—along with two veins running from tip to base. he looked bigger than you last remembered, and it made your mouth water; from fear and sheer arousal.

you swallowed and immediately enveloped your mouth around it, the sticky—salty taste of his precum entering your mouth, making you moan out. “shit girl, just like that~” his hand pushed your head down, making you take him deeper in your mouth. you gagged from the force, but quickly got used to it. spit, pooled and trickled out the side of your mouth, and the sounds of your lewdness echoed through the living room.

he reached over behind you, and lifted up your t-shirt, shocked to see that you weren’t wearing any panties; but even more shocked to feel how soaking wet you were. he smirked and slapped your ass, hard, making you choke on his dick—as a result of you trying to yelp. he slid his finger up and down your slit, sending chills up your body, coating his middle finger in your slick—inserting it inside of you afterwords.

the two of you moved in sync, his fingers pumping fast inside of you while you sucked his cock; hitting all the right spots. he inserted another, curling his fingers up to rub against your g-spot, while you gripped his balls, massaging them as you deep throated him.

and you both could feel each other twitching, release approaching the both of you hard—no longer able to hold back, the two of you climaxed. his creamy white load warmed up your mouth, while you creamed on his fingers. pulling back, you swallowed every last bit of his cum, savoring it as it went down, before kissing him; letting him taste himself. he pushed his fingers into your mouth letting you do the same, turning you on even more.

you stood up on the couch, hovering your cunt over his crotch, “sure you can ta—shit!~”

you cut him off as you sat down on his dick, letting him stretch you out in go. you took your bottom lip between your teeth, getting used to his size—walls clenching on him as you sat there. and when you slowly began to bounce, he couldn’t help the small moan that left his mouth. you threw your head back as you bounced on his dick, cunt creaming all over him. you were beyond wet, pussy squelching and queefing—taking his cock like a good girl.

“missed…this….—mhm—this dick~.” moaning in between your words, gripping his shoulder while you rode him, jiggling your ass ever so often. he grunted, loving how fucked out you looked—putting two fingers in your mouth; sucking them with no hesitation.

with this other hand, he sent smacks to your ass—loud popping sounds vibrating throughout the living room. toji loved your body, especially after you gave birth to your daughter. he loved how plushy and fuller you became; ass more plumper each day.

he could feel you clench down, walls moving frantically.

“that’s it mama, cum for me. show daddy how much you wanted this dick~.” toji sent another smack to your ass and you threw your head back, only for him to grab you by your cheeks; forcing you to look at him while you cum.

face contorted with pleasure and your eyes were peppered with little black spots, while you rode out your orgasm. he pulled you into a kiss once more, letting you slowly grind on him. taking you by suprise, he picked you up, sitting down on the rug beneath you and making you turn around. your phat ass was facing him and your face was deep into the soft beige couch, moaning once he pushed back into your sensitive cunt.

toji held onto your waist and watched as your ass wobbled against him, clapping with each stroke. he loved to watch it move, the stretch marks painted against the smooth skin, and the way it rippled when he thrusted into you. you eyes were rolled back to the whites, mewling as you took his dick—gripping the cushions as he rubbed that spot.

PLAP. PLAP. SMACK!

toji was slowly losing his mind from the sounds of your rough love making, his cock twitching inside of you with each stroke.

“cum for me! please—feels sho gud—“ he stuck his fingers in your mouth once again, pounding your pretty cunt sloppy.

“you looked so good pregnant with my seed—i can breed this pussy? wanna put another baby in ya” he grunted, giving you deep and powerful strokes. you mindlessly nodded your head, feeling your orgasm increasing.

his hips slammed into yours, his cock twitching before he finally released—making your belly warm with his cum. “yes daddy—fill me up so good’~” he slapped your ass, drilling your pussy while continuing to dump his milky load inside of you. he wasn’t stopping till you got yours and with his movements, you weren’t far behind.

you let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back deep into your head, cunt clenching so tight around him—you drained more ‘milk’ out of him. a powerful stream of clear fluid, pushed out of you; forcing him out with a loud queef following. toji plugged his finger up into your cunt, fingering you hard during the span of you squirting all over the run beneath you.

calming down, he pulled you by your chin and kissed you; melting into his touch.

“I’ll draw you a bath and pick up the kids, go get some rest mama” he picked you up with ease and walked you both to the bathroom.

you saw the kids off to the bus stop, forcing a smile on your face before you closed the door shut. you raced to the bathroom, to cough up the nasty warm liquid that came up—flushing the porcelain toilet. you groaned, touching your boobs which were oddly tender, and sat on the toilet. you reached into the stand beside it and pulled out two clear blue pregnancy tests.

while you waited for the results, toji came home from his morning job—body covered in hard work and sweat. “y/n? where you at mama?” he called out to you, looking around the house, only to not hear a reply. entering the bedroom, he saw the bathroom’s door halfway closed and he made his way over to it, knocking before entering.

you stood up and held the two positive pregnancy tests, folding your free arm under your chest.

“twins?” he joked and you hit his arm—giggling.

“we’re going to need a bigger place, soon.”

[igotanidea]

New rules: Damian Wayne x reader

part 4 of "Family rules" series.

A/N: bit of a filler, cause it's been 3 months(!!!!), but promise next part will be more eventful :D

***

„What is this?!” her father yelled, almost throwing the Gotham newspaper in her face.

“I—”

“Let me tell you what this is! This is you kissing Damian Wayne! And your face is all over the newspapers’ front pages!”

“Stop screaming at me!” she spat back feeling her self-control slipping.

“You better tread carefully young lady. Last time I checked you were still living in my house.”

The nightmare began the second she got back from school, still reeling from everything that happened in the principal’s office. Y/N could barely step over the threshold when a tight grip on her shoulders yanked her back, pushing her into the chair in the living room, with a very angered Mr. Y/L/N hovering above her. Felt like a freaking interrogation because she dared to behave like a teenage girl falling in love for the first time in her life.

If her mother was still alive, she would understand. She would sit down with her, ask a lot of questions, let Y/N blush and be supportive as a mother could.

Instead the young girl had to deal with her father, who clearly forgot that part of the role, focusing only on acting as a CEO, whose daughter was fraternizing with the enemy.

And it made her feel guilty.

Guilty for her own feelings, as if falling in love was something shameful. As if he had to pick the right person to whom her heart should start beating. Or not. Not that she could have experienced that, yet¸ but judging by the screams and rage she could say that in the future her father might try to marry her off out of reason.  

“Dad, please listen, I –” her pleading tone was supposed to make the man realize that she wasn’t just a bargaining chip in his business’ development.

“I understand.” The response was cold, emotionless, almost ruthless, leaving no space for arguing.  

“No you don’t understand! You don’t understand! How could you possibly understand love when even mom was nothing more than a trophy wife for you-!“

Her outburst was immediately cut off by a slap and sharp stinging on the cheek followed by the reddened skin and pulsing blood.

“This is what your mother’s upbringing caused.” Her father hissed “ungrateful, stupid, snouted brat. But let me tell you something. This ends here. And if you want to keep living on my expense, you will do as I tell you!”

“I’m 17! I’m underage, you can’t just cast me out!”

“Unless you want to find out what I’m capable of, I advise you to listen to the plan you’re just a pawn in.”

***

“What is it, Damian?” Bruce asked his youngest son when he came back from school. If there was any anger or disappointment in him, he did a great job hiding it.

“It’s nothing.” Said youngest muttered bellicosely.

It obviously had to come to this stupid awkward conversation with his father but Damian was not going to admit anything easily. And the fact that the boy only just realized that he might be slightly in love with Y/N Y/L/N was causing him to act even more coldly and aloofly than usually.

“Son…”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“So you kissing that girl was just you having fun? Or maybe you were trying to humiliate her?”

“What? No!”

“Look, you are a boy. It's okay if you want to blow off steam. It’s understandable.” Bruce smirked, clearly setting a trap for Damian with the reverse psychology trick.

“You understand? Because you had so much blowing off steam when you were younger?" Obviously the boy raised by Thalia Al-Ghul and Ra’s Al-Ghul was smarter than to fall for something so childish. “Besides, it’s such a humiliating experience. I have no interest in primitive youthful pleasures and amorous activities, father.”

“You sure about it?”

“Positive.” Damian crossed arms over his chest, having his face expression under perfect control.

“Good. Get ready for patrol then. We’ll be leaving soon.”

Damian nodded and with stern look and pursed lips left the room, allowing Bruce to finally let out a sigh of worry. His son may have been a skilled vigilante trained in restraint of emotions, but he could not trick Batman himself. It was impossible to notice how Damian’s eyes were focused on that little Y/L/N during all of last night’s gala. Showing much more than just resentment. And then the dance, which Bruce didn’t even have to force him into. And the way his boy was holding that girl. It was almost obvious that Damian had in fact an interest in amorous activities.

And unlike Y/n’s father, Bruce was not mad about it. In fact, he was quite relieved. As long as possible the relationship would not detriment Damian’s Robin duties of course. But seriously, as a father of a 17 year old, Bruce knew that it was only a matter of time when dilemmas and problems related to love and adolescence would come forward.

And unlike Y/N;s father Bruce was going to watch it carefully, intervening when needed, giving a push here and there, but without obvious control.

***

She was crying a waterfall, holding onto the bruised cheek wondering how to best cover it up so no one at school would ask silly questions.

Locked in the room on the first floor, making the most stern resolution to avoid Damian Wayne for dear life. Even if that was the last thing she would do in her life, she wouldn’t get closer than three rows of desks in the classroom.

For what Y/N cared, Damian Wayne was now officially dead to her.

***

He was sitting on the branch of a giant tree next to her house, dressed in Robin costume, observing how the girl walked into her room with a hand on her cheek, though the distance didn’t allow him to uncover why. Was she sick? Would she be at school tomorrow? Maybe the press got to her and she hurt herself running away from the paparazzi?

“Damian.”

AH! He almost fell to the ground.

“Yes, father?”

“What are you doing?”

“Observing.”

“What?”

“The target.”

“Hm.”

“What now?”

“Unless the target changed age, gender and appearance—”

“Our criminal is currently running down 34th street.” Damian cut his father off abruptly and roughly “his tires are about to burst in about 100 meters due to the explosive I planted there. The explosion will give us enough momentum to jump into action and catch him with the stolen goods in his trunk. That is if we get into action in 3…2…1…” he swiftly shot into the air without paying attention to his companion and even less to his words.

As if Batman was trying to suggest Damian might have been watching her.

Huh! Ridiculous!

***

“Hey Y/n, what happened to your face?” The same girl that used to laugh her out about ending up on the pages kissing Damian, guffawed the next day seeing the poorly covered bruise on Y/N’s face.

“None of your fuckin business -“

“Oh, such bad words coming out of the little princess' mouth, isn’t it?”

“Get lost Lisa!” Y/N shut the locker and tried to walk past her bully.

“You will not ignore me!” Lisa hissed and yanked the other girl’s hair back.

“GIRL FIGHT!” someone yelled and in a blink of an eye the corridor was filled with students cheering on one or the other girl as they started to circle around each other waiting for the moment to strike. Before teachers arrived Y/N was on the floor, blocking the hits that Lisa, who was sitting atop her kept on throwing.

“GET OFF ME!”

“YOU WILL RESPECT MY POSITION IN THIS SCHOOL!”

“YOU’RE A BULLY!”

“I’M A QUEEN!”

“OF MENTAL SICKNESS!"

“HE’S MINE!”

“Wait… what?” Y/N stuttered and the moment of confusion ended up in the perfectly aimed nose punch and a quite decent bleeding. Followed by Lisa’s vindictive smile.

“Now your nose matches your cheek.”

“ny-noze….”  tears pricked from Y/N’s eyes from the combined pain and shock. It was not just about the fight, but everything that happened in the last couple days. Her father’s abuse because of falling in love and now Lisa’s torment because of pretty much the same followed by a girl’s jealousy.

“What is happening here?” Fuck, why were the teachers always appearing  after the drama happened.

“She attacked me!” Lisa exclaimed, putting on an innocent face. “So aggressive, I suppose it’s because she was raised only by one parent.”

For a second the principal and the tutor were looking between untouched Lisa and beaten up, bleeding Y/N. It was clear who was the casualty, nonetheless it was Lisa’s family who’s been giving generous donations to school.

“Get up from the floor Y/N.” she was finally instructed and on shaky legs and with dizziness she clumsily stood up still clutching her nose. “This is your second stunt this week. You’re coming to my office and this time, I won’t go lightly on you.”

“It was not her fault.” Someone from the crowd of the students dared to speak up and the people parted, revealing the fuming….

Damian Wayne.

“it was Lisa—”

“Oh, I don’t feel well!” Lisa exclaimed accidentally falling right into Damian’s arms “I feel like I’m going to faint—”

“Mr. Wayne, take Mrs Thomas to the nurse’s office so she can be tended to.”

“What-?” Damian swiftly avoided Lisa’s fall and the girl almost ended up on the floor. “No.”

“N-no?”

“No. Y/N was the one who was attacked. And for crying out loud, she’s the one bleeding and needing medical attention. So no, I’m not taking her—” he threw a glance at Lisa “anywhere when there’s someone else in need.”

“U-uh…” the principal still had in mind the humiliation he was subjected to last time when he had Damian and Y/N talk to him. “Fine! Fine, you take her to the nurse, though it’s completely unnecessary and –” half a sentence and two of them were already halfway away “Fuck. I mean, you all go back to your classes! There’s nothing to see here! Now go, before I put you all in detention!”

***

So her resolve to avoid Damian was broken on the first day. 

And it was about to get even harder from now on. 

_________________________________________

part 5: Cracking

@6000-fandoms @beyond-your-stars @mikyapixie

@heartz4miz @crookedmakerfury @mariam12344 @celestair

@faimmm @hornyslasher @urdarlingali

[madhattervanessa]

Crush

Summary: Your hot neighbor, Simon Riley, has returned from abroad again and this time, you decide to be brave and confess your feelings to him.

Warnings: Porn WITH Plot I guess lmao, some spanking, hair pulling, but nothing actually heavy, mutual masturbation, nipple play, fingering, p in v, creampie

Words: 3698

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

next Part

-

It’s absolutely stupid.

You twiddle your thumbs before planting both hands on the counter again.

Stupid.

Crushing on your neighbor? Forgivable.

Crushing on a hulking man like that, with those soft brown eyes, his stupidly beautiful blonde lashes around them, his deep baritone, his strong hands-

Totally forgivable.

Crushing on a military man who is barely home and barely talks to you?

That should be where the line starts.

Still.

Your cheeks warm immediately when you hear the familiar heavy footsteps coming down the hall towards your door.

Maybe the note had been stupid.

Oh god.

What if he thought it was stupid?

The knock on your door doesn’t leave you much room to think.

You do know him. So this shouldn’t be too awkward.

It’s just Simon.

So, you open the door, chin already tilted up to adjust to his height.

“Hello, love.”

“Hi”, you breathe out, already nervous.

“You mind if I come in?”

You step aside for him, eyes never leaving him as he gets inside.

He mutters a thanks, slowly making his way inside. When you shut the apartment door, he is already turning towards you.

“I-”, he starts and you look down to the scar splitting his lip when he licks over it. “-I didn’t know you uh-” he furrows his brows before starting over. “I like you like that as well.” He scratches the back of his neck and meets your eyes again. “Bloody childish way to say that, huh?”

You smile at him, suddenly feeling very warm and gooey inside, at the sight of this intimidating man looking like a boy talking to his school crush.

“I did leave a note so- I guess we’re kinda even on that.”

“Right.” He sighs.

“So… Coffee?”

“Yeah, that would be nice, I- I brought those croissants you like.”

“So you were coming to confess anyways?”, you tease. You win a little chuckle.

“Just a thank you for keeping the landlord off my ass, love.”

You hum and watch as he opens the door again.

“You comin’, then?”

“Yeah, just, one second. I got a new roast at the shop that you will like.”

“Alright. I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay.”

-

He is looming over you as you switch out the beans in his grinder before you pull the espresso shots for your coffees.

“You alright?”, you murmur, not looking up as you fill the metal pitcher with milk.

“Yeah. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I know you can handle a broken bone with a smile, Simon. The bar is in hell.”

He huffs. You glance at him to find him leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter, still watching you intently.

“So it is.”

You steam the milk for his latte in comfortable silence.

“Why me?”

You smile and set the pitcher down, briefly knocking some air out of the foam before you continue assembling your drinks.

You can hear the rest of the question he has in his head.

It’s not that Simon is a particularly nice man, nor was he in town for long since he had moved into the building 2 years ago.

“I’m pretty self-sufficient, you know.”

You’re met with silence again. He is watching your hands as you pour pretty patterns into the coffee.

“I like spending time with you when you’re here. I miss you when you leave.” You shrug, keeping your question of, is that not enough? to yourself.

“You know I’m not…” A good man. Enough. Loveable. Able to love anyone.

You’d heard the line often, especially on the veteran’s evenings in the small community you had amassed.

You just hum and turn around. You blow over the hot coffee in your hands and take a first sip.

Your eyes meet his again and just like with the grumpy, scared cat in the alley a street over, you blink slowly, trying to communicate that this is enough, it’s okay.

He pushes off the counter and carefully takes the cup out of your hands. He holds onto one of them as he sets the cup down on the counter behind you.

You are holding your breath, startled and hopeful as he stares down at you.

You don’t dare blink as he leans in closer, and just barely tilt your chin up to his. His hand feels clammy as it holds onto yours.

Your eyes close and you wait, your heartbeat quick in your chest as you feel his breath on your mouth.

Soft, dry lips meet yours in a peck, a shy press of lips against lips.

You inhale shakily through your nose and grip his hand harder as you pull back a little. 

You wet your lips and carefully sneak another look.

Simon’s eyes are still closed and you watch, transfixed, as he rolls his lips, as if to taste you again, before he opens his eyes, too.

You grab his shirt and tug, silently demanding another.

He hums and dips his head for another kiss, this one more insistent.

You let your tongue lick over his lip. It makes him grunt and pull at you, forcing you on your tiptoes as you keep kissing, slowly working each other’s mouths open in an unhurried exchange.

When you part, you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s pretty. 

His thin lips are slick and shiny with your combined spit, his brows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“Can we fuck?”

You bite your lip at him, waiting for his answer as you watch the words wash over him. There’s just a minimal pulse of his pupils and a barely-there intake of breath.

“Thought I was going to take you out a few times, first.”

“I think the brunches and buying me coffee counts.”

“Tha’s different, love.”

“Is it?”

You fiddle with the hem of his shirt, still looking at him.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps looking.

“So, that’s a definite no?”, you murmur. He takes a deep breath.

“Let me ease into it.”

You smile at him and nod.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

His gaze lowers to your lips. 

You stop yourself from leaning up towards him, simply tilting your chin up a little. 

You wait for him to close the gap.

You don’t have to wait long.

He bumps into your chest with his, his head tilted as he kisses you again, carefully pecking at your lips with his, once, twice, then three times, before he licks your bottom lip.

The pressure makes you walk back a little until you bump against the kitchen counter.

His hand that has been holding yours moves to hold on to your hip instead. His other is moving your face to his liking. You let yourself be guided, losing yourself in the sensual kiss you share, the movement of your tongues against each other.

You let the hand that was holding on to his shirt wander up, over his hard stomach to his chest, until you reach his neck. You gently hold on to him, struggling to breathe before he finally pulls back again.

You’re panting slightly as you open your eyes again.

He groans, closing his eyes again and pushing his forehead to rest against yours.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, his nose nudging against yours, lips brushing slightly before he puts a little distance between the two of you.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Feels like you’re testing me.”

“I’m not. Just… letting you go as far as you like. I just-” You exhale shakily, looking at him, again. “I just want to be close to you, Simon.”

He nods and bends towards you to kiss you again. His hands wander down to your thighs. You gasp into his mouth as he lifts you onto the counter.

He steps forward, between your legs, before pulling you flush to him. You can feel him straining against his jeans, his hard cock pressing offensively against your sweatpant-covered center.

“Close ‘nough?”, he murmurs against your lips and you hum out a soft sound. You let your feet tangle behind his legs, urging him closer until he presses up hard against your clit.

“Mhm”, you moan. He looks at you, his breath stopped, before kissing you again- this time he’s rougher and the way his hips move up against you has you moaning into his mouth.

“I want you”, he groans, grinding his cock into you a little harder. “Want to do right by you.”

“Shut-”

He kisses you, again, silencing your protests. His hands are holding your hips, helping him grind against you. You are fisting the collar of his shirt, tugging him towards you as you nip at his bottom lip with your teeth.

He grunts and there’s an aborted moan that slips from his mouth into yours.

You grin and go to do it again but he holds you back by your throat, a gentle but warning touch. It makes you look up at him, mouth still open with a smile stretching your cheeks.

“Careful.”

“Or what?”

“You don’t want to get into a game of escalation with me, lovie”, he rumbles, his hand dropping. His thumb rasps over the seam of your pants and you gasp into his mouth.

“Don’t want to escalate just- mhn- just want you to stop treating me like glass, Simon.”

He hums and presses another short kiss to your lips before pushing his thumb down against your clit. 

“‘m treating you like something precious, love, not like glass.” He watches, eyelids low as you strain against him, already dizzy with the pleasure shooting up your spine from watching him rut against your thigh while he slowly pleasures you through your thin sweatpants. 

“I know you’re a tough birdie. Don’t ‘ave to prove it to me.”

“Don’t have to prove anything to me, either”, you challenge. 

He grunts wordlessly before pulling you forward again, your ass almost slipping off of the counter. You hold on to his shoulders in shock as the room spins around you. 

“Bedroom”, he just murmurs and you nod before cradling his head, and kissing him.

He only drops you when you have finally arrived in his bedroom.

It’s an awkward scramble once he has set you down. 

You’ve just flung your panties off when he is on you again, his stubbled face rubbing against your chest. He scratches his teeth over your skin, following it up with a lick over it. He is smearing the width of his tongue up over your breast until he reaches your jaw. The filthy gesture makes you gasp.

He tastes the sound with his mouth, leaning down into you, his hands on the headboard behind you. You have to hook your legs over his thighs to make room for the hulking man.

He blocks out the window behind him and you can’t help but stare at him as he licks his lips before spitting in his hand. You follow his hand down to his cock and swallow hard as you watch him stroke himself, coating himself with spit.

“Want you to touch yourself”, he whispers, so quiet, yoou almost don’t hear him.

He tugs your hand down to his mouth. He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he pushes two of your fingers inside his mouth, then guides them down to lay atop your pussy.

“Show me what you like.”

Your gaze drops down to his cock and you start rubbing your clit without a single thought. He watches intently and you see his hand squeeze a little tighter around his cock.

“Simon.” 

“Yeah?”

“I want you to play with my tits”, you breathe out.

“Fuck.” He stops stroking himself, immediately. “You want me to suck on your pretty tits, love? Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and licks at your nipple, his other, still slick hand, roughly grabs the other to let your nipple roll under his thumb. Your eyes roll back at the feeling.

It’s perfect. 

You slide two of your fingers inside of your pussy and Simon does something magnificent with his tongue on your breast. It makes you cum- quick and easy. Simon stays right where he is, continuing to lick and suck at your nipples as you whine and ride out your orgasm.

You jump when one of his broad thumbs nudges against your clit.

“Simon-!”

“I want to see you cum again”, he groans. You barely lift your hand away from your pussy when he speaks up again. “Put your fingers back inside your wet little pussy.”

“Si-”

He groans and there’s that glint in his eye, like the one you saw when you bit his lip in the kitchen.

“Simon, I want you to fuck me, please.”

He lifts his thumb to his mouth, sucking your slick off of it.

You reach out to stroke his cock and he makes a small sound as you stroke him with your slick hand.

He presses closer. You guide his cock until the tip of it nudges your pussy.

“Wait, are you- don't we need a condom?”

“I have an IUD and I got tested last month, it’s fine”, you whisper.

You know Simon doesn’t fool around when he is away but he says it anyway.

“I want you to fuck me bare, Simon. Want you to come inside of me”, you add, your hand still stroking him.

He groans again and his hips rock forward. You gasp as he leans forward, covering you with his body. He moves you, angling your hips up before he pushes another inch inside. 

His lips swallow your moan.

He is big- you saw, but now that he is pushing his hard cock inside of you, you feel like he is splitting you apart. 

He stops halfway and you release a breath into the small space between your mouths. He gently strokes your hip and nudges his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

He rocks his hips back and forth, slowly pushing another few inches into you. It makes you gasp into his ear- the sound results in a strong thrust that rocks you up the mattress.

“Fuck, Simon-”

You look down to where he is fucking into you, hypnotized as he stops about halfway, every time.

He sits back, his eyes trained on you as he fucks into you a little harder. His hands wander over the sides of your body until he stops at your hips. He pulls you into his thrusts, fucking you hard but slow. It makes you mewl and you blush at the unfamiliar sound escaping you.

“Simon”, you whimper and he furrows his brow. “Come here”, you sigh.

He wraps his body around you, using his other arm to pull you closer. It pushes your tits up into reach for his mouth. You whimper and arch into him more as he greedily licks at your nipple again, repeating what he had done earlier.

He folds you up further until your thighs are completely resting on his waist, his legs basically underneath your ass. It makes him stroke against something delicious inside of you. You don’t even get to say anything before you’re already coming again.

And then, he starts to fuck you. It’s a chaotic shift, the way he suddenly starts using his grip on your hips as a counterweight to thrust into you, mercilessly giving you the rest of his cock.

You can hear how wet your pussy is and the way it parts for Simon as he fucks into you. The wet, rhythmic squelch seems embarrassingly loud in the room.

“Fuck, love- feel so good-”

You hear the sounds coming from your mouth as if they weren’t your own- hoarse, high-pitched mewls, breathy uh-uh-uh’s, as he ruts into you. When you clamp down on the meat of his shoulders with your nails, you hear him groan.

“That’s it-”

You’re overstimulated at this point but the friction is making you see stars in the best way. When Simon slows down, you sob with relief.

“Made a right mess, didn’t you, love”, he breathes, his own breathing barely stunted while yours is ragged. When he leans back, you open your eyes only to find your legs shaking without his waist to cling onto.

He ushers you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You grumble, barely any strength in your body left to keep it tensed enough to follow him.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your nose pressed into his neck.

“You need to come-”, you slur.

“‘m letting you catch your breath first. Y’alright?”

“Yeah. Great, actually.”

He hums, obviously not believing you, and the suspicious sound makes you giggle.

You let your hands wander, admiring the broad plane of his chest, the scars crossing it.

He tilts your chin up to his again. His kiss is gentle, barely making your lips part. You can feel one of his hands stroking down your back until he can grasp one of your asscheeks in his hand, kneading the soft skin as he keeps kissing you. You gasp and bite at his bottom lip, smiling as you wait for his reaction- only for a loud smack to reverberate through the room. Your ass burns from his hand and you groan, pushing your forehead against his as you grind your cunt against his cock.

“You like that?”

“Yeah”, you breathe, chest already heaving from the excitement of making Simon use his strength against you. “, do it again.”

He growls and kisses you, his broad palm rubbing over your reddened ass cheek before smacking it again. You gasp into his mouth and lean in closer, rubbing your tits against his chest. Your whole body suddenly feels restless, your cunt rubbing up against his cock while your hands roam over his body, feeling up his arms, his shoulders, his chest.

Simon bodily hauls you up and pushes his cock inside you again. Your legs shake as you try to control how quickly you sink down on him. 

Another smack to your skin makes you whimper and collapse onto him, his cock bottoming out inside of you. He grabs your thighs and you barely manage to lift yourself enough to start to ride his cock.

The sound Simon whimpers into your mouth as you roll your hips is worth ignoring the growing soreness in your muscles. 

“Fuck, that feels good”, he groans. It makes liquid heat shoot through you and you double your efforts, folding your legs over his thighs. Your eyes snap open as he rests his forehead against your collarbone, his hands losing their tight grip on you.

You reach up to cup the back of his head, fisting his hair as you try to concentrate on setting a good rhythm for him. But the way his cock fills you out is starting to make you quiver, the pleasure already mounting up to being overstimulating again.

You’re gasping into each other’s open mouths as you ride him. 

You can feel him tightening his grip on you before he starts to meet your thrusts, effectively bouncing you up and down in his lap. It makes you shake, the angle hitting something disastrous. 

“Fuck, Simon- I can’t- I’m going to cum- a-again”, you whimper. It makes him moan into your mouth and you stutter in your motion as you feel him get even harder, his thrusts short, aborted. You mewl at the feeling and dig your nails into his scalp and his shoulder.

He growls and sinks his teeth into the skin of your breast as he cums. You clench around them and feel a few tears slip over your cheeks as the last few thrusts make you cum one final time.

You collapse into each other and you let your lips brush over his temple before resting your head on his shoulder again.

He is gently stroking your back, not even minding the sweat clinging to your skin.

When he wraps his other arm around your hip and lifts the two of you, you just sigh into his skin. He gently lays you down on his bed.

“Going to be right back, love,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss against your temple. You just sigh and nod.

As soon as he isn’t covering your body anymore, you can feel yourself shivering from the sudden cold. You huff before grabbing the comforter to cover yourself. The faint sound of a window cracking open makes you bury even deeper into the blankets.

“Hey. Eyes open for me”, he grumbles and you startle awake with a confused “huh?”. 

Simon is sitting on the bed, holding out a glass.

“Drink something.”

You groan and bat at his hand but he just wraps it around the cool bottle of water.

“Brat”, he murmurs and you open one eye to glare at him before popping the lid open and gulping down some water. After handing him the leftovers, you watch as he immediately downs it all in one go. He sets the bottle down on the nightstand and just looks at you for a moment.

“Come on. Gotta go shower.”

You close your eye again.

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm. Come on. Up.”

You go willingly into his arms.

He is still naked, still warm, and you sigh as you get up into his warm embrace. You stumble towards the shower together. He makes you check the temperature and adjusts it until it’s boiling hot and just to your liking.

When you return from your shower, the afternoon sun bathes the bedroom in warm light.

“You still want your coffee and croissant? Or d’you want to take a nap first, princess?”

You grab the shirt he'd discarded and throw it on before turning towards him.

“Maybe we can… do coffee and croissants on your couch?”

“Yeah, alright. You mind if we catch up on some shows I've missed out on?”

“I’ll probably fall asleep.”

“Alright love”, he murmurs, before pressing another kiss to your temple and wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the couch. Halfway there, he just picks you up bridal style, letting your snuggle into his shoulder while he presses another kiss to your forehead.

-

Thanks for reading!

Requests are open and always appreciated

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism guys comforting YOU

G/N hc feat all my blorbos. Jakey, Sammy, Goo, Gun, Vin, Ryuhei

You're stressed and upset. Overwhelmed. Day gone from bad to worse and you're seeking comfort-

Jake comes in with the jokes, makes you laugh even when you want to cry.

Wipes away your tears with careful fingers, yourself not even sure if they're from laughter or distress.

He does pick his moments though, and knows when to put a serious face on.

When you're too upset and it's not the right mood, he'll pull you into his lap, envelop you with his arms.

Tells you how amazing you are, how precious to him, how much better you make his life. Until little by little, you start to feel more like yourself.

Samuel holds you steady against him.

Lets you sniffle into his expensive shirts, breathing shaky breaths against his skin.

Offers you something to blow off steam. One of his vices: drink or nicotine or maybe violent retribution.

Or even something pretty and expensive and sparkling, to take your mind off it.

If you opt for none, he'll sigh and hold you close. His nose nestled in your hair, your head resting on his chest.

He's a busy man with things to do, but you always come first. He'll be there for you for as long as you need.

Goo is outraged at whatever has pissed you off or upset you.

Takes it as a personal slight, whether it is someone making you cry, school stressing you out, job not going well or anything in between.

How dare they do this to you.

Bad mouths whatever has pissed you off so much that even you're feeling a bit bad for them.

Eventually tries to buy your happiness, or tests the water to see if it's something casual arson or grievous bodily harm may solve.

When it's none of the above, he just says your name with a soft sigh. Cups your face, peppering you in kisses until he sees your smile again.

Gun sits and listens to whatever is on your mind.

He's great at it, never showing any impatience. Quietly taking in everything you're saying.

Gives hums of encouragement, nods every now and then to urge you to continue.

Gaze focused and attentive, never glazing over or drifting away.

At the end, when you're finishing sniffling into his shoulder, he asks how he can help.

With your hand in his, thumb running over your knuckles, sweetly offers to kill anyone you like... It's not a joke.

He himself feels a pang of disappointment when you turn him down.

Vin pokes fun at you, initially.

Defaulting to his mean self even where you're concerned and especially when he's feeling uncomfortable.

At your wet eyes and downtrodden expression, he feels bad. Awful actually.

Changes tact and puts his arm around you. Gently directs your head to his shoulder and calls you an idiot for crying.

Rubs your arm soothingly regardless. Pats your head awkwardly but makes up for it with kisses to your forehead.

Asks what or who has done this and silently vows to make them puke blood all night.

Ryuhei immediately reaches for his weapon, asking "who did this to you?!"

He has promised to never make you cry or upset but that doesn't mean someone else can!

When you say no, he offers to take your mind off things in other ways. Specifically in bed-

Again you say no but he drags you to bed anyway.

"No funny business," he promises and you lie down.

Curls up behind you, wrapping you in his protective embrace.

Whispers in his native language to you, soothing and like a lullaby.

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 5

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Summary: Christmas Day, and then some...

WC: ~3.95k

You must end up falling asleep against the redhead again, because the next time you’re coherent of anything around you, Melissa isn’t there with you. You peel your eyes open, and she isn’t even in the room.

“What the hell?” you grumble to yourself. Your silent question of where the woman could possibly be is answered when she walks into the bedroom with two mugs filled with coffee.

“Hey,” Melissa smiles at you. Her eyes are soft and her smile is sweet. “Merry Christmas.” She makes her way to you and hands you the mug with your drink once you’ve sat up enough to drink the coffee.

“Merry Christmas,” you sigh quietly as you blow over the steaming mug. You take a sip and smile. You’re surprised she fixed your coffee perfectly to your liking. “You know how I like my coffee.”

“Well, we did go over it a few times,” the redhead chuckles as she sits on the mattress. “But I also do have a good memory, you know.”

“I know,” you smirk at her. “I just didn’t think you would-”

“Y/N.” Green eyes are rolled at you. “I’ve watched you make your coffee everyday for the past year and a half at school. Of course I know how you like it.”

You enjoy your first cup of coffee in bed with your ‘girlfriend’ before you sigh and throw the blankets off of your body. You shiver immediately. Before you know what’s happening, Melissa is pulling an old Abbott Elementary sweatshirt out of her bag and offering it to you.

“I- I can just wear my own,” you stammer out. God, why is she being so nice to you in private?

“Just put it on,” Melissa tells you. She holds it out more aggressively, and you can’t help the tired laugh that comes from your lips. You take it graciously, and your colleague just gives a victorious smirk.

“Thank you,” you mumble as you throw the hoodie over your head.

The redhead nods. “Alright, we should probably get down there. Your parents were asking if you were awake when I went down earlier for coffee.”

You groan. “But I’m comfortable.”

“And you can get comfortable on the couch while you eat the cinnamon buns your mom made.”

You’re out of bed in an instant, running for the door. Melissa can’t help the way that she laughs at your excitement. “Hun, they’ll still be down there when we get there.”

“You don’t understand!” you call back. You’re already halfway down the steps. “These things are my favorite things in the world!”

The redhead just rolls her eyes and grabs your discarded mug from the nightstand on your side of the bed before following in your direction. 

When she gets downstairs, you already have a plate of the sugary breakfast pastry in front of you. It’s a considerable stack, and green eyes just look at you, clearly amused.

“Did you forget something?” Melissa holds your mug up teasingly before making her way over to the coffee pot and making you another cup. When it’s finished, she comes over, and you practically pull her to sit in your lap. She makes a small noise in surprise before she smiles softly and wraps her arm around her shoulder to help balance herself.

“Open up,” you instruct as you cut off a piece of one of the cinnamon rolls. You hold it up to her mouth and wait for her to take the bite. When she does, you hear the soft moan she lets out, and- oh shit. That just lit a fire in you that you weren’t expecting. Holy shit, that was hot.

“Your mom made that?” Melissa asks through a mouthful. 

You cough lowly, trying to extinguish the flame that her moan did to you. “Uh, y-yeah. Every Christmas.”

“I can’t wait to have this every Christmas with you.” It’s a hushed whisper, so nobody else would be able to hear it, even with Aunt Jo now at the coffee maker. She says it with so much conviction you almost believe her. You’re not quite sure how to respond, so you just lean in and kiss her lips. Somehow, this kiss feels more natural than the rest of them. It’s warm and soft, filled with a sleepy morning haze despite the caffeine already rushing through your veins, and you can taste the cinnamon glaze on her lips. This kiss too, lasts longer than the other quick pecks that you’ve shared over the weekend- this is a real kiss.

When you pull away, your cheeks heat up, and you giggle slightly. Melissa just presses your foreheads together and smiles before pecking your lips again.

That’s when your Aunt Jo clears her throat as she enters the kitchen. “Girls, we’re all very happy that you’re in love, but please… not at the kitchen counter.”

The shade of red that your cheeks becomes is about the shade of your ‘girlfriend’s’ hair. “S- sorry Aunt Jo.”

She just shakes her head in good nature. “No you’re not.” She fixes her coffee quickly before giving the two of you a wink and exiting quickly.

You look to Melissa and take a deep breath, clearly getting ready to confront what is happening between the two of you- this is something different than what yesterday was. But she just gives you a look that tells you, not now. Your coworker believes that you’re going to tell her to tone it down, and selfishly, she doesn’t want to. She’s treating you the way she’s wanted to treat you for a long while now, and she’s seeing the sweet side of you that doesn’t hate her. She doesn’t want to let that go- not quite yet. 

And because you find yourself enjoying this little life that the two of you have right now, you agree with a soft nod of your head. You do pick up the plate in front of you and your coffee though and jerk your head in the direction of the living room. She picks up her own coffee mug and follows you in.

While you sit on the couch, Melissa goes for the blanket that you were using last night. She knows you were cold this morning, so grabbing the blanket while she’s still standing as opposed to sitting is a good choice in her opinion. She drapes it over your lap before pulling you in close as she settles in with you.

“Merry Christmas,” you greet your parents with a smile on your face. The redhead repeats your words, to which your parents give warm smiles.

“Did the two of you sleep well?” your father asks.

You nod. “Was just kinda cold. But Lis was there to help.”

“Finally found yourself a human furnace?” your mom chuckles. “Even in sweatpants, and your-” She catches a look at the Abbott sweatshirt with dates from before you were at the school. “your girlfriend’s sweatshirt?”

“How sweet,” Aunt Jo coos. “Sharing clothes. I remember always stealing my husband’s clothes… still wear them sometimes when I need a reminder he’s still here with me.”

Melissa just dots a few kisses to your hairline before stealing the fork from your hand and feeding herself a bite of your shared breakfast.

After breakfast, your parents bring out a few presents that they got for you despite the fact that you told them repeatedly you don’t need any Christmas presents anymore. They also managed to get Melissa a few little trinkets. Green eyes sparkle with appreciation for your family. You pull out the little gifts that you purchased for your parents and your Aunt Jo; they take them gratefully. And then they look to you and your coworker with expectant looks.

“We decided to do presents tomorrow,” Melissa explains the reason you don’t have gifts for each other.

The three older adults nod, and your dad has a smirk. “Don’t wanna get caught opening something ridiculous in front of us?”

You just put your head in your hands at what your father has just insinuated.

“Al!” your mother smacks his arm.

Christmas Day passes by in a blissful haze full of warm drinks, soft kisses, blankets piled high, and “A Christmas Story” on repeat. You allow yourself to fully relax in the presence of Melissa for the first time. It doesn’t feel like it’s for show- her kisses are longer, they’re sweeter, you feel like you crave them. If her arm isn’t around you or her hand isn’t somewhere on your body, you feel cold. But the second she’s back with you, you feel like you’re on top of the world. None of this feels like an act to you anymore, as much as you know it is. Because the second you leave your parents’ house and leave this fake life that you’ve created behind, Melissa Schemmenti will be back to the hard ass teacher that you love to hate.

After a day that passes by quickly, you and Melissa find yourself retiring to your bedroom for the night. And you that as much as you don’t want to let go of this, it’s all a fantasy- it isn’t real. At the core of you, you hate the redhead that you’ve spent the weekend with.

“Lis,” you sigh. “We need to-”

“Not tonight,” your grade level partner stops you from saying anymore. “Please.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you counter.

She quirks her lips to one side. “I do. Can we please just… not tonight?”

You take pity on her and relent. “Okay.”

She gives you a grateful look, and then she’s crawling into bed. You climb in next to her, and you attempt to keep your distance despite the fact that you want nothing more than to curl into her hold and allow her to keep you safe in her arms for this last night.

Your dreams are quite similar to the ones you had the previous night, and you heart tells you unconsciously what you truly want in life. You want Melissa. You want all of the warmth that came with this weekend. You want to be the one who allows the rough and tough second grade teacher to let down her walls and show you a side of her very few people get to see- you want a life with her.

When you blink your eyes open, it’s four in the morning- at least that’s what the clock on the nightstand says. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the fact that both you and Melissa curled into each other while you were asleep. Once again, your two bodies have interlaced, and it’s hard to decipher where your figure ends and hers begins.

You press a soft kiss to her head, allowing yourself to stay in this sleepy stupor until your brain catches up to your body. But then it does and you slowly, as to make sure that she stays asleep, you untangle yourself from the redhead. You slip out of the bed and make your way over to the chair that faces the window. You lower yourself into it and take a deep breath before you begin to silently hash out your feelings.

You absolutely adore this sweet and warm side of Melissa that she’s shown you. You believe that even the side of her that is so hard and difficult to read wouldn’t even frustrate you as much as it used to because you feel like it’s a front at this point in your relationship with your colleague. To you, it seems as though her exterior protects the sweet side of her. Perhaps she’s been burned before, or maybe she was taught to keep that inside of her to protect herself. 

Regardless, Melissa Schemmenti is not nearly as tough as she plays, and you feel honored to know that she has a soft side, even if it was for show. But then your mind wanders to the fact that she did and said a few things to you in privacy, or so quietly in front of your family that you doubt they could hear her- she allowed her true colors to slip through the cracks.

You don’t notice that tears begin to trail down your face- you’re in love with this woman. But she hates you- she absolutely detests you and everything that you are, at least that’s what you think. So, despite it being the last thing that you want to do, you make the decision that you will go back to hating the redhead as soon as you are out of this house. You’ve always hated her. It’s what’s expected of you at this point. It’s what you have to do. You have to forget about the last two days full of warmth and kindness and what you’ve come to realize morphed into a real love for the redhead. And it breaks you heart to the point that you feel a physical ache in your chest.

In all of your heartache, you also don’t notice the way that Melissa blinks her eyes open. She doesn’t see you laying next to her, and she assumes that you’ve just gotten up to go to the bathroom. But then she hears your quiet sniffles from where you’re sitting a few feet away, facing the window and looking up at the moon. Silently, the redhead makes her way over to you sighs softly.

You jump just slightly once you’re made aware of the fact that your coworker is awake and standing with you. You don’t even turn- just wipe away the tears on your cheeks. Melissa’s soft hands are on your shoulders, and she can feel how tense you are. She quietly begins to attempt to work out some of the tension that you’re holding.

“You want to tell me what’s got you up and cryin’ at 4:30 in the mornin?” You feel a kiss being brushed against your hairline- once, twice, and then a third time.

You allow her to, somewhat melting at her touch. But then you can’t quite hold it in anymore, and you burst out of your seat. The redhead jumps at your sudden movement, but she allows you to get up. You rush your way over to your bag and pull out the three hundred dollars that you know you owe her.

“Take it,” you huff as you hold out the bills aggressively. “Take it, and then we can go back to hating each other like we always do.”

Melissa frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not taking your money, Y/N.”

“What?” you ask her incredulously. “What the hell do you mean you’re not taking it?” You throw the cash at her.

She squats down and picks it up with a few grunts. She holds it out for you to take, but you refuse. “I won’t take your money because I don’t want it.”

“You? Not wanting money? That’s rich. Isn’t that why you did this? Came to my parents’ house with me for Christmas- for the money?” you hiss out. “You hate me, I hate you, and this is all just an elaborate lie for me to get my parents off my-”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Melissa mutters as she folds her arms over her chest. “So fucking stupid.”

“I’m stupid? I’m stupid?” you ask her. “I’m not the one who agreed to come to a woman’s parents’ house when I hate her!”

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe I don’t hate you?” the redhead asks you. “That I actually like you and enjoyed being here with you?”

You scoff. “You’ve always hated me- always hated new coworkers! We’ve never liked-” Your cut off because Melissa pulls you in for a kiss and stops your tirade. You’re frozen in your place for a few seconds before you kiss her back. Her hand finds its way to your cheek, and she cups it gently, a complete opposite of the way that she’s passionately kissing you. She pulls you closer by the waist with her other hand. 

When air becomes a necessity, you pull away with eyes as wide as saucers. “Wha-?”

“I don’t hate you,” Melissa whispers. “I mean… I wanted to. But the things that I told your family yesterday about me fallin’ for you? That wasn’t a lie- not in the slightest.” 

“What?”

Green eyes are soft as she looks into your own. “I never hated you, hun.”

“What?” you repeat.

“I wanted to,” she chuckles that soft warm laugh as her arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close. “I wanted to hate you more than I hated Janine at first- because I knew you were stunningly gorgeous, and if I at least hated your personality, you would be easier to avoid and not fall for.”

“You-”

“But then you hated me and weren’t afraid of me- wasn’t afraid to show it either,” Melissa chuckles. “And I liked that. Most newbies are terrified of me, but you weren’t. You had a fire in ya, and I liked that. So, to keep your attention, I pretended to hate you. The only way to get your attention was to be snarky and sarcastic- I’d rather have you hate me than not have you talk to me.”

“You’re-”

“Besides, it’s fucking hot when you’re all riled up and angry,” the redhead shrugs. “But I think I like the soft side of you more.”

“I- I-” you stammer out. “I thought you hated me this whole time….” you whisper, and then you lean over and kiss her again. “That’s why I hated you.”

“Like I said, I wanted to,” Melissa chuckles. “But I never did. You’re good at the job, the kids love you, the rest of the staff likes you. And you’re beautiful. What’s not to like?”

“So… you really never hated me this whole time?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I like givin’ you a hard time though, don’t get me wrong. But it was kinda my way of flirting after a while.”

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh as you kiss her again.

“So are you,” she mutters against your lips.

You pull away again, and you smile as you press your foreheads together. “So…”

“If it wasn’t clear to you already, none of this weekend was acting for me,” the redhead tells you softly. “This is how I’ve wanted to be with you since you started.”

“I-” you hesitate. “How am I supposed to know it wasn’t acting though? I mean… I was dreading this weekend, and I- I fell for the sweet Melissa I got to see for the past few days, but if that’s not who I’m really going to-”

“Y/N,” your colleague sighs. She takes you gently by the hand and leads you back to the bed. The two of you lay down, and she holds you close. “I’m always goin’ t’be a South Philly girl, but I do have a heart and soul- wouldn’t be a teacher otherwise. I- I can’t promise that I’ll ever stop bein’ a sarcastic asshole, but I do have my moments of tenderness. That wasn’t acting. I’ve wanted to hold you and kiss you and stop having to pretend to hate you for some time now. I’ve loved this weekend- your family is something special, and I can see where you get all your spunk and sweetness from. I like it. I like you- love you, even.”

You bite your bottom lip and look at her in the darkness. “I- I like you too. And I think… I think there might be something between us that’s real.”

“I think so too,” Melissa mumbles against your head. “You wanna give it a shot? A real shot- me an’ you?”

A smile appears on your face. “I think I’d like that.”

Christmas the next year is a fun one. After beginning to officially date, you and Melissa fell head over heels in love with each other. This year, the two of you make your way up to your parents’ house as an actual couple, and not just as a fake couple. You’re fairly certain your parents are more excited to see Melissa than they are to see you; Aunt Jo too.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” your mother pulls the redhead into a tight hug. Your girlfriend hugs back with the same fervor, although she does roll her eyes.

“I saw you last week, Nora,” Melissa quips. “But it’s good to see you too.”

“Came back for more?” your dad chuckles as he too hugs your colleague.

She nods. “I wouldn’t want to spend our first year as a couple anywhere else.”

Your eyes widen. You had never told your parents that last year was not real. “Second,” you quickly amend.

But Aunt Jo is too fast to catch on. “No, no. She said first.”

The two of you share a quick glance, and your lips form into a tight line before you sigh. “So… I have something to confess.”

Years later, you’re officially Mrs. Schemmenti. You have a beautiful little girl, Sara. She’s just turned two, and she couldn’t be more of a light in your life. But you’ve also finally gotten her settled in bed and asleep. You and your wife are laying on the couch together as you usually do after a long day of teaching and then coming home to handle your own little tornado of a child (you often tell the redhead that that part of your little girl comes from her entirely). 

You’re admiring your engagement and wedding rings before you look to Melissa’s. You don’t get to look at hers for long though, because you hear your baby crying from just up the stairway, and you sigh.

The redhead just buries a kiss in your hair before promising that if Sara doesn’t settle, she’ll go up. And the crying doesn’t stop, so you feel yourself being shimmied off of Melissa five minutes later before she heads up the stairs. A few moments later, she returns with your baby girl in her arms.

“Oh honey,” you instinctively reach for your daughter.

“Baby girl just wanted Momma,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully as she hands over the little one. “Never Ma, always Momma. Ain’t that right, Sara?”

Your daughter just gives a toothy grin as she lays her head on your shoulder. 

Where you would normally lean into the couch cushions to attempt to soothe your little girl to sleep, you sit up straight, and your brows furrow.

“What’s wrong, mi amore?” your wife asks in concern. This is so unlike you.

You shake your head and smile. “I just got this… this feeling of deja vu. Like I’ve lived this moment before.”

“Maybe you dreamt it,” the redhead offers as she cozies up to you on the couch and begins to run her fingers through your little girl’s wispy hair.

You think for a few moments before you know why you know this moment. “I- I had a dream about this moment that first Christmas we spent together… it was this moment.”

“You mean the Christmas we pretended to be together?”

You nod. “I- wow. I should’ve known then and there that I was going to fall in love with you.”

“And instead, you denied your feelings like an idiota,” Your wife laughs before she presses a kiss to your head.

“You were an idiot too,” you fire out, but the glimmer in your eyes tells her that you have no ill-intention with those words.

She shrugs. “Hey, I still got the girl, didn’t I?"

You roll your eyes as you purse your lips for her to kiss you. Of course, she does. "I guess you did."

And just like that... this sweet little fic is over. I hope you enjoyed!

Xoxo -Janey

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch 

[raeinyourdreams]

'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x1/x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

[haikyu-mp4]

Nice to look at

word count; 727 – f!reader, use of princess, suggestive

“I’m tired of this,” you announced to no one in particular and stomped your way over to Matsukawa Issei. He sat on top of a desk, one foot resting on the side of the chair where Hanamaki sat and talked to whoever sat behind him. With every step, you lost some of your previously gained confidence until you were standing right in front of him with your arms crossed and an unconvinced frown on your face as you asked him “Can I help you?”

“Depends, what are your services?”

If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from your ears. He was always like this with you, seeming to love riling you up. Luckily, you were annoyed enough to not get too flustered by it, but that didn’t help the smirk on his face. “Why are you always glaring at me?”

He barely raised an eyebrow at the accusation. “I’m not glaring at you.”

“Really? Because it sure feels like it-“

“I’m not glaring,” Mattsun said. Makki scoffed from beside you even though he was pretending to mind his own business.

“I heard you the firs-” you tried to say, but he interrupted you again.

“I’m staring.” You took in a sharp breath, suddenly very aware of both his friends and yours looking at you two.

“…why?”

He glanced at his friends, giving them a stern look as if telling them to mind their own business. Then he looked back at you. “Because I think you’re nice to look at.”

“Oh.” This time Mattsun fully raised an eyebrow, which made you feel smaller under his gaze. He got off the desk so he ended up standing much closer, looking down at you with those lazy eyes. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You’re welcome, princess.”

“Take a picture next time, yeah? Might last longer,” you said, as if that would have been so much better. Usually, this kind of behaviour from men disgusted you, but with Matsukawa? It was different… and he knew you liked it. He leaned closer, making sure no one else would hear his next words.

“The kind of pictures I’d like to take of you can't be taken in public,” he answered, and you could swear your knees weren’t this weak before. His eyes stared into yours and you stared back for a moment to try and catch your breath. Is it hot in here?

“Pervert,” you whispered. After that, you walked back to your friends with Mattsun staring at your back until he huffed and went back to the conversation he had with his friends. You were a bit stubborn, he liked that.

When classes ended for the day you were passing by his desk on your way to the door when he grabbed your arm, making you spin around to face him. You squinted at him suspiciously, shaking his arm off but still staying to hear him out. He leaned down beside your face and tilted his mouth towards your ear, which made his breath run over your neck.

“Does this mean I can take you out?” he asked, and you bit the inside of your lip as a chill ran down your spine. You looked around as if it was an intimate, more private moment that your classmates shouldn’t see, cheeks flaring pink.

“At no point in that conversation did I ever imply th-” you tried to answer, but he was so very fond of interrupting you today. He leaned back to look at you, and then his tongue ran over his lips like he was hungry. Your eyes shamefully followed it.

“You like coffee? Tea? I know a nice cat cafe.” he asked casually as if the foulest thoughts weren’t running through his mind when he looked at you. You simply had to break eye contact when your mind actually started telling you to give in. Let him treat you to something, what is there to lose?

“After your practice, come get me in the library,” you said like it was an order, still not meeting his eyes as you pulled your shoulders back and walked off. Your friends were staying at school to finish some homework anyway, might as well wait for him.

“See you, princess.” Mattsun’s eyes followed you out of the classroom, but this time the feeling of his eyes on your back made you feel powerful.

masterlist

/this was originally for Suna but then I was like wAit

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[satorusugurugurl]

Can i request modern au!sukuna and reader just making out in the living room during gojos house party🫠 established relationship of course🙏

I Got You

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x FAB Reader (MODERN AU)

Word Count: 1,983

Content Working: alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, anxiety attack, making out, suggestive

A/N: This request was so flipping cute! Loving this Modern!Sukuna AU! Like always send me suggestions!! I love hearing about your chaotic horny brain worms!

“Hello, welcome, welcome!” Gojo Satoru yelled over the bass booming from inside the house. “Step inside my humble abode!” You wanted to roll your eyes at ‘humble abode’ as you and Sukuna stepped inside Gojo’s mansion. “I am your gracious host, sober as per usual! Beer pong is in the back; spin the bottle has turned into strip poker, so that's been moved into the basement.” Your blue-eyed friend peered over his dark sunglasses. “There's pizza, edibles, and drinks in the kitchen! Have fun, don't fuck in my room again. Suguru and I are chilling in the hot tub if you need us!”

With the completion of his speech, your host was off towards the back, dodging several drunk people. Gojo’s house parties were always the best. Hell, it's where you met Sukuna. They were full of chaos, laughter, and lots of memories. Usually, you'd be dragging Sukuna to the kitchen by now and snacking on edibles, nursing a rum and coke.

But you were a bit anxious.

Work has been so tense this week. Endless piles of paperwork, long days. Every day was the same: get up, go to work, come home, and make dinner before passing out in bed. You’d been so stressed it didn't help that you hadn't even spent time with Sukuna all week. So when Gojo invited you for a small get-together, you jumped at the opportunity. A party with your closest friends would ease the tension in your back.

What you walked into was not at all a small get-together. This was a full-ass Gojo Satoru party. It had probably started as a small get-together, but word probably spread, and Gojo would never say no to a good time. The more the merrier! But as the smell of weed and shouting echoed through the house, you were beginning to regret your choice.

Sukuna peered down at you from the corner of his eye. He could see the stress etched into your features. He had offered to take you to dinner, something quiet and calm after your hard week. But when you said you needed to blow off some steam, he didn't fight you. He'd been there, raising his two brothers. Work and school had him running to parties like this all the time before he met you.

If this is what you needed, he'd support you.

“Hey,” he bent over next to your ear, “you good? Want to get a drink?”

“Mmhmm!”

Taking your hand in his, Sukuna led you through the crowded halls into the kitchen. You searched for Nanami, Shoko, or anyone you knew, but you saw a sea of strangers. This was fine. It was okay; Sukuna was here. You were going to be OK.

“Want a rum and coke?” Sukuna yelled over the blaring music. His hand released yours. “Or something else?”

In the instant he was no longer holding you, you felt it. Your hands were shaking, and your index finger twitched—the telltale signs of an anxiety attack for you. Quickly folding your hands behind your back, you swallowed hard, heart pounding in your ears. You needed to get away, to find a quiet spot, but the last thing you wanted to do was make Sukuna worry about you.

“Surprise me!” You yelled back, looking around. “I'm going to go use the restroom!”

Your boyfriend had just started towards the drinks when you shouted at him that you were going to the bathroom. When he turned around, he watched you push through the growing crowd, clenching your left hand as you did. Sighing softly, Sukuna headed for the fridge to get what was needed.

You were shaking, eyes darting through the smokey halls, searching for privacy. The bathroom was locked, couples blocked the stairs, and people flooded through the front door. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you needed to get away from the noise and calm down! You rushed down the hall, finding the living room empty, except for a beer bottle on the coffee table. This must have been where Spin the Bottle was being played earlier. Thank fuck it turned into strip poker.

Plopping down on the couch, you stared down at your shaking hands. The index finger and middle finger twitched, pulsing as waves of anxiety slammed into you. To fight back tears, you shut your eyes tight just as your leg began to bounce. This was a nasty attack. Calm, stay calm. It would be okay.

Why didn't you listen to your boyfriend?! From the second you got in the car, you felt off. Something was going to happen, but you had no clue what it could be like a shadow figure was stalking you, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. Now that you were in the midst of your anxiety attack, it all made sense.

“Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.” You whispered to yourself. “Don't cry.”

Despite telling yourself that, it didn't prevent the tears streaming down your cheeks. Fuck. This was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night. Poor Sukuna wouldn't want to spend the night like this, either. He was stuck taking care of his weak-ass girlfriend, who couldn't calm herself down. He deserved more. Before your thoughts could spiral further, the couch dipped under someone's weight.

Turning your head to see who it was, you gasped as Sukuna cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as you kissed back. He pulled back, thumb brushing against your cheek before his lips were firmly against yours once more. The second kiss was deeper as he gently eased you back into the corner of the armrest.

Whimpering against your boyfriend's lips, you lifted, still shaking hands to his shoulders. Your fingers trailed over muscles as his own hands moved down the curves of your body. Sukuna’s grip was firm, holding you tight and reassuring you that he was here. That you weren't alone.

Sukuna’s tongue darted out, gently licking at your bottom lip, begging for you to allow him inside. You obeyed simultaneously, opening your mouth. His tongue slid into your mouth, deepening the already passionate kiss. Furrowing your brows, you pulled him on top of you as you laid back. Obliging your wants, Sukuna followed you, his body pressed against you. In all of the movements, never once did he break the connection.

You hadn't had a drink of alcohol or eaten one of the edibles, but you felt hazy. All thanks to Sukuna’s tongue buried in your mouth. He massaged your tongue gently with his as his hands mapped out the dips and curves of your body. Making mental notes of all the places he touched that made you squirm. The second he got you home later, those spots he would pay extra attention to. He'd mark them up, suck on them until you were begging for more.

That would be for later on. Right at this moment, you were his sole concern. He paid close attention to your body and how the tension melted away. Trembling that was driven by anxiety shifted into trembles of pleasure. The kiss meant to ground you slowly twisted into a kiss the two of you found yourselves lost in.

Your hands ran through his soft hair, pulling him closer to you. Your tongue moved against his, gently prodding and massaging it, tasting the faint traces of mint and rum. God, you felt high, so high off of him. Off of the Ryomen Sukuna, the man you were so lucky to call your boyfriend. He left you breathless in every way, shape, and form.

Which is why you pushed him back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you gulped down the air. While you recovered from the breathtaking kiss, Sukuna eyed you. His chest heaving as he sat back, giving you some space. Fuck, he looked good. His hair was in disarray, his shirt wrinkled around the collar, and his eyes dark with lust. The two of you were drunk off each other, and you had the urge to get wasted, to drown yourself in him and nothing else.

You sprung towards him, sitting in his lap as your lips found his. This kiss wasn't as gentle as the first (if you could call it gentle). You nipped at his lips, causing him to groan against your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his skull. His hands ran up and down your back, encouraging you to keep going. You cupped his face, kissing him like your life was on the line.

Sumina moaned as you made out like teenagers on the couch. His hands tangled in your hair, tugging Y/H/C strands as you sucked and bit at his bottom lip. Fuck, you felt like a teenager. It felt good to lose yourself in his kisses.

“Sukuna! Hey, I couldn't find my ice pack—oh!” you pulled away from Sukuna’s lips, panting heavily. Gojo was wet, towel around his waist as he held a bag of frozen peas. “Well, huh, I guess you have it covered?” Your white-haired friend asked, tossing Sukuna the peas.

Suluna caught the bag, glaring at Gojo with flushed cheeks. “Yes, now go!”

“Okay, okay! Just remember to wrap it up!”

“Fuck you, Gojo!” Sukuna yelled after him as he rushed off. “Stupid fuckin’ bastard.” Sukuna sighed, leaning his head back against the couch, his very hard erection pressing against you. “Ruining the mood.”

You cocked an eyebrow, eyes darting from your boyfriend to the peas, trying to put the two together. While your mind tried to connect the dots, Sukuna sighed. The sound rumbled in his chest as he picked up the bag, pressing it gently against the back of your neck.

The cold jolted down your spine, making you jump, your hips rutting against him. “Fuck! That's cold!” Sukuna hummed, eyes wandering over your face.

“Good means it's working.” Words trailed off before he looked away, flushing a deeper shade of red. “You feelin’ better?”

“Huh?”

“You were having an anxiety attack, right?”

You blinked at his words; he knew he had seen it. “How did you know?”

“Well, for starters, I’m your boyfriend.” His signature cocky smirk graced his lips. “Plus, you kept clenching your hand, taking super deep breaths, and I noticed your fingers twitching.” God, how embarrassing was this? You groaned, pressing your forehead against his. “Hey, it's okay, I got you. I would have been here sooner, but I couldn't find any ice packs.” his hand gently rubbed circles into your thigh. “So, I had to use my kissing skills to get you to hold your breath.”

“You do listen.” Holding your breath to stop a panic attack was something you and his brother Choso had talked about weeks ago over dinner. He had seemed bored, rolling his eyes as you both excitedly gushed over a paper he was writing for school.

“Of course, I listen.” His hand squeezed your thigh. “I've been listening to you since we played Seven Minutes in Heaven six months ago.”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I think you mean an hour in heaven.”

Sukuna pulled the bag of peas away, shutting his eyes as he smiled. “An hour that changed my life completely.” His words had you biting your lip.

“Say Kuna~” you rocked against him, pleased to find him still hard. “What do you say we play that again? I want you to kiss me until I see the pearly gates.”

You didn't have to say it twice. The pea bag was thrown across the room, and frozen green peas rolled in every direction. You squealed as you were thrown over your boyfriend's shoulder, getting carried off to a more private location. You were squirming in excitement when his hand firmly smacked your ass.

“Oh no, look at that. Gojo left his door unlocked~!”

[shadesslut]

ethan finishing in y/n before she could orgasm so he finger fucks her

Making this my first kinktober post no I don’t care

𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 DAY 1

Thank you for your request!!

Creampie

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, creampie)

Main Masterlist

𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

🦇

🦇

🦇

Ethan smiled against her lips. He had been waiting for this all week, just to feel her body against his. School had been stressful recently for him. Exams had taken over Ethan’s mind for the past three weeks, so he was excited to blow off some steam with his girlfriend. She whined, rutting her hips against his. Her skirt was pulled up, and Ethan grabbed a handful of her ass. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so worked up,” She cooed, caressing his back with her acrylics. Ethan shuddered, and he continued to kiss all over her face. He only nodded in response. He really was worked up. He could feel how hard he was already.

“Please,” He whispered. His cheeks were red, and his curls were messy. His eyes had a gloss in them that screamed “I wanna fuck you”. Which is exactly what Ethan told her. She slightly giggled; he had always thought that sound was lovely.

She was splayed on the bed. Her hair covered the top of her shoulders as it fell perfectly against her silk sheets. Her eyes were heavy, and she slid one leg up just enough to give Ethan a sneak at her panties. He stared, unashamedly. He raised his shirt over his head, never moving his eyes away. She smiled, and she ran a finger alongside her bottom lip, smearing some of her black honey lipstick, her favorite shade. Ethan fell down a rabbit hole with her, one he knew he couldn’t get out of. He gazed at her as if she was a painting. He thought she was beautiful, she was beautiful. 

“I’m obsessed with you.” Ethan told her as he crawled on top of her. His head dipped as he kissed her neck.

“I know,” She responded.

She grinded her hips up against his, her panties forming a wet spot at the hardness of his dick. He sighed at her hands quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down. A soft, but prominent moan escaped Ethan’s lips as he slid in. “So good,” he whispered, shutting his eyes. 

He slowly moved his hips back and forth, rocking against her. His dick slid in and out of her and made squelching noises each time. 

Oh no.

Ethan whimpered as he felt himself reach his high. He desperately prayed to whoever was there to not let him cum yet. Apparently, no one was there listening. 

He came inside of her, moaning loudly. He hid his face in the crook of her neck in embarrassment. He whined, still involuntarily rutting his hips. 

“Did you….?” She asked slowly. 

He nodded, still hiding. He for sure thought he ruined the mood. Never in his life did he think he’d cum in less than ten seconds. 

“It’s okay, babe,” She cooed as she played with his hair. Her walls tightened around him as he twitched, climbing down from his high. “Just make it up to me baby,” She said seductively, pulling at his hand to place it near her cunt. 

He swallowed, taking a second to himself before sliding out of her, his cum starting to drip out. He inserted two of his fingers; his index and ring. He pushed deeper, also pushing his cum deeper inside her. “Does this feel good?” Ethan asked softly, glancing from her cunt to her eyes. She nodded frantically at the feeling of his fingers curling. 

Ethan pressed his body against hers, his fingers still thrusting in and out of her. 

“Fuck Ethan, I’m getting close,” she whined, lifting her hips up. He curled his fingers one more time, and she let out a guttural moan, finishing all over his fingers. 

He slid his fingers out, both of their cum mixed on his fingers. He raised his hand up, sticking out his tongue as he caught the white liquid that dripped off. He stuffed both fingers in his mouth, humming, licking them clean. “You taste delicious,”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

05 — THESE THINGS EAT AT YOUR BONES

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

You were seventeen when you enlisted.

Obviously, you had to lie about your age – just a year off, not a drastic difference. The recruiters wouldn’t care enough to double check, anyways. Anyone willing to join their forces was good enough in their books.

You’d been desperate, desperate for a sense of community, for a home, for something to occupy your time with.

Things hadn’t been easy after your mother had passed.

She’d raised you on her own; having taken you from your father before you could realise what a father was. Said he was a bad man, didn’t deserve an angel like yourself. Sometimes, you wished that you’d known him, or at least had a father figure to look up to.

That was rare, however. Your mother had done a great job in raising you – making sure you had morals and looked out for others. Always had a roof over your head, food made with love in your tummy.

It was only three months prior to your enlistment that she passed.

While you were at school, she was shot and killed in your childhood home. The day you walked through that front door, backpack a hefty weight on your shoulders, and saw her wide-eyed corpse on the living room carpet, was the day that a piece of you died.

That night, with the cool fabric of the paramedic’s shock blanket around your frame, you looked up what happens after you die with shaky, blood-stained hands. A question you hadn’t had to consider. Not until then.

The police wrote down your stilted words in their government-issued notepads, attempts of sympathy on their faces.

All you could focus on was the tap tap tap of your foot against the carpet, the chewed up flesh of your inner cheek, and the burning of your eyes.

You had, thankfully, managed a choked up explanation of what you’d seen.

“I came home. From school. She was just. There. On the carpet. Her eyes were open,” you managed to whisper, eyes remaining in your lap.

“How did you feel when you saw her?” The officer asked.

You had half the mind to ask him that very same question. You didn’t, of course.

“I felt that she deserved a better death than this. Sir.”

The time after that passed in quick, blurry memories. A hand on your shoulder here, a trauma nurse there, all the while your mind could only supply you with the image of the one person you had. Gone.

“Here.”

You’d looked up with bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. The man looked to be in his late forties, with greying hair and saggy features. In his hands was a steaming cup of tea – extended towards you. With trembling fingers, you took it from the man.

“Thank you,” you’d murmured, before blowing across the liquid with a soft breath. It rippled with the flowing air, tea leaves simmering on the bottom. If you looked hard enough, you could make out a tree.

“Is it alright if I join you?” He asked, gesturing to the chair in front of you. You nodded, and he moved to get comfortable in his seat, eyes remaining on you. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

That was, funnily enough, the first time you’d heard those words said to you. 

“I’m Herschel Shepherd,” the man supplied, with a small, comforting smile. He extended a weathered hand to you, and after a moment, you accepted it with a light shake. “I think I might know who’s responsible for your mother’s death.”

You swallowed. “What? Are you,” you worked your heavy tongue, “Are you in the FBI?”

He loosed a hearty chuckle at that, before shaking his head. “No, kid. I’m a bit higher up than that.”

You didn’t have it in you to push. Not then, not with the smell of blood a consistent rot in your nose. You just nodded, accepting that explanation, squeezing your hands together for comfort.

“There’s been some rumours,” Shepherd leaned his elbows against his knees, lowering himself to meet you at eye level. “Of a secret organisation, searching and killing those affiliated with the army. Especially those who served, and then ran.”

Your brows furrowed, mouth opening and closing around nothing. “What does this have to do. With anything – my mum, she wasn’t –”

“She was, kid,” Shepherd interrupted with a raised hand. “She was a renowned Lieutenant. Served for ten years.”

Tap tap tap, your foot goes.

“She would’ve told me,” you managed out, throat choking up and nostrils flaring. “She wouldn’t have hid that from me. I’d know. You’re lying.”

“She didn’t tell you to keep you safe,” he urged, resting his hand on your bouncing knee in comfort. “But… This is more than just her. This is an attack on our country, on you, kid. I’m investigating this group, their ideals, their plans. You can help.”

You shook your head adamantly. “No. This has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you,” Shepherd immediately retorted, and you felt your chest caving in, your shoulders deflating. “It’s up to you. I hope to see you in my regiment, kid.”

Then, he’d stood, and dropped a card onto your lap. Without another word, he left.

It was later that night, when you found yourself near passing out, that you’d read his business card. It had his name, his title – Lieutenant General – and a regiment. You weren’t sure how any of it worked, if you could do this, if you were made for something like the army. That night, you’d studied and watched and learned everything you could about his regiment.

Three months later, you’d stood before him, gun in hand.

He just smiled, knowingly, and clapped a hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and whispered, “Together, we’ll avenge her.”

And you did, under his wing. You set things right.

*

Your ears ring, the bumps of the vehicle doing nothing to snap you out of your daze. It’s like your insides have turned inside out, every molecule of liquid evaporated with a single name.

“He’s a good man,” you manage to say, breaking the stunned silence of the 141. You don’t dare to look up, to see their expressions, their apprehension. “He saved me. Multiple times. He wouldn’t hurt anyone without a reason, he wouldn’t.”

Even as you say the words, try and plead, you find yourself losing faith. It’s a devastating thing, one that has you wanting to wretch your near-empty stomach.

“We did some digging,” Price murmurs, sounding sorrowful and almost guilty. “We found the truth.”

The entire time that Price retells the intel he and ‘Laswell’ found, you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into your pit of despair. Like you’re clawing with your nails to get out, yet all you’re finding is unrelenting stone, breaking the keratin with every scratch.

By the time that all the information has been told, your body feels as though it’s frozen. 

It isn’t until you feel a thumb wipe against your cheek that you realise you’re crying. Finally, finally, you look up, and meet Soap’s mirthful eyes. His thumb is rough where it wipes away your tears, gathering the salty liquid against the ridges of his fingertips.

Could it get worse than this? Worse than being told that the only other man in your life – the only other person you’d trusted – was a bad man? Working with Graves? How hadn’t you known? Why hadn’t Graves told you –

Why. Why. Why?

“He was the closest thing I had to a father,” you manage, feeling almost manic with it. “He – he and Graves, they’re all I have, I can’t, you can’t–”

You barely manage to open the small window before you’re hurling your empty guts, nothing coming out but air and some bile burning the back of your throat. Your throat, eyes, your entire body aches.

Two large hands rub at your back, and you can hear words being said, but you can’t understand them, can’t hear anything but a low buzz in the back of your mind. Your breath comes out in loud, sharp pants, and you can’t help but sniffle as tears roll down your cheeks and drip from your chin.

Your entire life has just been flipped on its head, and you can’t handle it. You are a Colonel, you’re supposed to be impenetrable, but this, this is everything you ever had. Gone with a few words, a single mission.

“It’s okay, lass, fuck,” you can finally make out Soap saying, recognising one of the hands as his. It’s an, admittedly, comforting weight, one that you find yourself leaning back into. “Steamin’ Jesus.”

“Kyle, do you have water?” Price calls out to the front, and soon, a hand directs your head to enter the van once more, an opened water bottle being pressed to your lips. Price holds it, his hand stroking the back of your neck in support. “Have a drink, darlin’,” he encourages, tilting your head back as you swallow the ice-cold water. “There we go,”he murmurs, his touch unrelenting.

“You good, love?” Gaz calls from the front, brows furrowed where he’s half-watching in the rearview mirror.

All you can give him is a small, weak nod, but he seems to accept it. 

Your mind is spinning at a mile per minute, shuddering when Price pulls the bottle away and Soap continues to rub your back in calming circles. This is, you think, the one time you’ll allow yourself to be comforted by them. This was already crossing too many of the boundaries you’d put up in your head, a clear violation of the separation you’d planned out.

Ghost, true to his name, remains still where he sits in front of you, calculating as he stares you down.

“What are the chances,” he begins, focus remaining on you even if everyone else’s is suddenly on him, “That General’s personal pet is also Graves’ girl who had a change of heart?”

“Si–” Soap begins, before Ghost cuts him off.

“How do we know she’s not a fuckin’ spy,” he spits out, glaring at you with everything he has, “And we’ve been too fuckin’ stupid to figure it out!”

You’re not in control of your body, at this point. Your emotions are.

With one breath, you pull out the blade hooked to your hollister, grip it in a fist, and grab the scruff of Ghost’s uniform and pull him close. Grabbing his hand, you slide the knife into it, grabbing his wrist, pulling it forward so the knife is pressed against your neck.

“Kill me,” you breathe, chest heaving, eyes burning with rage, “Kill me if you think I’m a spy. Slice the knife through my fucking throat, Lieutenant, do it.”

His irises are blown black, the white of his eyes stark against the grease paint smeared over his visible skin. You can feel his heavy breaths through his mask, brushing against your snarled lips. You pull him even closer, your fist unrelenting against the fabric of his uniform.

There’s an uproar around you, Soap yelling something to you both, Price trying to tug you away by his grip on your upper arm, Gaz trying to both focus on not crashing and whatever the hell is happening behind him.

You’re strong, however. Trained and built for hand-to-hand battle, and you don’t move an inch. Not when you’re so determined, so stubborn.

“Kill. Me.” You hiss, the words quiet enough to only be heard by the man holding a knife to your throat. You lean in closer, and you can feel a small trickle of blood fall down your bared neck, but it’s a thrilling type of pain.

“You’re a crazy bastard,” he spits back, but he notably eases the knife away from your skin. You just lean into it further, more blood being let. “If you keep tryna call bluffs like this, you’ll be sent home in a casket.”

“What home, Lieutenant?” You ask, almost desperate for his answer, a demand. You narrow your gaze, refusing to break eye contact. “If you can find where the fuck I belong, I’ll be happy to die within its walls.”

The two of you standoff, your eyes doing all the speaking, before Ghost allows the blade to fall from his grip, hitting the floor of the van with a clunk. “You win, Sweetheart,” he taunts, the words being breathed against your own mouth, mere millimetres apart. “Congratulations.”

You finally allow yourself to be pulled back, Soap shooting you a shell-shocked look, his jaw clenching as he looks between you both. Price finally eases his grip around your arm, barking, “Don’t pull that shit! One wrong move and –”

“My whole life has been one wrong move,” you grit out, falling back into your seat with shallow breaths. You drag your hand down your face, before resting against the sticky heat of your blood, pooling at the dip of your neck. “What’s one more?”

There’s no response. You don’t hope for one, don’t expect one, but it still leaves you unsteady. Unsure. Even when everyone just sits in an odd sort of limbo for a few minutes, you struggle to come down from that high, that overwhelming need for control.

“Here.” 

When you look up, it’s to see Soap, a medkit in his lap. Price is sitting on the other side next to Ghost, talking quietly to him, stern expressions displayed on them both. They seem lost in conversation – a serious one, considering your current situation.

“What’re you doing?” You find yourself asking, watching as he rips open an alcoholic wipe and takes it out, your leg bouncing. He gives you a friendly smile, this side of hopeful.

“Patchin’ ye up, Sweetheart. Goes both ways,” he explains, and your eyes go glassy once more. “Can aye fix ye up?”

You don’t trust your words, so you simply nod, tilting your head back. You find yourself rocked by the rhythm of Gaz’s driving, finding solace in the comfort of semi-safety. Although not as safe as you would’ve been at Graves’ base, there was a sense of… protectiveness that came with being with the 141.

Wincing, you grit your teeth as Soap cleans up the blood from your throat, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his bumbling, charismatic character. He’s precise, careful to not hurt you too much, delicate movements made by harsh hands.

“You sure do like playin’ with fire, lass,” he murmurs, swiping the last bits of drying blood from the hollow of your throat, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips.  “Can respect that.”

“I’m sorry for… that,” you sigh, watching as he deposits the used wipe into a hazard bag. Good practice, you think, prioritising avoiding any bloodborne diseases. You’re silently impressed. “Didn’t mean to lose my shit. Just. A lot.”

“I know,” he returns, earnest, opening a bottle of sanitary cream and swiping some onto his finger, bringing it to soothe over your small wound.

“I don’t know who to trust.”

Those words aren’t exactly good ones to say, not to a borderline enemy with his hands on your neck. But it feels like an otherworldly force makes you say them, makes you expose yourself even further to this man. Maybe a taunt, maybe a small punishment for saving his life.

He pauses, but quickly covers up his hesitation with returned fervour. “I don’t envy ya, hen. It’s an absolute shitshow. But…” he grabs some medical tape, cutting it to length to put over your wound. Apparently it’s worse than you’d thought. “Ye heard what happened. Shepherd, Graves, they’re not worthy of ya.”

That gives you pause. Worthy. What made someone worthy? What kind of clarifications?

Did he think he was worthy? Ghost? Price? Gaz?

“You think I’m better than the General?” You raise a brow, attempting to goad him, spark that flame of banter that always seemed to haunt the Scot.

“I know ye are. Seen it with my own eyes.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“We’re nearly back at the safehouse,” Gaz calls from the front, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to a silent rhythm. Price grunts out a reply, and Ghost remains silent, watching. Always watching.

Finishing up his quick first aid job, Soap tilts your head back down with a grip on your chin, his thumb stroking along your bottom lip. “There we go, Sweetheart. Good as new,” he whispers, the corner of his lips tilting into a kind grin.

“How’s the arm?” You find yourself asking, looking to the bandaged ligament. “Feeling alright?”

“Definitely better than if aye’d let it get infected,” he hums, looking down to his arm. “Once this blows over, nurses on base will sort it out.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but you realise that his thigh is pressed against yours, and your leg has stopped bouncing. No more tap tap tap. Just… the feel of fabric against your own, heated by the flesh underneath. The comforting touch of another human, not sexual, not for any reason but to simply… exist.

Ten minutes pass of comfortable silence between you both, before the vehicle comes to a stop, Gaz turning off the engine with a turn of his keys, unbuckling his seat belt and hopping out of the car.

“Out we get,” Price says to you all, gentler than he’d been before. The doors burst open, Gaz flinging the keys back to his Captain, urging the four of you to hop out and head in.

You’re the last to get out, Gaz extending a calloused hand for you to take, ever the gentleman. Accepting it, you jump down, looking to the awaiting men. The Los Vaqueros are rushing inside, talking amongst themselves, relief thick in their words, hands being slapped against each other’s backs.

Price is looking at you as he says, “I think we have a call to make.”

As it turns out, the call is to the last person on Earth you want to talk to right now. In the middle of the same table you’d stood beside Rudy at, mere hours ago, is a computer.

One with General Shepherd’s face on it.

Price had given you the mercy in deciding whether you’d show yourself or not. You still hadn’t made the choice, instead standing off to the side, Gaz and Soap at either side of you. Alejandro stands at the right of the table, and Ghost has his arms folded over his chest at the left.

“You hid this,” Price grips the table, livid, “Why.”

Not a question, not really, more of a command than anything. An order from a Captain.

Shepherd’s response has your blood running cold, reality finally cementing inside of yourself. You claw at your palms when he responds, drily, “We all keep secrets, Captain.”

And, oh, what a slap in the face that is.

“Why the hell wasn’t I informed?” Price snaps, his shoulders rising and falling with each barely restrained breath. He seems to fill out his uniform more than he had before, in the dim light of the room.

The boarded up window allows for a small sliver of sunset to cast against all of you, a small joy in the darkness of the safehouse. And the situation at hand.

“Consider yourself well informed now, John,” Shepherd’s tone lowers, more grating, forceful.

“Oh, that's really fuckin' helpful, General. Thank you. But you're a day late and a missile short. There's three of them – we only found two.”

“Then point yourself in that direction, and fix it,” Shepherd booms, and you can’t help the instinctual flinch of your body. You’d grown up being frightened of his raised voice, the threat that came along with it. Even in the safety of this house, you can’t help your response.

Price scoffs a laugh with no humour, his mouth falling into a grim, dangerous line. “And who fixes you, eh?”

You can hear, more than see, Shepherd’s returning snarl. “I don’t need fixing. I’m a patriot protecting my country.”

Gaz and Soap share a look above your head, but you don’t care, not now. Not when Price stands up, slamming his hand against the table, not when Alejandro curses under his breath.

Not when all you can think about is the empty promises Shepherd made.

“You’re protecting your own ass,” Price cusses, turning back to glare at the man on the screen.

“I do what needs to be done, and no one holds me down with a roll of red tape. I know what's best for the cause.”

Price chuckles, eyes a fire of fury, leaning down once more to the laptop. “You’ve lost your mind, General.”

“And you've forgotten what you're fighting for, John. To do good, you gotta do some bad. When we shit, we bury it, that's how it works,” Shepherd replies, hard and strong in his belief.

You’re at the verge of losing it.

“Yeah,” Price begins, before pointing his finger to the camera, “But we don’t bury each other with it, do we?”

“You need to turn off that side o' your head and face down the real enemy,” Shepherd warns, and it’s the final straw.

“Isn’t that what you told me, Herschel? That the organisation was the real enemy?” You quip, and for a minute, you wonder if he’s ended the call.

That is, until, a choked off voice filters in, “Kid?”

Rushing forward, you turn the laptop to face you, and your entire system seems to revolt as you see the man you once cared for like a father. 

“Tell me that you didn’t betray them,” you hiss, leaning in closer, your entire face filling the screen. “Tell me that you didn’t ruin lives – tell me you didn’t make a deal with my Commander behind my back. Tell me, Herschel.”

“You wouldn’t understand –” he begins, but that’s all you needed to know.

Stepping away, you give him a final, cold smile. “Was it worth it?”

“What –” he starts once more, before you grab the handle of your gun, pulling it up to rest as a comforting weight in your hand.

“Was it worth ruining my life? Was it worth ruining this mission?”

“You’re just a kid.”

“I am a Colonel!” You shout, emotions bubbling over as you slam the gun onto the table, eyes blazing. “And when I find you, you’re going to wish you never fucked me over. What was your favourite method? Flaying? Dismemberment?”

“You’ve always been too soft and easy to manipulate,” Shepherd snaps back, voice booming through the speakers.

Your voice is as dangerous as you’ve ever heard it.

“Immolation? That was your favourite, wasn’t it?”

His eyes widen on the screen, seeming to understand, to seemingly take you seriously. Too late. Too fucking late.

“Let’s see if it’s still your favourite when it’s your turn to be the victim,” you slowly say, annunciating every word with clear speech. “Thank you for your teachings, General.”

With that, you slam the laptop screen shut, and prepare to face the fire.

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. im so hyped for all of the future plot points. and romance. ohmygod. yes, ghost does eventually come around. yes, he's the longest slow burn. yes, he's the most intense enemies to lovers. wbk. i also got covid so i have a lot of time to rot in bed and suffer while writing!! ALSOOO there is so much fire symbolism... ;)

your comments mean soso much to me, every time iread one i squeal and feel all excited!! thank u for ur support commenters, i DO read all of them. more than once. &lt;3

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

change pt.2

childhood bestfriend!soap x reader

You went from seeing Johnny every weekend since kindergarten to only seeing him during the week days. And when you did see him, it was like he was stuck in his own world.

Johnny talked a lot, that was something you knew and were okay with that since that's what you grew up with. But recently his talks were nothing like they used to be.

Ever since the family get together it was everything about his cousin, the SAS, the military and Herefordshire.

He even started talking about joining, which made you incredibly nervous.

You wanted to be interested in it, you tried once but just couldn't quite grasp it, and frankly part of you didn't want to. Not when it was the reason why he had suddenly stopped hanging out with you to the point your own mother took notice.

"John's not coming over?" She had sounded almost as sad as you felt. "Is everything okay between the two of you?"

You didn't know how to answer so you didn't.

Two months. That's how long it took before you had finally had enough. He had blown you off for two months going to see his cousin and you couldn't excuse his behavior anymore.

It was petty, childish, but you were so hurt and angry you didn't care.

You didn't speak to him for the entire day. You went to school without him, ignored his texts and calls, avoided him at every turn and ate lunch by yourself. You stewed in your own anger, letting it boil up until you were sure there was steam coming out your ears.

You narrowly avoided him when school let out, ignoring his loud calls from across the hall, as you rushed out.

You didn't get very far before he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"Get off." You tried to shove him away but he was too strong.

"What's going on?" He demanded, a mix of emotions on his face. Confusion, irritation, fear. "You've been ignoring me all day."

"I said get off!"

You shoved him back as hard as you could and he stepped back, raising his arms with disbelief.

"The fucks gotten into you?" He asked and dared to be angry, as if he had a right to be angry with you.

"What's gotten into me? I'm not the one who's been blowing off their best friend two months straight. I'm not the one who has only talked about themselves and has seemed to forgotten who their best friend is just because of some random ass cousin who you barely even know!"

"I haven't been blowing you off-"

"Bullshit! You fucking forgot to take me home, forgot I was even there, and then acted like that wasn't a problem before you started talking about yourself."

You were shaking you were so angry and that made Johnny stop. Suddenly he stared at you with shame, guilt washing over him as he opened his mouth to say something but you didn't let him.

"You're a bad fucking friend, John!" You spat with tears in your eyes. "Don't talk to me."

"Wait-"

"Fuck off!"

Johnny didn't follow you. He didn't call you or text hours after either, even when his mind and soul were begging him to.

He fucked up. He knew he did. He hadn't realized how bad of a friend he had been, having been too caught up in the ideas his cousin gave him. Too busy thinking about the future, a future that seemed right for him, that he forgot about the most important part of his life. You.

He hadn't thought about how he really had blown you off until you said it. How he had barely seen you these past two months and how weird it was for him to not even notice.

That wasn't him. Even if he wanted to join the military, he knew he couldn't live his life without you in it, not fully or happily anyway, and he couldn't help but call himself stupid for treating you so horribly.

Panic, guilt and shame swirled inside him.

Johnny couldn't lose you. He couldn't but he wasn't sure if you'd forgive him easily, or at all.

It had been hours after the encounter when he showed up to your house. He didn't use the spare key and instead knocked. He was greeted by your disappointed mother who gave him a little bit of an earful (after he had gotten scolded ten times worse by his own mother) before she let him in.

You were in your room watching a movie on your laptop, though you weren't paying much attention to it.

You wished you could say if felt good to yell at him, but it only made you feel more hurt. All you wanted was your friend back, as mad as you were, you just wanted your Johnny.

There was a knock on your door and you paused the movie.

"Yeah?" You expected your mother but Johnny opened the door.

Your face fell and you fought the urge to turn your back to him. Instead you gave him a glare that he shrunk under as you sat up in your bed before you gave him an expectant look.

"I'm sorry." His voice was uncharacteristically small but incredibly genuine. "I never should've treated you that way."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I should've realized it without you saying it. I'm sorry for being selfish and forgetting you." You noticed the way he blinked away the tears in his eyes.

"John-"

"You don't have to forgive me-"

"Johnny."

He shut his mouth and stared at you expectantly, his face tinged red with shame and his eyes laced with guilt.

After so many years, you couldn't imagine not forgiving him. Yes you were angry, yes you were hurt, but more than anything you just wanted to be friends again.

You opened your arms, inviting him in a hug that he immediately rushed forward into. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face his shoulder as he held onto you like you would disappear.

He sat on your bed and pulled you into his lap, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment you both sat there in each others arms without another word. It was comforting for you both, it was where you both belonged at the end of the day. This is where you wanted to be; this is where he wanted to be.

You pulled back slightly and touched your forehead with his, looking deep into his eyes.

"I forgive you."

You could count how many times you've seen Johnny cry on one hand. This was one more time, but you didn't mind as you shed a few more tears of your own.

Before long the two of you were snuggled together in your bed watching movies on your laptop. You laid your head on his chest while his fingers traced patterns in your arm.

It was the first night you both had fallen asleep in the same bed after months of being apart.

masterlist

a/n: just a little taste of angst before more to come >:)

@phmygod @humanities-cutest @cowyolks @poohkie90 @glitterypirateduck

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

There For Me (Harley Quinn X Batsis!Reader)

Characters: Harley Quinn X Batsis!Reader, Batfam X Batsis!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: Unhealthy family relationships (Parentification) Mild mention of a past abusive relationship (Harley & Joker) Mention of stalking, mention of death

Request: A bruce wayne and daughter, she is an adult. Mainly responsible for her siblings. She is sick of being the responible one. She is really good friends with harley and ivy and they take her in. She is secrectly dating harley. Batman comes too take her back but she tells him she is very happy and harley protects her girlfriend. Bruce accepts and lets them be.

Notes: Kind of strayed from the request near the end, I kind of got carried away with this lol

Ever since you were a child, you were well aware that your relationship and role within your family was different to a lot of other families. It wasn’t the norm by any sense, even for Gotham. Your mom was never in the picture, leaving you in the hospital you were born in with a note about where to find your dad, and after a test to confirm it, you were sent to live with your dad, who at the time was the opposite of responsible, and was a mess still, if the whole getting a woman pregnant who then left you without a second thought wasn’t something to go by. It was no surprise that Alfred ended up being your actual primary caregiver for your early years. That, and the whole secret life as Batman he actually had the foresight to know it was best you didn’t know about. 

You found out when you were 10, coming down in the middle of the night for something to drink after a nightmare, finding your dad badly beaten and barely conscious in the kitchen, also looking for something to drink. You stared at each other for a moment in horror, but after a moment, you swallowed, grabbing a cup, getting some cold water, and went back to bed without a word. Bruce told Alfred what happened, and Alfred explained everything after school the next day. That day changed a lot for you. You realised partly why your dad was almost always absent, that Alfred was helping him keep your city safe, and that anytime you needed help with something was basically time taken away from Alfred that he could be spending making sure your dad wasn’t bleeding out somewhere or in need of help. As soon as you got home that day, you immediately began the process of becoming as independent as possible. 

By the time your dad brought Dick home, you were entirely independent, but also very emotionally cut off from your dad and Alfred. You didn’t interact with Dick for a few days until he was up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare, and you came down as well, fixing a snack to share and then going back up to his room to keep him occupied till he was ready to go back to bed. It was after that point that Dick started to open up a bit more, especially with you. After Dick had grown into an adult and you two spent a night off drinking and catching up, he admitted to you that when he first joined the family, he wasn’t sure on what your role was in it, thinking maybe you were a recent adoptee as well and just weren’t adjusting well, and it took over a month for him to realise you were Bruce’s biological kid. 

When Jason arrived, you already had a rough idea of what to do as your role as a big sister to dysfunctional traumatised little brothers, though Jason’s anger issues did make it a bit more difficult to bond with him. However, you quickly found that if you challenged his own anger with your silent resentment and frustration with your dad for not actually doing what a dad is supposed to, you two would actually bond over your frustrations, cause a bit of havoc together to blow of some steam. 

Jason exposed you to two things. One, he showed you that you had every right to be more angry with Bruce about the fact that you had to raise yourself and now the kids he was bringing into the manor than you are. Two, it was because of you two causing a bit of mischief that you met Harley Quinn.

You had been doing some art outside to release some of your emotions in a healthy way, or as Bruce would call it, Vandalism in the form of graffiti, when you heard police sirens, and you both scattered to get away from the scene, getting separated and you ended up on the bad side of town, and was just trying to find a safe route home without having to call anyone, especially Bruce or Alfred, for help, and hoping that Jason was okay. Unfortunately, you ended up crossing paths with a group of business students, who decided to catcall, harass, and after you ignored them completely, decided to start following you. Fortunately, it was then that you took a sharp turn to try and lose them and bumped right into Harley, who was with her own posse of goons. You two stared at each other for no longer than a second, and in that second, you two had entire conversation purely through your eyes. Then she heard the men behind you, far enough away to not see who you had bumped into to realise they should run, but close enough for Harley to hear them laugh and tell the men surrounding her to grab you for them. He face contorted to anger for a moment.

“They bothering you?” She asked shortly, and you nodded, honestly scared to mutter a word. She took your arm, pulling you behind her. “Boys, time to teach these men some manners!” She ordered, and in a matter of seconds, Harley’s goons were chasing the men down the street and out of sight. You couldn’t help the small laugh that left your mouth at the sight. “You alright? Did they grab ya?” 

“No- no, they were just being creeps. Thanks.” You told her as she turned back to you, the streetlamp now lighting up your face better, and she was able to see your face clearer, and also now actually identify you, and you saw her eyes widen and realised she knew who you were. 

“Aren’t you Wayne’s daughter? What you doing out here? I’m sure daddy wouldn’t approve of you being out here.” She stated, hands on her hips, almost motherly, which was funny considering that you weren’t even a teenager anymore, now a young woman in your early twenties, only about 5-6 years younger than Harley. 

“I was supposed to be supervising my little brother while he released some stress in some street art.” You told her. She arched an eyebrow. 

“You and the younger Wayne were doing vandalism?” She clarified, and she saw the twinge of a smirk on your face before you tucked it back, and she grinned. “I like you, little trouble maker! Where’s your brother now?” 

“I don’t know, honestly. We heard sirens nearby and scattered. He’s a lot more street smart than me though- obviously.” You said, gesturing down the street to the incident Harley just prevented. 

“Why not call your dad?” She asked, and you couldn’t help the loud and quick laugh that left you, which told her a lot. “You two… not close?” 

“No… never were, honestly… I uh, I’ve always looked after myself, and these days I’m looking after my adoptive siblings. Bruce isn’t good with the whole kids having emotions things, so I’m trying to help Jason get his anger out in ways that don’t involve needing first aid kits constantly stocked up.” You explained to her, hands in your pockets, rocking back and forth, finding it hard to stand still. You had no clue why you were admitting all this to Harley, especially since she was literally an enemy of your dad, but the way she had immediately defended you, and was taking the time to listen to you made you feel safe with her. 

“That sucks, toots… you must be pretty lonely… say, if you ever find yourself back out here or just want a call or something and rant, call this number, okay? I might not answer right away, this is kind of a private cell, so don’t tell anyone, but I’ll get back to you, okay?” She said, plucking a gel pen from a pocket of her loud chequered jacket, grabbing your arm to pull your hand out your pocket and noting down a number on your palm. When she was done, she tucked it back into her pocket. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the edge of the nicer part of town, okay?” She said, wrapping her arm in yours and pulling you along with her. She did as she said, walking you to a safer part of town, reminding you to call her if needed (also if you couldn’t find Jason so she could look for him for you) and you parted ways.

She was the one you ended up calling when Jason was killed.

You didn’t talk to anyone for over a month after his death, other than the odd text to Dick to respond to him or to just make sure he was alright, but one night when things were really bad for you- your dad basically nearly killing himself every night, Alfred locked up in the cave trying to prevent him from actually dying, Dick away doing his own thing after arguing with Bruce, you were entirely alone in your mourning, completely lost in what you’re supposed to do next. You had no little brother to keep your mind busy with worrying and caring for, no one to make you feel needed. No one to make you feel wanted. You were completely alone.

You had called her as a last ditch effort, seeing no harm in at least trying, remembering she was once a psychiatrist. And sure, she was once affiliated with the Joker, but she had distanced herself from him, clearly a victim herself, and had been keeping a low profile ever since. You weren’t even sure she would pick up, probably changing her number, but she did pick up. “Hello?” 

“Harley?” You asked in a whisper. “This is… um, it’s Y/N. Wayne… you um, helped me out a while ago with some creeps, gave me this number…” You recollected to her. 

“I remember… heard about your brother… Not gonna say sorry, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard it a billion times and I’m probably a person you don’t wanna hear it from… you doing okay?” 

“Not really…” You admitted, sniffling. “I’m not doing good… I know you said to call if I needed help with something… I just… I’m alone and I don’t want to be. Is there somewhere we can just meet even if it’s just for an hour?” You asked. 

“Yeah of course!” You weren’t honestly expecting her immediate agreement. “We can have a girl’s night, me, you, and Ivy- I’ve been staying with her for a while now, I’m sure she won’t mind! Where do you want to meet?” 

You met her a few blocks away, and she walked with you to a small one bedroom apartment where Ivy was waiting already, lounged on the cramped couch. She didn’t ask questions as Harley introduced you as Bruce Wayne’s daughter, who was in need of some TLC after everything that happened with Jason, in fact the only questions she asked was “Do you want to get wasted or hold onto the pillow of emotions and tell us all about it?” 

“The pillow of emotions?” You asked, and she held up the pillow right next to her- a blanket, that even in the dim lighting you could tell was as soft as a childhood teddy, the perfect size and shape to squeeze tightly as you cried your eyes out. You pointed to it, and she handed it over, and it wasn’t long till you were on the couch next to Ivy, Harley sat on the floor, both women listening and nodding along as you hugged the pillow, sobbing and ranting about everything. From you basically being raised by Alfred, to you being more like a mother than a sister to Dick and Jason despite not even being that much older than Dick, and how because of that, you felt like a failure when Jason died, like you failed at being his protector, and how now you were all alone- Dick doing his own thing, your dad acting like Jason never even existed, and Alfred being too busy making sure your dad was actually caring for himself to notice you might even need help. 

Honestly, a part of you expected these women, who themselves had been through hell and way worse than you, to roll their eyes, point out how you had daddy’s money to buy a therapist and figure it out yourself, but they didn’t. In fact in the end, when you finally got it all off your chest, both wrapped you in their arms, promising you that they were there, that they cared, and that this apartment always had space for you if you ever wanted to get away. You found yourself there at least once a week. When Bruce brought Tim home, you fluctuated between spending almost every day there or being at home keeping an eye and trying to care for the new brother, until Tim expressed his independence and you went back to spending more time with the girls. 

5 years after Jason’s death, a lot of things changed. 

One, your friendship with Harley became more than a friendship, and you three mutually agreed that it was time for an upgrade in apartment, and you officially moved out, creating much more distance between yourself and your dad, though with Tim around and Bruce now getting more of a grip on his self-destructive behaviours, you were able to call and come visit Alfred, Tim and Dick who had moved back in on occasion, though you now mostly interacted with Dick and Tim (who had warmed up to you a lot more) outside of the manor. 

Two, Jason came back. It was shocking for everyone involved, especially since he was full to the brim of rage and fury, especially against Bruce. He worked with Scarecrow to poison the entire city, and the second you heard it was him through Dick, you tried to leave the safety of the apartment that you had promised your girlfriend you wouldn’t leave to try and find him, only for Ivy to find you quickly, seeing you in a panic and trying to run into the city without anyway to protect yourself, and in fear that you’d been affected by the fear toxin, she sedated you herself until it was all over and hopefully the toxin had left your body. When she woke you up with Harley there, your immediate question was if Jason was okay. Harley thought you were having issues with your memory due to the sedation and the toxin, but after talking with you for longer, explaining the call you had gotten from Dick, and also letting slip that your family was also the bat family, and that Jason was the Robin that had been killed, the girls gave you the rundown of what they knew. Bruce was alive. Dick and Tim were alive, and the Arkham Knight, who was apparently Jason, had disappeared, not confirmed alive or dead. Harley escorted you back to the manor to get answers on what happened, and to try and get in contact with Jason. You got confirmation that he was alive, but was still pissed off at Bruce and was not contacting the family for the time being. 

That didn’t sit right with you. So you went out into the city to one of the places you two would hang around, mess around, graffiti, where you’d complain about Bruce together, and had the best time of your lives. And you waited. And waited. You ignored all your phone calls and texts, simply dropping a text to Harley promising you’d be home soon and you were alright before turning your phone off, and waited more. When the air started to become too nippy for you as you continued to pace in the small snicket, head low, arms crossed and noticing you could see your breath now, you finally thought about leaving. Giving up for now, trying another day or another technique. It was then you felt something heavy drop on your shoulders, and someone pat you on the back. You looked up, startled at the tall man beside you, but even more so at his features that you could recognize instantly. “Jason?” You asked, getting a faint smile from him. That was all you needed, pulling the man into a tight hug, his heavy leather jacket nearly falling off your shoulders. 

You caught up with Jason. You told him how you’d moved out of the manor, how no one in the family actually knew where you lived, and you let the cat out the bag about your roommates being Ivy and Harley, who was actually your girlfriend, and how you met Harley that night where you two got separated in the city, and how she was the one you came to when he died. In classic Jason style, he was far more angry over the fact that Bruce totally left you alone to mourn him and you had to turn to another victim of Joker’s for comfort than you living with two criminals and dating one. In fact, he warmed up pretty quickly to it, knowing they at least can protect you ‘unlike Bruce’. He walked you home, promising to be in touch. You went inside, seeing Harley beside herself with worry, and after her throwing herself at you to hold you close and make sure you were alright, you told her everything, and after Jason and you got a form of communication, Harley and Ivy gave Jason the thumbs up to be allowed into the girl cave, the only real rule being to not tell Bruce or the others about the living arrangement in any way, which was easy enough. 

For a while, things were tense but working in the Wayne family. Jason was still limited to no contact with Bruce, only talking to Dick on occasion when they ran into each other, but almost all contact between them was through you, which resulted in you having more contact with Bruce, though things were still incredibly tense between you two, so often Dick and Tim became a filter for you both, which you despised. Still, the boys would always called you when they needed you, and so it was them who called you to let you know that Bruce had another child- this one biologically his. Your half brother. Damian. 

You let yourself into the manor, quickly rushing down into the cave to hear everyone bickering, Dick and your now youngest brother in the midst of a fight, though when Bruce spotted you and called your name, they stopped and looked at you. Damian stepped towards you, and Dick immediately held one of his Escrima sticks in front of him to stop him, and Tim stepped forward to be in front of you slightly, telling you that those two didn’t trust him to not hurt you. You patted Tim on the shoulder to tell him it was alright before stepping around him, and then you looked at Dick. “Put it away.” You told him. He did as told, though hesitantly. Damian remained still, though he glared at you. You showed him the palms of your hands casually. “No weapons on me, other than a taser, but that’s for creeps in the street.” You told him. 

“Who are you?” He demanded. “Another stray my father picked up off the streets?” Ah. Volatile, lashing out, not caring about hurting feelings. Reminded you of a certain someone…

“In a way, I guess. I’m your sister. Your half sister. Biologically related.” You explained, nodding your head in your father’s direction, who was stood off to the side. His eyes widened, before his eyebrows knitted together and his frown deepended. 

“I wasn’t aware father had an older child.” 

“Yeah, he had me pretty young, and I’ve mostly been out of the spotlight- I like keeping a low profile.” You explained to him, stepping forward casually. “I always joked that father dearest never wanted a girl and always wanted to only have boys- why he had Dick, Tim and Jason, so hopefully now you’re here, I don’t have to worry about raising anymore boys on his behalf.” You joked, offering a hand to him. You felt Dick and Tim tense at your action and proximity. Damian stared at your hand, then back at you, before taking your hand and you shaked it with a smile. “Welcome to the family, Damian. I’m Y/N, the eldest Wayne sibling, and your big sister. If you need anything, anything at all, you call for me, okay? I’ll be there.” 

You kept that promise to him, like you had the boys. He didn’t call you or contact you for a good few months. He only really interacted with you when either Bruce, Alfred or one of the other boys called for you and you went to the manor to negotiate, or to meet one of them on patrol to talk, and he was tagging along with them because Bruce didn’t trust him alone, but he witnessed his ‘brothers’ call you the second they had a problem, especially at home with Bruce, and every time you picked up, arranged to meet them, and came over. At first he hated how you got into fights with Bruce, especially when advocating for Jason, but when he realised that you were doing it on the boys behalf, especially when you got into a fight with Bruce for him regarding his grades and getting calls from teachers, he finally asked Dick for your phone number, and he asked to speak with you while he was on patrol. You agreed, arranging to meet him nearby. 

“You okay Damian?” You asked as soon as you saw him in the snicket. He nodded, not saying anything at first. “You haven’t ever called me before, so something big must have happened.” 

“Why do you fight for me and the others on our behalf to father?” He asked bluntly. You stared surprised for a moment, before walking closer to him. 

“I don’t have a good relationship with…father. Never have, and I’ve accepted I’ll probably never will. A long time ago, I just kept my mouth shut, let him ignore my existence despite living in the same building, and I was mostly alone. The Dick came along, and he was far more present for him than he ever was for me, but still, he wasn’t… there, there. He was still lacking, mostly emotionally, and I found myself just… filling the gap. Making up where he missed the mark. I looked after Dick when he was going through mourning of his parents, I was the one who helped Jason get some of his anger out, I was the only one who accepted Tim into the family from the get-go… I’m the one the boys call when they need help. Not Bruce… My girlfriend- don’t tell dad about her- is a psychiatrist, and she calls it parentification. It’s when a child, often the oldest, takes on a role similar to that of a parent, caring for younger siblings, and at times, the parents themselves. It complicates relationships between the younger ones and the eldest as well- like you boys turning to me rather than Bruce when you have issues. It usually damages the relationships in the family later on.” You explained to him. 

“Do you resent father for doing that?” He asked. You knew you couldn’t lie to Damian- he wasn’t naive by any sense, and you guessed he’d tell you were lying. 

“Honestly? Yes. Absolutely. I didn’t have a childhood, and I had to grow up quickly to care for the boys he chose to have.”

“Do you resent Dick, Jason and Tim? Do you resent me? You said yourself you think he only wanted boys, and while I’m biologically his like you, he’s present for me like he was Dick.” He inquired. You stepped even closer till you were both straining your necks to meet eye contact. You reached out, holding his face with your hands, warming his cheeks with your calms. 

“Never… Those few years before Dick came home… were some of the worst years of my life. I was… so alone. When you boys showed up, I wasn’t alone anymore. I had purpose, something to keep me busy. Whenever I get a text from Jason complaining about Bruce, or Dick asking me to stop by, or simply Tim asking to get him coffee… I don’t mind, because they need me, and they trust me, and they love me, and I love them. They’re my brothers. Your my youngest brother, and I love you unconditionally, okay?” You promised him, and he nodded, before stepping back, turning on his heel, and going to leave the alley, before he paused, turning and looking over his shoulder at you. 

“I won’t tell father about your girlfriend… Does anyone else know?” 

“Only Jason. I don’t trust the others to not freak out about her, especially Bruce.” You told him. He nodded, and carried on his way. He started to text you from time to time like Jason did. Short and blunt. He never told you straight out he loved you- Dick said it all the time when saying goodbye, Jason said it on occasion, usually concealing it with sentences, Tim said it usually in the middle of the compliment, but never Damian. Instead he would simply text you ‘hope you’re safe’ at the end of the beginning of a conversation. When you realised that was him saying he loved you, you realised he said it the most out of the boys. 

More time passed, things were going good in your family if you ignored Bruce, and things were going extremely well with you and Harley. You were both now looking for a new place to live away from Ivy- her idea, she was planning to move in with Selina. However, the move was postponed when signs of Joker being near your current apartment started to show up, and Harley became anxious, and with very good reason. You hurriedly moved Harley and Ivy into Selina’s apartment and you temporarily moved back into the manor. Just in time it seemed- your old apartment complex was the victim of arson, the substances used to light the fire making it burn green. It was obvious who set it. 

Jason heard first, rushing to the manor, ignoring Bruce’s calls to come and find you, holding you tightly, relieved that you were safe, before he explained what had happened, and that it was an attack by Joker. He said that, in front of not only Bruce, but all your other brothers. They all, including Bruce, freaked out.

“Joker targetted you?!” Dick freaked out.

“No he-” 

“You’re staying at a safehouse for now, alright? We’ll fit it up and make it homely.” Tim decided.

“No, that’s not needed-”

“Y/N, you’re in danger, you can’t leave our sight.” Bruce ordered. 

“He wasn’t targeting me!” You snapped, making them all stop. “He wasn’t targeting me. He was targeting my roommate… my girlfriend.” 

“Your girlfriend?” Bruce asked. 

“Why?” Damian asked. You glanced at Jason anxiously, the only person who knew all the details. He instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, ready to put himself between you and everyone else if they tried anything, and get you out of there in a timely fashion if necessary. 

“My girlfriend is Harley. Quinn. We’ve been dating for a few years.” You admitted. Everyone stood stiff for a moment. 

“What?!” Bruce finally snapped, moving forward. Jason immediately held his arm out, pulling you behind him. 

“You stay the fuck away from my sister, Bruce.” He glared. 

“You knew?” Tim asked at Jason. 

“I did too.” Damian spoke up, trying to show solidarity with you and Jason, jumping to be beside you as well. “I didn’t know it was Harley, but from what she’s told me, she treats her well and loves Y/N.” Damian defended. 

“I’ve met her. Harley loves Y/N. She was there for Y/N when I died, unlike you. She looks after Y/N.” Jason defended. Bruce stared at you. 

“Where’s Harley?” 

“I’m not telling you. Her life's in danger, she’s in hiding… we’re going to meet up soon and… we’re leaving Gotham. Temporarily. Just until Joker forgets she exists, then we’re getting a new apartment, maybe somewhere closer to Jason.” You explained. 

“You can’t leave Gotham with her!” Bruce snapped. 

“Why not?” Tim asked. Bruce’s head snapped around to him. “If Joker gets an inkling that Harley has a girlfriend, especially if it’s Y/N Wayne, he’ll go after her. It’s better safe than sorry.” 

“Anything we can do from here? We can get you two a safehouse in another city till things calm down.” Dick offered. You smiled at him and nodded, and he smiled sadly. “We should cause a scene to keep him occupied so he doesn’t have time to realise Harley’s gone off the grid. One of us should also escort you both just in case. 

“I’ll do that.” Jason decided. “Atleast you know if worst comes to worse and Joker tries to stop you leaving, I’ll fucking kill him.” 

“Do none of you care about what I think?” Bruce asked. 

“No. We don’t. This has nothing to do with you. This is to do about the safety of Y/N and her girlfriend from her girlfriend’s abusive ex. This is about what is best for them, and what we can do to make things easier for them. You’ve never cared about her. You’ve never put her first and done what’s best for her. Leave us to deal with this, and stay out of it.” Jason snapped at him. Bruce looked around, seeing to see if anyone- even you- would tell Jason off. No one did. Without another word, Jason pushed you to go with Damian and Tim to go pack some things while he went to get a car from the garage for you and Harley and your things, and Dick got his phone out to start making calls for somewhere safe for you to stay. Bruce stared at Dick, the only one left in the room. He saw that Bruce was waiting for him to talk to him, say anything to him. 

“Y/N has always been there for us, no matter what. This is the only time she’s ever said she’s needed our help. We’re taking it.” He told him simply, before putting his phone to his ear and leaving the room, leaving Bruce alone, unsure on what to do or what to say. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

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