#don’t be a dickhead or I’ll kill you

[angelsarecomputers]

in addition: what little we DO have of jean’s character is very relatable to a lot of people. he suffers from depression and mental health issues. he was in an abusive situation with an addict that he couldn’t really escape from without risking his career and, very possibly, said person’s life. he’s an incredibly cynical man living in a crumbling society. these are all things that the DE fandom as a whole can relate too quite a bit, and i am no exception to this. i think jean is a character that a lot of people project onto quite a bit, which is one of the reasons why he’s such a popular side character. not only is there a lot of commonly-accepted fanon surrounding him, but there’s also a lot of room to vent about your own headcanons and experiences onto a relatively blank slate while still having it fit well with his established characterisation

(if I were to be more cynical, id also say it’s because he’s a somewhat conventionally-attractive edgy white man with a french accent and thus, very good sexyman/blorbo material)

this is all well and good for the most part- it’s pretty standard fandom M.O and the headcanons and fanon surrounding him are something i personally enjoy quite a bit- but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to criticise the fact that a lot of people flat-out ignore the bad aspects of his character. there has been an exhausting amount of discussion about this and at this point I’m probably just adding to the pile but i think it speaks to a wider issue within the fandom about how the majority of individuals spend most of their time ignoring the games themes of systemic injustice and oppression perpetuated by the RCM. this could be a whole post in itself that i, as a white person in a position of privilege, probably am not qualified to make, but you’d have to be blind not to notice that the RCM are most definitely the baddies. even some people that engage with the more communist and radical aspects of the game tend to ignore this, though why i think this happens is a conversation i won’t get into here

as for how it relates to jean’s character, it means that not only is he a literal cop working as a bodyguard for “five fat men in the occident” (thanks Elizabeth) aka the moralintern aka a group of brutal oppressors hiding beneath a thin veneer of humanitarianism, he is also likely complicit in covering up police brutality. i very much doubt that he had nothing to do with ‘the unsolvable case’ incident and making sure that harry didn’t get into trouble for disabling a man for life for the crime of being drunk and disorderly (hypocrite) but by virtue of being a cop he is participating in a violent system of repression. this shouldn’t be something that has to be spelled out, in my opinion, but i think it’s worth emphasising that, by virtue of being a police officer, jean viquemare is an inherently bad person. that doesn’t mean he can’t be complex, that doesn’t mean he can’t do good things or have good aspects, but his continued participation in a toxic police culture makes him, overall, a bad person.

now, that doesn’t mean he’s not a good CHARACTER from a story standpoint. but that’s not what this is about really

and then there’s the issue of him being incredibly ableist towards harry, which has been dissected to hell and back by many more qualified people than i. I’ve seen discussions about how tue way he acts reflects commonly-held attitudes towards disabled people in 90s Eastern Europe, which is an interesting thing to keep in mind. regardless, I’m not here go discuss whether or not this behaviour is acceptable- it’s not- but the way the fandom reacts to it- mainly by either ignoring it or framing harry, whether intentionally or not, as ‘deserving it’

this attitude mainly stems from interpretations of what we know of Harry and jean’s relationship before martinaise. we know that harry was an abusive alcoholic and drug user, and that their relationship was probably very unhealthy and toxic. people have a wide variety of headcanons on what their relationship was like, ranging from those who believe that they were just good work friends for a while to those who headcanon them as having had romantic and/or sexual relations. regardless, most people agree that their relationship was abusive, but there’s a worrying subset of people who seem to think that harry could have been the only instigator of this abuse. I can see why people think this; Harry is both older than Jean and has significantly more power than him in terms of his position in precinct 41 and his reputation. he’s a drunk who showed a repeated pattern of physical and verbal aggression. in my opinion, he definitely abused jean, but the behaviour we see from JEAN towards harry is more abusive than ANYTHING harry can do to him in the game

harry is a severely mentally ill man, likely neurodivergent, and a very dependent addict. in real life, people like him are at an incredibly high likelihood of being taken advantage of an abandoned, and we see this happening in elysium too (e.g the pigs). does this excuse all the bad things he does? no. if he did abuse Jean, does it excuse that? no. but it does provide us with a rather disturbing insight into how jean might have treated harry before martinaise. I’ve seen some people say that the only reason why jean acts the way he does in-game towards harry is because he’s so fed-up with him by now that he doesn’t want to be nice, and while I somewhat agree with that interpretation, it still doesn’t excuse some of the things he says. after all, if he’s willing to act like this NOW, what is there to say he didn’t act like this prior? there must have been so many points in the past where jean was put in a very similar situation of being exhausted by harry- the game practically states this itself. what it tells me is that this is a repeated pattern of behaviour, which means that, even before martinaise, jean was taking part in the abuse of a mentally disabled person. that abuse was almost definitely mutual, of course- these things can and do happen, and harry was hardly helpless. what im saying is that Jean definitely participated in this abuse, just like he participates in the toxic cop culture of the RCM. even if he was a victim of it as well as a perpetuator, just like all the citizens of revachol are, in some way or another, victims of the coalition, it still doesn’t excuse it. i think Harry and jeans relationship could in some way have been intended to speak to that dichotomy- of the abuser and the abused, of the powerful and the privileged, and how class traitors like the RCM officers we get to know in disco elysium speak to the blurred lines between the two. kim is a biracial homosexual man who actively participates in a culture that likely oppresses both of those groups. harry is a disabled person and drug addict who ruined the life of another drug addict for no reason and can leave another disabled person to die or rot in a jail cell. jean is a mentally ill man who works in a system that oppresses mentally ill people and participates in the abuse of his disabled colleague/friend, despite/because he is abused himself by that same person

the powerless are often the most eager to become the powerful. that’s the core of the reason why many of the RCM officers we meet probably joined; to increase their power against the downtrodden instead of joining them to create a better world.

…anyway. sorry that this is bible-length. this was meant to be an analysis of how the DE fandom treats jean vicquemare and why, but i got a bit carried away at the end there. hope you enjoyed regardless

I think the main reason why the DE fandom as a whole likes jean so much is because he has hardly any backstory apart from being Harry’s long-suffering partner. we don’t really know him as a character, but we have enough crumbs (e.g him having very persistent clinical depression and being in a by all accounts mutually abusive codependent relationship with a superior) that it provides incredibly good fodder for headcanons, and we all know that people love fanon interpretations of characters (for better and for worse)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii!! I love your writing for the batboys!

So my request is Jason and Dick with a s/o and their like cuddling exchanging kisses relaxing and one of their brothers get them for a mission and see their brother (Jason/Dick) with their s/o for the first time. (Maybe the other batboy didn't know Jason/Dick had a girlfriend)

Okieee! Have a great day!

Dick

Cuddled himself into your side, burying his head into your neck, on the verge of falling asleep but not quite there yet as he hummed whenever you ran your fingers through his hair.

‘You like it when I run my fingers through your hair, you might as well be purring.’ You told him while giggling as he tightened his grip on your waist when he felt you shift slightly beneath him. ‘You’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Dick said sluggishly as he pushed his head further into your hand, impatient as he waited for you to continue running your fingers through his hair whenever you stopped briefly.

‘I would but you already act more than enough like a puppy regardless. I guess what they say about dogs and owners looking alike is more true in your case but instead of looks it’s personality.’ You said as you gently tugged his hair, causing him to groan as he then retaliated by deliberately kissing under your jaw and down your neck slowly as he could.

‘You think you’re funny don’t you?’ Dick asks against your neck.

‘I think I’m hilarious when you’re concerned dickbird.’ You gasped when you felt him nibble on your skin, ‘but you love me for it really.’ You added as he raised his head to look at you with a cute little pout across his tired face. You hated how exhausted he looked and so you had decided earlier that day that he was scheduled for some much needed rest, even going so far as to drag him to bed when he was too stubborn to leave a case for a measly five minutes just to eat food.

‘I do, love you I mean.’ Dick said softly as he raised his head to kiss your lips as you hummed happily against him, just as the door to his room swung open.

‘Alright dickhead, time to-‘ Jason looked up to see that he had clearly instructed something and instead of leaving he decided to stand in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

‘I didn’t know you had company in here.’ Jason then said.

‘What do you think I normally do?’ Dick asked his younger brother as he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Piss us about usually.’ Jason replied almost casually that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sibling spat. ‘Now I’m sorry to cut your lovers embrace short but we need to go, preferably now because I don’t know how much longer Tim and Damian can remain together in awkward silence.’ Dick sighed and kissed your cheek as he begun to pull himself away from you begrudgingly.

‘Sorry peanut, I promise you I’ll cuddle you as soon as I get home.’ Dick said when he saw you pout, hand tugging at his shirt which only made him want to say fuck it and stay in your arms, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jason alone to deal with Damian and Tim the entire night without them unironically pissing the other off somehow. ‘For now I’ve got some siblings to keep away from killing each other, so keep the bed warm for me yeah?.’ He adds as he cups your face and kisses you on the lips, nose and forehead.

‘It’ll be cosy and warm when you come home, that and probably smelling of dog too.’ You said as you kissed the space between his brows, cussing dick to smile and relax beneath your lips, he didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t but he knew that when he did come back it’ll be all the more worth while.

‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart.’ Dick replied, completely ignoring Jason who was wondering how the fuck you managed to deal with his brother for as long as you have.

Jason had you cosied up to his side as he continued to read a book he has been meaning to catch up on for a long while but couldn’t in due to the random spikes in crime as of late.

Which unfortunately meant that quality time between yourself and Jason was short lived. So when you were finally able to have Jason by your side for longer then an a few brief moments, you were bound to leap at the opportunity to cling onto him and smother him in kisses, much like you were doing now across his jawline and down his neck.

‘Miss me that much chipmunk?’ Jason asked with a smile as he paused his reading to rear his head back, allowing you further access to his neck, smiling to himself as he felt your lips caress his skin pleasantly. Jason was very much in need for affection after going without it for far longer then he might’ve liked, especially when most days it seemed as though your affection was all that helped Jason in getting through the day; and being deprived of such was a different kind of torture for Jason when he had finally gotten accustomed to it since the start of your relationship.

‘I did,’ you admitted, kissing his pulse on his neck before pulling away to smile up at him, ‘but with how tightly your holding my waist, I’d say you’ve missed me just as much jaybird.’ You added cheekily as you gestured down to the hand that was gripping your waist almost protectively with a playful glint in your eyes.

Jason scoffed as he then tugged you closer to him, making sure to rest his forehead against your own as he spoke, ‘I did miss you chipmunk, I’m not ashamed to admit it because most days it seemed as though you were the only thing keeping me going most of the time.’ He smiles sweetly at you as he kissed your forehead, you closed your eyes and leant into his touch happily, finding bliss at long last.

Only for the door to Jason’s room to burst open. ‘Jason! Are you ready yet Damian’s- oh.’ Dick stoped mid sentence when he noticed you cuddling up to his brother’s side.

You and Jason looked at Dick, who seemed frozen on the spot with his sudden stillness and unblinking eyes, before looking at each other.

‘Is he…okay?’ You whispered to Jason, concerned.

‘He’s fine. Dick’s just being…well a dick.’ Jason replied as he picked up a pillow and threw it in Dick’s direction, ‘Paging dr dickhead.’ He adds as the pillow hit dick square in the face as you slapped Jason on the bicep. ‘Be nice to your friend? Brother? I don’t know-‘

‘I didn’t know you had a significant other Jason!’ Dick exclaimed, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place as he smiled widely at you both.

‘And there’s a good reason for that.’ Jason growled as his hand on your waist tightened.

‘So they’re the reason you didn’t want to come out on patrol tonight?’ Dick continued as he made himself comfortable on the edge of Jason’s bed. ‘Who knew my little bro Jay jay was in love.’ He teased and he tried to pinch Jason’s cheeks, only for Jason to smack it away with a grunt, dick shrugs as he played on his stomach and kicked his legs. ‘So tell me how you met, leave no detail out of it.’

Needless to say dick has to be dragged out of the room by the scruff of his neck by an agitated Jason as he dropped him off with Damian, who was sharping his sword, and said ‘he’s your problem now.’ And went back to his room to you to cuddle.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 16

masterpost

“Jason!”

“What the fuck, dickhead,” Jason snapped as he stomped Dick’s way. “What if Danny—”

“Danny’s gone.”

“…what?”

“Danny… Danny’s gone,” Dick repeated. He shoved the tablet against Jason’s chest.

Danny was gone.

Another little brother that had left with nothing but a note. Another little brother heading alone into danger. Another little brother—

No.

No no no.

It wouldn’t go that way. It couldn’t go that way. Dick had failed Jason, but he wouldn’t fail Danny. Dick wouldn’t let Danny die.

Dick slapped a hand over his mouth to try and smother the hysterical laughter.

He wouldn’t let Danny die? Who did he think he was. Danny had died. Danny had died again and again and again. Danny had died until his hair was bleached white and his body was covered in scars. Danny had already died so many times. Dick couldn’t save him.

They could already have Danny.

How long had he been gone?

They would kill Danny. They would kill him again.

A rough hand grabbed at Dick’s arm. Dick swept it off. Punch, blocked. Raised a knee to the side. It’s soft there. Weak. Follow with a punch. Duck. Block. Move—

A gasp was knocked out of Dick as his back hit a wall, hard.

“Take another breath.”

What?

“Come on Dick, take another breath.”

The heavy weight of someone else leaned against Dick, pinning him in place. A rough hand on his cheek tapped out a rhythm.

“Breathe for me, big bird.”

“Jay?” Dick gasped.

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, Dick, come back to me. I need… I need you here, big bird. I need you here to help. I can’t find him without you.”

“Danny.”

“Yeah.”

Dick forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath. “Sorry.”

“I get it.” Jason sounded a little wrecked himself. “I get it. But I need you with me, so open your eyes for me, okay?”

Dick took another breath and then did as he was told. He did his best to smile a little, though he knew that it was weak. “Don’t worry, not at the hallucinating stage or anything.”

Jason’s brow furrowed further. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dick said quickly. “Okay. Right. I’ll call Bruce, you get Babs and then have Babs get everyone else.”

“On it. You going to suit up or stay civies?” Jason asked as he pulled away and pulled his phone out.

Dick instantly missed the weight of his brother. For a moment it felt like everything would fly apart again and he forced himself to suck in a harsh breath. It was only thanks to his training that his fingers didn’t tremble as he pulled up Bruce’s number. “Suit, I think. Get a bird’s eye view. You?”

“Civies,” Jason answered and headed for his shoes. “Less chance of panic. Hey, Babs? I know, you’re at work, but this is an all hands-on deck. Danny’s gone.”

Dick listened to the ringing and then the answering click.

“Chum?”

“Dad?” Dick’s voice almost broke all over again. They were supposed to keep Bruce’s kid safe. They hadn’t even let him meet Danny yet. And now… “Danny’s gone.”

-

“Mr. Wayne—” started one of the people in the meeting.

Bruce didn’t care right then to spend the energy identifying which one. He just snapped out ‘family emergency’ as he quickly exited the room. “Dick, talk to me.”

Whatever had been going on, whatever needed to go on in that meeting, wasn’t as important as his son on the line. His son who sounded breathless with panic.

“Danny ran. He left a note on his tablet and ran. He left his phone too.”

A chill ran down Bruce’s spine. Danny. “What did he take with him?”

“I don’t know,” Dick said. Bruce could hear Dick swallowing back his panic. The line was filled with soft clicks as others joined the call. It seemed to help center Dick. “Nothing much. He left his tablet, it’s what he had note on and left his phone too. He has the clothes he was wearing— hoodie, t-shirt, jeans. Shoes are gone.”

“Bear?” Cass asked, her voice strained.

Bruce jogged for the elevators. Once in, he pressed the right combination of buttons to take him down to the secret level, leaving his thumb on the last one for it to scan his fingerprint.

“What? Um, no, I don’t see it. Jason! Is Danny’s blue bear out there?” Dick called.

“I’m on the comms, don’t fucking scream,” Jason chimed in. He sounded better than the others at the moment, but he always did alright while he had something to do. It was afterwards they had to watch out for. “I don’t see it.”

“Cass,” Bruce asked slowly, “did you put a tracker in Danny’s bear?”

“Tim,” Cass replied.

Tim made an affronted noise. “You told me to!”

Cass hummed.

“Okay, fine, you implied for me to. But you put it on the table while I was checking the tracker in Danny’s tablet. Which, by the way, he totally saw and left!”

“Tim.” Bruce interrupted. All of this could wait until later. Really it was something Danny wasn’t full of trackers with this family. Right then Bruce was happy for Cass and Tim’s overstep.

“I’m pulling it up,” Tim snapped back. “I had to leave class— Bruce! He’s still in the area. He’s… I think he’s headed towards WE!”

Bruce slammed the combo of buttons that would cancel out the rapid descent to the secret bunker and jabbed the ground floor button instead. “What street is he taking?”

“Novik street name and coming your way.”

“Going now,” Bruce said as he slipped in an ear bud and put his phone back in his pocket.

It was raining. Bruce didn’t even register it was raining until he reached up to wipe the water out of his face.

“This rain won’t be good for his injuries.”

“We can take care of them when he’s back,” Jason rumbled across the line. For all of Jason’s self claimed issues with anger, he was so calm under panic.

“You should have warm drinks ready.”

“Sure, we can make sure of that.” Jason was placating him, Bruce knew that, but he didn’t mind it. Mindless planning was just a way for Bruce to steal his nerves against all of the horrible possibilities.

Danny could go in another direction.

Danny could run when he saw Bruce.

Danny could just run away again. He could get sick. He could be re-injured. He could be hurt.

They could get him.

Whoever they were. If Danny ran, they could get to Danny first.

“Take the next right. You should have eyes on him instantly,” Tim directed. His own worry threaded through his voice, but Bruce had no doubt the information was accurate.

Still, Bruce slowed his steps.

His son was right around the corner.

Bruce pushed the rain-soaked hair off his forehead once again, took a deep breath, and turned the corner.

Someone slammed into Bruce.

Someone too small and too slim and trembling in the cold rain.

“Sorry! Wasn’t watching…” Danny trailed off as he stared up at Bruce, blue eyes wide. “I… um… I just…”

Bruce crouched down, not caring about the water seeping into his suit where he had taken a knee on the dirty sidewalk. Gently he reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s cold cheek.

“It’s okay, Danny.”

“You know. You know but… but how…?”

“They called me when you left.” It wasn’t a lie. It was hardly the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie. There were a lot of truths that would have to come out now.

Danny shivered. “They…”

“They’re worried about you,” Bruce explained, “and I’m very glad that they called.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Danny whispered. His eyes were wide, weary, afraid. It was an expression Bruce used to know too well. It used to stare back at him from the mirror before he had found his path as Batman. Bruce hated that Danny felt like that.

“I am,” Bruce said, voice low and serious. “I am and I am so very glad to meet you, Danny.”

Danny wiped at his eyes, almost angrily brushing away the tears even as they mixed with the rain. “I didn’t— I didn’t want to be a mess when I met you.”

“It’s okay that you are, life is messy,” Bruce said sincerely. “If you ask my kids… if you ask my other kids, they’ll tell you I’m often a mess.”

A choked back laugh interrupted the quiet sobs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Danny started suddenly, leaning to look behind Bruce.

A beat later, before Bruce could ask, Jason’s voice came through the earpiece. “We’re pulling up.”

Sure enough, an unassuming black car pulled around the corner and up to the curb. To Bruce’s surprise, Danny didn’t try to run, not even as an unmasked Dick rushed out of the passenger side.

Danny’s eyes did widened as he scanned Dick’s bare face. “N—”

“Dick,” Dick interrupted quickly.

“What?”

“It’s short for Richard,” Dick explained with a tense smile. He came the rest of the way around the car and crouched down a little. “Please come back, Danny. Come back and get warm and have hot chocolate and talk to us.”

Danny shook his head. “They’ll find me. They’ll find me and that means they’ll find you all and they’ll try to—” Danny paused, mouth working around some words till he found what he needed. “They’ll hurt your little brothers.”

Bruce brushed his hand through Danny’s hair. He couldn’t help it. Danny was Dick’s little brother too; Danny just didn’t know it yet. Danny was as worth protecting as anyone Dick loved. The touch brought Danny’s attention back to Bruce.

“We can keep you safe,” Bruce said. “Between my wealth and the manpower, we can keep you safe.”

“You can’t promise that,” Danny pleaded, his voice cracking. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”

“Then come back with us, Dandelion, and explain what we’re up against,” Dick pleaded. “If we really can’t keep you safe, we can talk about contingencies, but I’m with Bruce, we can find a way. I know you don’t think so, but at least give us the information so that we can try. Don’t just leave us.”

Danny looked between Bruce and Dick, looking for the word like he wanted to angle towards them and wasn’t letting himself. “But…”

The window rolled down and Jason leaned across the seat. His face was still red from where he had ripped the domino off. “Kid, Danny… don’t run for me. Not for me or Damian or anyone else. None of us would be okay losing you just to stay safe.”

Danny rubbed his arm over his face again. “They’ll hurt you.”

“I’ve already died once.”

“There’s worse things than death.”

“I know, Danny,” Jason said, his voice softer than Bruce had heard it in a long time, “and losing you would be one of them. So come back with us.”

Danny was muffling body wracking sobs now, but he let Dick guide them into the back seat and close the door.

Bruce basically collapsed into the passenger seat. He reached out and clasped the back of Jason’s neck and pressed their foreheads together for a moment. Then he let go so that Jason could turn off the emergency lights and pull back out into traffic.

“Let’s get you back.”

Danny was silent the ride, letting Dick dry his hair with towels they had brought. Bruce used one himself to try and get off the worst of the water even as he kept an eye on the back seat. This isn’t how he would have wanted it to go, but he had finally met Danny. He’d finally met his son.

A son who couldn’t believe he cared.

Bruce closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.

Jason squeezed Bruce’s shoulder, just a momentary touch, before they got out of the car the short ride later. Dick filled the elevator ride and walk to the door with chatter about them all drying off and changing and having some warm coco. Bruce just watched as Dick led Danny away to the one bedroom.

“Come on, old man,” Jason said. “You can change into some of my stuff.”

Bruce nodded. He started to shuck off his wet suit even as Jason laid out a change of clothing. Alfred would fuss. Bruce didn’t care. Jason was already busy in the kitchen by the time Bruce came back out, but it was still a bit longer until Dick and Danny joined them.

“Danny,” Bruce said, crouching down again like he had on the wet cement. “I know we have a lot to talk about. Some of it won’t be easy. But I need you to know that no matter what, I want you here because you’re my son.”

Danny laughed, an awful broken sound, and looked up at Bruce with those scared blue eyes that Bruce knew too well. “That’s the thing. I’m not. I’m not your son. I’m your clone.”

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ three word prompts

¹⁾ “it’s getting late”

²⁾ “you look terrible.”

³⁾ “who did this?!”

⁴⁾ “i feel awful.”

⁵⁾ “they’re all lying.”

⁶⁾ “let me help.”

⁷⁾ “try to eat.”

⁸⁾ “i’m so tired.”

⁹⁾ “just tell me!”

¹⁰⁾ “it’s for you.”

¹¹⁾ “i tried calling.”

¹²⁾ “this is fucked.”

¹³⁾ “here- try this!”

¹⁴⁾ “you’re a nightmare.”

¹⁵⁾ “can’t sleep either?”

¹⁶⁾ “you never answer!”

¹⁷⁾ “…that’s my shirt.”

¹⁸⁾ “i’m running late.”

¹⁹⁾ “here’s my number.”

²⁰⁾ “you look amazing.”

²¹⁾ “it’s work, again.”

²²⁾ “not here, please.”

²³⁾ “please, don’t cry.”

²⁴⁾ “it’s all over.”

²⁵⁾ “you’re safe now.”

²⁶⁾ “come to bed.”

²⁷⁾ “let me help.”

²⁸⁾ “fancy a drink?”

²⁹⁾ “i didn’t! swear!”

³⁰⁾ “oh, fuck me.”

³¹⁾ “no-one’ll hurt you.”

³²⁾ “it’s pouring out!”

³³⁾ “take my coat.”

³⁴⁾ “come here, idiot.”

³⁶⁾ “are you alright?”

³⁷⁾ “c’mon- try this.”

³⁸⁾ “what’s the time?”

³⁹⁾ “my back’s sore.”

⁴⁰⁾ “lean on me.”

⁴¹⁾ “take a picture!”

⁴²⁾ “please, let go.”

⁴³⁾ “how’d you remember?”

⁴⁴⁾ “that’s not fair.”

⁴⁵⁾ “got my flowers?”

⁴⁶⁾ “it’s so cold.”

⁴⁷⁾ “take my bed.”

⁴⁸⁾ “do you care?”

⁴⁹⁾ “where’re you from?”

⁵⁰⁾ “you look exhausted.”

⁵¹⁾ “argh- you’re freezing!”

⁵²⁾ “it’s not safe!”

⁵³⁾ “don’t go there.”

⁵⁴⁾ “that tastes… different.”

⁵⁵⁾ “this shouldn’t hurt.”

⁵⁶⁾ “you’re so warm.”

⁵⁷⁾ “your hair’s soft.”

⁵⁸⁾ “where’d that happen?”

⁵⁹⁾ “…that’s not mine.”

⁶⁰⁾ “i never lied.”

⁶¹⁾ “is that mine?”

⁶²⁾ “the lock’s broken.”

⁶³⁾ “the path’s stopped.”

⁶⁴⁾ “… cake? seriously, now?!”

⁶⁵⁾ “another cold case?”

⁶⁶⁾ “i smell smoke.”

⁶⁷⁾ “pick a movie.”

⁶⁸⁾ “we just kissed.”

⁶⁹⁾ “peach lip gloss?”

⁷⁰⁾ “i missed you.”

⁷¹⁾ “your mascara’s ruined.”

⁷²⁾ “the trail’s cold.”

⁷³⁾ “i run hot.”

⁷⁴⁾ “take my hand!”

⁷⁵⁾ “vodka at midday?”

⁷⁶⁾ “you started it!”

⁷⁷⁾ “your cooking’s phenomenal.”

⁷⁸⁾ “the dog’s cuter.”

⁷⁹⁾ “there’s one bed.”

⁸⁰⁾ “it’s too hot.”

⁸¹⁾ “i’m too old.”

⁸²⁾ “it’s a mistake!”

⁸³⁾ “the motel’s closed.”

⁸⁴⁾ “my ring’s missing.”

⁸⁵⁾ “he isn’t answering.”

⁸⁶⁾ “oh. i’m sorry.”

⁸⁷⁾ “have you eaten?”

⁸⁸⁾ “ah- that’s enough.”

⁸⁹⁾ “what’s wrong now?”

⁹⁰⁾ “you’ve been crying.”

⁹¹⁾ “let me drive.”

⁹²⁾ “nice uniform, dickhead.”

⁹³⁾ “the ladder’s gone!”

⁹⁴⁾ “that’s gonna bruise.”

⁹⁵⁾ “fuck- you’re sick.”

⁹⁶⁾ “i made breakfast.”

⁹⁷⁾ “careful, it’s hot.”

⁹⁸⁾ “got a lighter?”

⁹⁹⁾ “just- why him?”

¹⁰⁰⁾ “you’re safe here.”

¹⁰¹⁾ “we’ve gotta leave.”

¹⁰²⁾ “there’s sand everywhere!”

¹⁰³⁾ “you fell asleep.”

¹⁰⁴⁾ “your birthday’s tomorrow.”

¹⁰⁵⁾ “you killed it!”

¹⁰⁶⁾ “…this is awkward.”

¹⁰⁷⁾ “you lost, sucker!”

¹⁰⁸⁾ “fuck- you’re bleeding.”

¹⁰⁹⁾ “wear that dress.”

¹¹⁰⁾ “sorry for that.”

¹¹¹⁾ “fucking shut up!”

¹¹²⁾ “my wallet’s missing.”

¹¹³⁾ “the electricity’s out.”

¹¹⁴⁾ “just my luck.”

¹¹⁵⁾ “you’re drunk, honey.”

¹¹⁶⁾ “call an ambulance!”

¹¹⁷⁾ “what’s that smell?”

¹¹⁸⁾ “shit, i’m hit.”

¹¹⁹⁾ “we’ve been made.”

¹²⁰⁾ “it’s so early.”

¹²¹⁾ “what’s wrong now?”

¹²²⁾ “let it go!”

¹²³⁾ “fix your makeup.”

¹²⁴⁾ “the damage’s done.”

¹²⁵⁾ “please, don’t tell.”

¹²⁶⁾ “i didn’t cheat!”

¹²⁷⁾ “how’s the hangover?”

¹²⁸⁾ “i’ll do better.”

¹²⁹⁾ “sh, i’ll pay.”

¹³⁰⁾ “i’m going home.”

¹³¹⁾ “the bath’s ready.”

¹³²⁾ “they loved you!”

¹³³⁾ “that’s your nickname?!”

¹³⁴⁾ “stay the night.”

¹³⁵⁾ “show me. now!”

¹³⁶⁾ “…a ball gag?!”

¹³⁷⁾ “that painting’s… unique.”

¹³⁸⁾ “christ, that’s strong.”

¹³⁹⁾ “my face hurts.”

¹⁴⁰⁾ “the basement flooded.”

¹⁴¹⁾ “your lipstick’s everywhere!”

¹⁴²⁾ “you’re a nutjob.”

¹⁴³⁾ “mind the glass!”

¹⁴⁴⁾ “go to sleep.”

¹⁴⁵⁾ “let me see.”

¹⁴⁶⁾ “it’s so late.”

¹⁴⁷⁾ “cute glasses, dork.”

¹⁴⁸⁾ “you want what?!”

¹⁴⁹⁾ “this is mental.”

¹⁵⁰⁾ “it’s a wedding!”

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Training Session

luke castellan x reader

A/N: had a cutie little request for this so i hope it delivers everything you wanted

WARNINGS: SMUT!, semi-public sex, knife kink, jealous luke, getting caught (oopsie)

WORD COUNT: 1,073 words

“You know, anyone in this camp would be bloody grateful to train with me.” Luke says as he shoves you to the ground with his shield after you cursed him out for about the fifth time during the sparring session.

“You’re an arrogant dickhead.” You snap at him as you pull yourself back to your feet.

“It isn’t arrogance if it’s backed up.” He states as he swings at you, barely giving you a chance to block the attack at your throat.

“Gods, Luke. You nearly took my head off!”

“I didn’t though, did I?” He continues on the offence before you see your chance and swipe at his feet. It was a good move but you don’t make any contact. “Finally.” He murmurs. “This was starting to get pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” You scoff, your anger rising. “If I had a dagger in my hands, you’d be dead in seconds.”

“At least I can handle a dagger. You look like a clumsy toddler wielding that sword.” He laughs, attacking you again and knocking the steel from your hands.

Was he just toying with you?

“I don’t know why I even put up with your shit.” You start to reach down for your sword, planning to collect your things and leave before you’re stopped by the feeling of the sharpest part of his blade against your throat.

“Training with me makes you better.” He says assuredly as he lifts your head with the tip of his sword until you’re standing straight. You don’t think he would cut you… but he might.

“I could also train with another man to make myself better.” You say snarkily.

His eyes darken and he grabs your arm to pull you closer to him, his sword is still held to your neck like he might slit it. “You won’t. No other guy can do what I can.”

“I could always try one out.” You say, sensing the possession in his voice.

“I won’t let you.” He growls.

“What are you going to do to stop me?”

Silence for 1… 2… 3 seconds and then his lips are smashed against yours. He carelessly tosses his sword to the side. It doesn’t matter nearly as much as what he is going to do to you right now.

“Luke,” You murmur as you pull away. “Someone is gonna see.”

He smirks. “You must really wanna kiss me if all you’re worried about is privacy. Besides, everyone is at dinner by now.” His lips chase yours as he tries to pull you in for another kiss.

“And we should be at dinner too.” You protest.

“No, we should be laying you down on the bench and getting out all this pent up tension.”

You have to admit that his strength from before was turning you on. What girl doesn’t like to be pinned down with a sword pressed to her throat… and another one pressed to her thigh.

“Someone will catch us.”

“Not if you’re extra quiet.” He keeps pecking tantalizing kisses to your lips that distract you as he lies you down on the bench.

“I swear to the gods, if someone sees us, i’ll kill you.” You murmur as he pulls off your pants.

“As is your right.” He smirks as he pulls down your panties, eyes zeroed in on your sticky sweet cunt. “Can I?” He asks, looking into your eyes eagerly and you nod.

Your cheeks flush at the way he eats you out. You can feel the absolute yearning in his tongue as your fingers thread through his curly locks.

“Good girl, baby.” He murmurs against your pussy as you try to keep the whining mewls from falling from your lips.

You know you have to be quiet but you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. You end up biting down on your tongue when you hit your peak so you barely let out a sound.

“Fuck, you taste so perfect.”

 He moves back up to kiss you, looking ever so pleased with himself as he palms at your tits. You feel him pressing against your thigh once again.

“Let me fuck you now?” It’s phrased as a question but you hear the dominance in his voice.

“Hmm… I guess so.” You say playfully, as if you don’t need him so achingly.

“You think so? I’ll have you begging by the end of this.” Luke says and you feel his cock sliding through your wetness, collecting it as lubricant. 

It doesn’t even sting when he pushes into you, not with how desperately you want for him. He looks into your eyes again, gaging how you’re doing before he begins to thrust. You feel as if you’re being sent to heaven and back with each movement.

“You think another guy could fuck you this good?” He says as he starts to pound into you.

“No, Luke.” You whine with each slam of his hips.

“No man will ever train or take care of you as well as I can. I’ll kill the bastard who thinks he can match me.” He fucks into you so hard that you start seeing stars. “Say it. Say no man compares to me.” He commands.

“No guy compares, Luke… there’s only you.”

You squirm a little as he lifts one of your legs to hook over his shoulder. You aren’t sure if you can handle how much deeper he gets in the new position. His hand slips up your shirt now so he can feel your skin on his and the look on his face is angelic. Mortals compare beautiful men to Greek Gods all the time but Luke doesn’t look like just any half-blood; he truly does look like a god. You swear that if you saw Eros in person, he would be imaged after Luke himself.

“Mmm i’m gonna cum.” You breathe out.

“I know, baby. You can cum.” He coos, giving you the last thrusts you need before you’re squeezing around him. The pressure alone is enough to cause him to spill himself inside of you. “You did so well, princess, so well.”

He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before helping you to get dressed, whispering kind words into your ear as he does. All would have been fine and well… If Luke had a chance to pull his jeans back up before Percy walked around the corner.

“Hey guys, everyone is wondering whe- oh what the fuck.”

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween  @10ava01

[luvfae]

BAD INVESTMENT

PART TWENTY FOUR

summary: thanos takes you to retrieve your things, but myung-gi arrives drunk and begging.

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader, lee myung gi x f!reader

warnings: swearing, domestic violence

bad investment masterlist

The next day, Thanos drove you to your old apartment to collect your things. Your heart pounded as you neared the building, hands clenched into fists in your lap. Myung-Gi’s car wasn’t in its usual spot. That was a relief. You weren’t sure you could handle another confrontation—not yet.

Thanos must have noticed your tension because his hand briefly left the wheel to squeeze your thigh. “We get in, we get out,” he said. “If he shows up, I deal with it.”

You nodded, but you didn’t want it to come to that.

As soon as you unlocked the door, you hurried inside, rushing down the hallway. You wanted to grab everything before Myung-Gi got back—before you had to see his face again.

Thanos wasted no time, moving to your bedroom, tearing through your wardrobe, yanking clothes off hangers and stuffing them into duffel bags. His movements were quick, efficient, but fueled by a quiet rage. Every time he saw a piece of your clothing, a trace of your life in this place, it made his jaw tighten.

You darted into the bathroom, sweeping your skincare and toiletries into a suitcase, tossing in your toothbrush, your hairbrush, anything that belonged to you.

The faster you moved, the faster you could leave this place behind.

You rushed back to the bedroom, pulling open drawers, stuffing socks, underwear, anything you could grab into a bag.

And then you heard it.

The front door opening.

Your breath caught in your throat. You froze, glancing up at Thanos. His entire body went rigid, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” he muttered, voice dark.

“No,” you hissed. “Stay here. This doesn’t have to be hard.”

Thanos narrowed his eyes at you, looking like he was seconds from storming out there. “You seriously think he deserves easy?” he growled.

You ignored that. “Please, just let me handle it.”

His jaw clenched, but he yanked the zipper of another duffel bag closed. “Fine,” he bit out. “But if that dickhead so much as breathes wrong, I’m not standing around.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before stepping out of the room.

Myung-Gi was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, eating from a bowl of rice like he hadn’t just walked into a nightmare. His eyes flicked up when he saw you. They ghosted over your face, over the fading bruises around your eye and cheekbone.

“Hi,” you said, throat dry.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared. His jaw worked for a moment.

“I’m just getting my stuff,” you continued, voice carefully neutral. “Then I’ll be gone.”

He took another bite of rice, chewing slowly. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip on the chopsticks tightened.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said finally. “You know that, right?”

You flinched, biting the inside of your cheek. “Stop,” you said quietly. “Just don’t, Myung-Gi.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “So this is it, huh?” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’re really leaving.”

You didn’t answer.

His lips twisted. “How many guys did you have lined up?”

You blinked. “What?”

His eyes flashed. “Who answered your phone yesterday?” he demanded.

You swallowed, pulse pounding in your ears. “My appa,” you lied.

He scoffed. “Lying slut.”

You turned away from him, grabbing the last of your things from the coffee table—candles, books, a pair of earrings you never packed away. Just a few more minutes and you’d be out of here. Out of this life.

But Myung-Gi wasn’t done.

He stepped around the kitchen counter, positioning himself behind you. His presence was suffocating, thick with something desperate and ugly. Before you could move, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back.

You flinched.

“Don’t flinch,” he said, voice tight with something almost pained. “Jesus, I fucked this up, didn’t I?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look over your shoulder at him. His dark eyes were glassy, unfocused—the kind of look he got when he’d had too much to drink.

“Can’t we work this out, baby?” he asked. And that’s when you smelled it. The alcohol. It clung to him, soaked into his breath, his clothes. “I bought a ring and everything. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment.”

Your stomach twisted, your chest tightening. Six months ago, if he had gotten down on one knee, you would’ve said yes without hesitation. You would’ve cried, kissed him, sworn you’d love him forever.

Now, the thought made your skin crawl.

“I miss you, I miss us,” he continued, his fingers loosening slightly around your wrist. “C’mon, Y/N. Look, I may have been an asshole, but I’m still the same guy you fell in love with.”

“No, you’re not.” Your voice was ice. “The Myung-Gi I fell in love with would fucking hate the man standing in front of me.” You ripped your wrist from his grasp, stepping away. “The man who hit me.”

His expression twisted, something dark flashing behind his eyes. “That was a low moment. You—” He sucked in a sharp breath. “You pushed me to my limit.”

You scoffed, disgust curling in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“Sorry?” you snapped. “Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I had to go to the hospital. Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m covered in fucking bruises. Sorry doesn’t erase what you did, Myung-Gi. It doesn’t fucking fix anything.”

“I’m a good guy, Y/N,” he argued. “You know that.”

“Were.” Your voice cut through the room like a blade. “You were a good guy.”

He exhaled sharply, ignoring you. “I put a roof over our heads. I helped you get your job. I helped pay off your car.” His jaw clenched. “I never cheated on you… well, maybe once or twice, but one time doesn’t change how I feel.”

Silence.

You blinked at him. “You cheated on me?”

He froze.

You laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was fucking pathetic. “And here I was, feeling guilty about fucking someone else while we were still together.”

Myung-Gi’s hands balled into fists.

Your smirk widened. “I thought this was my karma. But no.” You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is your fucking karma, Myung-Gi.”

Something inside him snapped.

With a sudden, violent movement, he lunged, slamming you against the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of you, your vision flashing white for a second.

“What’d you say?” he hissed, face inches from yours.

You sucked in a breath, looking him right in the eye. “What are you gonna do, Myung-Gi?” You bared your teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Hit me again?”

His hand shot up, fingers wrapping around your throat.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He squeezed.

Air. You needed air. You clawed at his wrist, nails digging into his skin, letting out strangled cries as your lungs burned. Stars exploded in your vision, your pulse pounding against your skull.

“You’re not going anywhere, you fucking bitch,” he snarled.

He was so focused on you—so blinded by his own rage—that he didn’t hear the footsteps.

Didn’t see the shadow looming behind him.

Didn’t realize anyone else was there—

Thanos’ fist connected with Myung-Gi’s jaw with a sickening crack. The force of it sent him sprawling onto the floor, a choked grunt escaping his lips as blood spattered across the tile.

The moment Myung-Gi’s grip on you was gone, your knees buckled. You collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, hands clutching at your burning throat. Your lungs fought to pull in breath, your vision swimming with black spots.

But Thanos didn’t stop.

He was on Myung-Gi in an instant, fists raining down, blow after brutal blow. Myung-Gi tried to shield himself, but it was useless—Thanos was bigger, stronger, and absolutely fucking enraged.

“This what you like, huh?” Thanos snarled, slamming a fist into his ribs. A sickening crunch echoed through the apartment. “Beating on someone weaker than you?” Another punch—this time to the face, sending Myung-Gi’s head snapping back against the floor. “Not so fucking fun when someone fights back, is it?”

Myung-Gi coughed, blood pooling in his mouth. His hands scrambled against the floor, desperate, shaking. “P-please—”

Thanos grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up just to slam him back down. “No, you don’t get to beg.” His knuckles were split, dripping with Myung-Gi’s blood. His lip curled. “You fucking touch her again, I’ll bury you.”

You forced yourself up, legs still weak, head still spinning. “Su-Bong,” you rasped, voice hoarse. He didn’t hear you.

He raised his fist again.

You saw it then—the way Myung-Gi’s eyes rolled back, his body going limp. He was barely conscious, his face already a swollen, bloody mess. One more hit, and Thanos might actually kill him.

“Su-Bong, stop!” you cried, grabbing his arm.

He didn’t move. His entire body was rigid, breathing heavy, shoulders rising and falling with each ragged inhale.

You pushed against him, shoving him back. “I said stop!”

For a second, it felt like he might ignore you. That he might keep going until Myung-Gi was nothing more than a lifeless heap on the floor.

But then, slowly, his grip loosened. His chest heaved. He let out a sharp breath, pushing himself off Myung-Gi, shoulders still tense with barely restrained fury.

Myung-Gi groaned, rolling onto his side, spitting blood onto the tile. His swollen eyes blinked open, unfocused, before landing on you.

He let out a breathless, wet laugh. “Fuck, Y/N,” he croaked. “Why him?” His swollen lips curled in something almost like a sneer. “Anyone but fucking him.”

Thanos’ jaw twitched. His boot collided with Myung-Gi’s stomach, sending him coughing, gagging.

“Su-Bong!” You grabbed his arm again, harder this time. “Enough.”

Thanos exhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring, before stepping back.

Myung-Gi groaned, his arms weakly wrapping around his midsection. His face was wrecked—blood dripping from his nose, his cheek already bruising deep purple. But even beaten, breathless, he still had the audacity to talk.

“You think he’s any better than me?” he rasped, spitting out more blood. “That he’s some great fucking guy?” He let out another weak laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t even know what you are to him, do you?” He dragged his eyes up to Thanos, then back to you. “You’re just another pretty little thing for him to fuck. When he’s bored of you, you’ll be nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus, Myung-Gi, do you ever stop talking?”

He smirked through the pain, wincing as he shifted onto his elbow. “You think this is love? That he’s your knight in shining armor?” He huffed. “What the fuck even is this? What are you to him? His whore?”

Thanos moved like he was going to hit him again, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest. You stepped closer to Myung-Gi, crouching down so you were level with him.

“You took his money,” you murmured, your voice eerily calm. “So he took your girlfriend.”

Myung-Gi’s swollen eyes flickered, his smirk faltering.

“And guess what?” You tilted your head, your lips curving into a slow, cruel smile. “He fucks me better than you ever fucking could.”

You patted his cheek—light, condescending. “Cry about it, Myung-Gi.”

[mediumgayitalian]

Plink.

“Psst, hey! Nico!”

Plink. Plink.

“Nico! You up?”

Plink.

Plink plink plink. Plink —

“What in the world,” Nico hisses, yanking open his window, “is going — oh.” He blinks. “Will?”

Will grins. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he says, voice not nearly quiet enough for someone who is at direct risk of being devoured. “Thought I’d drop by. Can I come in?”

If Nico were smart, he would say no, actually, it’s like four in the godsdamn morning, go the hell back to your cabin. What is wrong with you.

Instead, he says, “We live in the same neighbourhood, dweeb-face, this is a camp,” and opens his window all the way. Will grins at him, wide and glinting in the dark, and yanks himself in head-first, somersaulting onto the floor and staying there, sprawled on the polished marble floors.

“Hi,” he says again, grin shifting into something more crooked.

Nico breaks away, hiding a smile with rolled eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous to want to see you?”

“Before dawn? Yes!”

“Aw.” He settles against the ground, tucking his hands behind his head and letting half lidded eyes trace over Nico’s form, over the sleepy shape of him. Nico shivers. “I was awake, you know. I dreamt of you.”

Cool the fresh hell down, Nico screams at his brain. Out loud, he says, “Shut the fuck up,” and ignores Will’s snickering. How dare he, honestly. For someone who gets clowned as often as he does he is not nearly humble enough. Apollonian genes, indeed.

“What, you don’t dream of me?”

When Will lies, his throat swells up and he breaks out in hives. Nico is at the top of the leaderboard for getting the reaction out of him, with Cecil at a close second and Kayla no slouch in third place. Will is highly manipulable. It’s a good time for everyone around (even Chiron, who is, to his own irritation, lumbering behind at spot #42).

Nico, however, has no such holdups. Nor is he inclined, at any point in time, to fluff up Will’s ego, no matter how he looks when he’s cocky. Nico has self control. Mostly. (Well, at times.)

“Of course not. My subconscious would never do that to me.”

“You’re mean to me, di Angelo.”

“You like it.”

Nico watches, fascinated, as Will’s loudmouth snaps right shut; as his face burns sacred cow right in the low light of the cabin, as he squirms.

“Oh,” he says, gleefully.

“Can it, di Angelo —”

“Oh ho ho ho —”

“I’m gonna curse your ass with haiku disorder, do you know what that is, ‘cause I’ll show you, dickhead —”

Nico crouches down and pokes Will hard in the cheek, and he doesn’t even flinch — he just goes redder. Nico guffaws.

“Dude! Have some — dignity, oh my —”

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re so horrible, gods, I am leaving —”

“Oh, come here.” Will is dragged easily from the windowsill, because he is a big fat faker. There are actual claw marks on the infirmary door from the last time Austin brought Nyssa to drag him out.

“I don’t wanna stay where I’m unwanted,” he laments, bouncing on the bed when Nico shoves him. He takes the inch Nico gives him and burrows deeply under the blankets, throwing a melodramatic hand over his eyes. Nico rolls his own eyes, hoping if he rolls then hard enough Will can tell regardless of whether or not he’s looking, and crawls in after him. He makes sure to kick him at least thrice. “I can take a hint, you know.”

“Medical arts were the wrong career path for you. It’s not too late, you know. I’m sure you could shadow Nicholas Cage or something —”

“I am going to kill you with hammers —”

Nico evades gus clumsy attacks with ease, snickering as he pins him to the bed, smirking when he gives up fighting with a huff.

“I’m glad you came when you couldn’t sleep,” Nico says, after a moment for them to catch their breath. “But the point of that agreement is for you to then shut the fuck up and sleep. Here. So.”

“I’m trying,” Will grumbles. “But you’re being mean and it’s crushing my soul. How am I supposed to sleep with a crushed soul?”

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay! Put the pillow away, jeez, I’m sorry. Meanie.”

Nico rolls his eyes again, settling down next to him. Will takes longer to settle, because he’s annoying, but right before Nico is ready to smack the shit out of him again, he calms down, burrowing stilling once he’s turned on his side.

“…Thank you.”

“Whatever, goober. Go to sleep.”

The smile is obvious in his voice. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

“In the morning can we —”

“Goodnight, William.”

“Okay, okay. Night.” He pauses. “Love you.”

Nico shoved his grinning face into his pillow. “Love you too.”

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

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[no-144444]

injury causer- l.sargeant

Day 11 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: logan can't look where he's going, too bad he runs straight into you.

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You were the lead mechanic on the Andretti Indycar team. You dealt with Kyle Kirkwood and his massive ego all day, everyday. You could’ve sworn everyone hated him by the way he was looked at by other paddock employees. He was nice when the cameras were out but other than that? Asshole. 

You knelt down, trying to get a good look at the car when someone somehow didn’t see you, walked straight into you, kicking you directly in the stomach. 

“Fuck! Sorry!” he immediately rushed out, leaning down to help you out. 

“Watch where you’re going please?” you scoffed, standing up. Kyle laughed as he started sputtering through an apology. You knew who he was, he was Logan Sargeant, a fucking F1 driver. You didn’t care. You weren’t dealing with another asshole’s huge ego today, not that you thought Logan would have one, you knew what he was like, but then again, F1 can change people. You looked at Kyle, who subtly whispered to him to stop apologising. “Drivers aren’t the only people who make the sport happen, dickhead.”

He looked taken aback. “Come one Y/n, it was-”

 “I’m super sorry, I just… I didn’t realise where I was stepping. Sorry again,” Logan interjected. 

“Y/n, stop being a bitch alright?” Kyle scoffed, and you genuinely could’ve killed him. 

“Dude, that’s a dick move,” Logan turned to his friend with a look of disgust. “Apologise.”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to look shocked. “What do you mean?” he scoffed. 

“I mean apologise, you’re being an asshole,” Logan replied calmly. 

Kyle scoffed, which turned into a laugh. 

“I’ll cut your breaks,” you threatened, shutting him up. “And thank you Logan, but that’s alright. I don’t think the word ‘sorry’ is in his vocabulary.” 

Logan turned to Kyle again. “Dude, you’re being a dick. Apologise.”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, and walked off.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Logan sighed. “He can be-”

“An asshole all the time? Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “I'm sorry that you’re his friend.”

He chuckled. “He’s not that bad.”

“Trust me, he is.”

He smiled at you. Internally, he was losing it over the fact that you were standing in front of him, talking to him. He had basically been in love with you since you were both 15. You’d been Adrian Newey’s prodigy as you came up through the motorsports world, and after a bad crash you didn’t get back in the car. That meant you turned to understanding the car, how it worked, how to design one, how to make it safer, make it faster. You knew everything about Indycar, Formula 1, Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 4 cars. You had even designed some of the best karts in the world. You designed the Mclaren car this year, you’d conceptualised the rear-wing, you’d made it all happen for them, and now you were at Andretti, ready to make them winners. On top of that, you were designing for 6 of the 10 F1 teams, 1 of the 11 F2 teams, and 2 of the 10 F3 teams. Your resume was more than packed, but Logan liked you. You had always been kind to him. Coming up through the European side of motorsport, making friends wasn’t always easy. Yes, he had Oscar, but Oscar also had Zhou, Fred, Paul, and anyone else. Oscar was busy most of the time, so Logan would just hang around the paddock. That’s when he met you. You’d invite him to RedBull team stuff and you ended up spending a lot of time together. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he smiled. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you smiled back. “How’s Prema treating you?”

“Good. Better than Williams,” he shrugged. 

“I wanted to reach out after it happened but I think you changed your number,” you admitted. “You deserved so much more than that team. Everyone knows what a talented driver you are.”

He shrugged, his face heating up. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

“Well, it was nice to see you, I’d better get back to it-”

“Here’s my number,” he said, handing you a slip of paper. “I’d like you call me sometimes- I-I’d like to call sometimes- I like you, call me- I-”

“I like you too, and yes, I will call you ,” you chuckled, endeared by his embarrassing moment. 

He shook his head, drowning in embarrassment. He smiled and waved as you walked back to your desk, happy that, at the very least, he had your number.

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fic-tober masterlist

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[remuslupinslastbreathofair]

April 5 - Wolfsbane Potion

Prompt 5 @wolfstarmicrofic words: 620

Remus walked as quickly as his sore bones would allow. It was the full moon tonight so he was feeling groggy and agitated all at the same time. Still though, he put all the pain aside when he had heard news that Sirius was in the hospital wing. Lily hadn’t even had time to explain it to him fully before he was zipping down the corridor.

He walked through the doors and came face to face with Madame Pomfrey. The woman gave him a gentle smile. “Remus, is your hip bothering you again?”

Remus’ hip was in face bothering him from practically running over here, but that wasn’t the point. “No,” he said quickly, “I’m here to see Sirius.”

“Oh, yes. He’s on the bed in the far left. Silly boy was messing around with potions. If he knows what’s good for him he won’t be doing it again anytime soon.”

Sirius was messing with potions? Oh god, that was never good. Sirius was smart but he was reckless always thinking that he could push the boundaries of magic without any consequences.

Remus quickly pushed past her and drew back the curtain to reveal Sirius. He was lying in the bed with his eyes closed, bandages covering one side of his body.

The first thought that entered Remus’ mind was that he was unconscious, he rushed forward and shook Sirius.

“Jesus, that hurts wanker. I’m burnt,” Sirius groaned making Remus sigh in relief.

“Thank god, what happened to you? How did a potions go this bad?” Remus asked, exasperated as he sat on the end of the bed.

“I put too much mandrake leaf juice in, and it blew up.”

Remus had never heard of a potion blowing up this badly before.

“That must of been a complicated potion. You don’t need to be nearly killing yourself for a prank, Sirius. That’s stupid, even for you.”

“Ah, you underestimate me, Moony. I’ll do anything for the glory.”

Remus only rolled his eyes as a silence dragged out before them.

“Well…it wasn’t for a prank, so I think it was worth it.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me Sirius, what was worth nearly blowing off your head for.”

Sirius grinned sheepishly. “I was trying to figure out the missing ingredient for wolfsbane potion.”

Remus’ lips instantly pressed into a thin line before he burst out. “Sirius! You idiot! Do you know how dangerous that is, meddling with unfinished recipes. You could’ve died! You’re lucky you’ve only got a burn.”

Sirius stayed quiet, sensing that Remus was not done with his berating.

“You don’t need to do that, Sirius,” Remus said in a gentler tone. “You’ve already done enough for me, becoming an animagus and everything. You’ve risked your life enough.”

Sirius shook his defiantly. “Remus, I want to help you. It’s horrible what you have to deal with. Do you know how much this would help you? I’d do anything to make your transformations even slightly more bearable.”

Of course Remus knew what this potion meant. As if he hadn’t spent every minute of his free time in his first year reading as many books he could find on lycanthropy. Thinking that somehow in between the shelves and shelves of books he would find a cure or a treatment. Remus now knew that those were just prepubescent fantasies that could never come to fruition.

“You’re a bloody dickhead, y’know. Never do something like that again or I’ll hex you ten times worse,” Remus said putting a hand on Sirius’ knee and squeezing.

Sirius nodded but he couldn’t mask the slight smirk on his face. Remus got the feeling that he and Sirius would be spending plenty of more time here.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Okay, i know you have request closed but if i don’t write it down I’ll forget. First love your soldier boy dad writing! I have binged it all now! But what if soldier boys comes back and he realizes his baby needs him cause homelander is like freaky obsessed with her. And like she meets with homelander or something and HL hurts her so she runs to her dad cause he’s the only one that can really protect her and soldier boy gets so mad at HL

I'm a sucker for dad!soldier boy and soldier girl 😭

Suddenly

Warnings: homelander being a creep, reader devastated that he isn't the brother she grew up with, hl giving off incesty vibes, papa soldier boy coming back into the picture, this time he's not going to disappoint his baby girl, dark themes, you've been warned, homelander giving ick vibes, assault, fighting back

Time in Russia had Ben coming to terms with cold, hard truths. By now Payback was never going to rescue him. Not like he'd hoped. Maybe due to his personality being on the constant 'dickhead' switch, no one was really in a hurry to save him. There was no leaving Russia alive for him. Another painful fact. Nowhere near as agonizing than the fact he'd royally fucked up as a parent. He didn't spend the time he should have with you and Homelander. Soldier Boy regrets not using a softer tone and hand with Homelander when he was disciplining the boy. Shouldn't have shooed you out of the way when all you wanted to do was show him a fucking picture you'd drawn.

He replays the last time he saw his kids. Your birthday was coming up soon. Your 18th birthday, a milestone. Soldier boy would never consider himself a sentimental man, but something in his battle weathered heart thawed and warmed that his little girl wasn't so little anymore.

You never asked for anything for your birthday. The most Soldier Boy would do (if not given a hint from Homelander as to what you'd want) is give you money and maybe a doughnut in lieu of an actual birthday cake. Regardless of what Soldier Boy bought you, you always gave him a genuinely grateful smile, appreciating that he was performing the bare minimum. Homelander's gifts always blew whatever Soldier Boy gave you out of the park anyway. He was the one who really knew you.

It dawned on him that he shouldn't have relied so heavily on his son to care for you when Homelander was a child himself. The two of you ended up developing an unhealthy attachment. Moreso Homelander than you (Vogelbaum had brought this to his attention some years ago).

An 18th birthday was something to fucking party about though. When Payback's military grade helicopter landed in Nicaragua, Soldier Boy had been thinking about where he'd hidden your special present. For once he was excited about something that didn't involve killing or fucking.

"Hey, earth to Ben." Your voice catches him off guard, pulling him from his dark revere.

He's not in Russia anymore.

He's not even in the same year as he had been when abducted.

Ben stares at you for a moment. That vacant stare of his has you going on guard just in case something triggered his PTSD.

You're older than 18 now. A full grown woman standing in a rundown, shitty little motel kitchenette. The pan you were using was set aside and you turn off the burners of the stove before facing your dad.

"You good?"

Blinking once, Soldier Boy shakes off whatever spell was cast over him. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

You understood the moments of displacement you 'd feel when you realized your father was alive and right in front of you. He hadn't aged a single year since his supposed death that Stan Edgar convinced you happened. It was just so fucking weird.

"I was saying that I need to run out for an errand. Hughie and Butcher will be here if you need anything."

The usual Soldier Boy returns with a roll of his eyes. He exchanges a glance with Butcher who was intently watching Vought News in the armchair near the motel window. Butcher merely offers him a shrug.

You doubt he would actually need anything. The Boys hooked up your dad with several pounds of weed, alcohol and cigarettes that would last a normal person a lifetime. This was nothing to Soldier Boy. He would demolish it within a couple of days.

Hughie leans in to whisper in your ear "Are you sure you want to go back to Vought? Annie said she had everything under control over there."

Watching Soldier Boy eat his breakfast and taking a swig of some good old fashioned morning whiskey, you lower your voice so only Hughie could hear. "I love Annie and respect her, but I HIGHLY doubt even she has control in regards to Vought and the Seven."

Before leaving, you shoot the three of them a menacing look. "Behave. All of you."

You'd lied to Hughie though.

When Butcher returned from Russia with Soldier Boy and after the incident incident with Crimson Countess, you thought of the brother you used to know frequently. It wasn't long ago that Homelander had been your best friend. You hoped beyond all hope that you could bring that brother back.

You'd purchased a burner phone and, memorizing Homelander's personal number, called him. His immediate reaction was to curse you out, naturally. You let him before reminding him of the bond both of you built through years of surviving Soldier Boy's home together. Making something of yourselves without the looming shadow of your father. You'd told him that if there was any chance of reconciliation that he should meet you at a disclosed area. Just the both of you. There was guarded refusal. You could be luring him into a trap. Finish him off once and for all. And like the rest of the world, Homelander didn't believe you when you finally told him that Soldier Boy was alive.

That was enough for Homelander to agree.

One might consider you paranoid by the many times you'd looked over your shoulder as you flew to the top of Vought Tower. A semi-public place where if a struggle ensued, many people would be tipped off below. You'd also have more options of escape in the open air.

The door to the top of the roof opens. You stand taller and square your shoulders off.

Homelander lets the door fall closed behind him. His strides to you are slow and calculated, imitating a predatory animal circling a scrumptious morsel of meat. Blue eyes dart around you, assuring himself you didn't bring any unwelcome visitors.

"He's really alive?'' Was Homelander's greeting.

You toss him the cheap burner phone that was capable of taking subpar pictures. Homelander eyes you before leaning down to pick up the flip phone. His lower lid twitches when he makes out Soldier Boy in the picture sitting across from Butcher at some small table.

Adam's apple bobbing, Homelander's expression difficult to read. "How?"

"Apparently the Russians had him. Payback was working with them as well as Vought to get rid of Soldier Boy." Would he believe you?

Scoffing, he tosses back your phone but there's no point in keeping it anymore. You crush it in your grip, fingers opening to let the crumbled remnants be carried away by the wind.

"John, please. I miss my brother." The man in front of you was a stranger wearing your brother's face.

He tilts his chin up. "You're the one who ruined us. YOU fucked right off to join William Butcher and his band of miscreants. And its you who has no one to blame but yourself."

"John-"

He's fast, his hand inches away from grabbing your face before you dodge out of the way, deftly avoiding him. His temper has grown worse, you observe, since you left the Seven. Homelander was already on a rapid decline mentally after killing Madelyn Stillwell. Your abandonment was simply icing on top of the shitty cake.

You had to tread VERY lightly around him.

What was your aim for this interaction? Homelander would never leave Vought or the Seven nor would he want to join you and the other vigilantes. Hell, the Boys would never accept him.

You wanted to see for yourself if there was any piece left of your childhood within him.

Starting into his red rimmed eyes, you saw nothing of the boy who held your hand as the both of you crossed the street to get to school. He was gone.

"You" He points a red gloved finger in your direction "betrayed me."

He won't listen to reason.

"I didn't want to." You whisper, recalling the moments when Homelander actually made you feel unsafe just before you made the decision to leave. How he'd started to stare at you for an uncomfortably long time. His simple, innocent gestures and caresses were becoming. . . worrisome.

You'd thought it was just you imagining things. Homelander was just like that with you. He practically raised you after all. Homelander was the one to make your sack lunch for school. The one who got you ready, choosing your clothes for the day and braiding your hair.

His touches had changed though. They lingered and tightened on you, becoming possessive with each passing day since Stillwell's murder.

There was an instance when he'd captured your face in both his hands. You'd thought maybe there was something on your face, remnants of lunch, but no. He'd nearly kissed you full on the lips. For once you're grateful for the Deep popping up out of nowhere. It was the only thing that had Homelander dropping your face and returning to a semi-normal facade.

You see that Homelander right in front of you. The one that made your stomach curdle and goosebumps prickling upon your arms.

"I never thought you'd become an ungrateful bitch." With each step he took closer to you, you took another one back. "You're mine. You have always been mine from the moment Soldier Boy brought you home, you've been mine." His hands kept clenching up as if he was trying to will restraint in himself.

You're ready for a fight.

What you aren't ready for was Homelander being faster in grabbing your arms so you couldn't escape and smashing his lips against your's. You feel yourself scream as a struggle begins. He's trying to keep you in his arms, pull you down to the ground. His kiss turns aggressively desperate with teeth biting down on your lower lip when you try to turn your face away.

Heart rate freaking out, you go by pure animal instinct to get out of Homelander's hold. Your teeth sink down into his forearm, tearing cloth and skin alike. Letting out a howl, Homelander throws you to the ground, reeling back to examine the sizeable bite mark you gave him. He wasn't used to seeing his own blood.

He forgot that he should have been just as fearful of you as you were with him and his own powers.

The stickiness of his blood covers your mouth as you glare at him.

Since the brother you once loved was no longer present in Homelander, you weren't afraid anymore of pulling punches.

You stand up to your full height and feel the heat of your lasers burn in the back of your eyes.

Homelander seemed to match your feelings as his heated glare literally shines from his eyes. "I'm not letting you get away to go back to him."

"That's unfortunate. I've got no plans on staying here." You snarl and just as you levitate off of the ground, Homelander is grabbing you by the ankle and tries to slam you back down.

He could easily rip your leg off.

Your panicked jerking manages to free you from his grasp.

Like a bullet you take off across the sky. Looking back every so often just to make sure he wasn't following you. He wouldn't dare to make a scene where civilians can easily spy the both of you from the ground.

You're certain you've broken a few records by how fast you flew across the city to get back to the hideout.

Nearly ripping the motel door of it's hinges, you startle the men in there. Hughie gapes at the actual bruises developing on your face and the red smear across your mouth. Everything about you must have looked a horrifying mess.

Soldier Boy stands from where he'd been sitting on the bed. Eyes wide as he takes you in. "What the fuck happened to you?" He's the first one to take action and go to you.

Looking at him now, the feelings you'd tried pushing back start trickling forth. You realize Homelander had not just physically assaulted you, but it had nearly turned into a sexual assault too.

You damn the tears that well up your eyes, distorting the image of your father. "I. . . John. . ."

"John? John did this to you?" The words felt hollow coming out of his mouth as he stood in a daze. Homelander had harmed you? That didn't sound right. Then again, a lot had changed.

Mentioning Homelander's birth name caught the others' attention.

You touch your mouth where Homelander had kissed you. You realize the blood around your lips may not just be Homelander's blood. Where he'd bitten your lower lip is a tender gash that is also leaking red.

"Sit down. You're shaking." Soldier Boy, taking on the role of a caring father (and surprising everyone with his gentle tone) pushes past Butcher and Hughie who helplessly watch. Using your shoulders to guide you to the arm chair, your dad sits you down. He kneels in front of you to get a good look at the wounds all over you. "Tell me what he did."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you're focused on your hands and the specks of red on them. "He tried- I don't know. . . He. . ."

Gently, Soldier Boy uses his index finger to raise your face up. "Tell me, baby girl."

That got you. The tears were now freely rolling down your face when you meet similar blue eyes. "I wanted to see if there was anything left of the brother I knew." You whimper, voice warbling. "Dad. . . he didn't try to kill me. He tried doing something worse."

Ben's eyes widen, as if dots were being connected. His soft demeanor which he'd revealed just to you hardens into something ugly. You didn't like how quiet the motel room had become.

You flinch when Soldier Boy attempts to hug you. He stops and not wanting to upset you further, didn't try again. You're the one who wraps your arms around him.

Fiercely, Soldier Boy returns the embrace.

"I promise you, I won't ever let him lay a hand on you again." He feel his jaw tighten as he snarls out. "The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

[berryispunk]

What I Didn't Say

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

tags: mention of mental health struggles, depression, inner turmoil, comfort, fluff, Frankie being the best boyfriend ever, soft! Frankie

notes: This was written mostly for myself but if even one person finds comfort in this too, my job is done. unbeta'd

word count: 1,9 k

It is a regular Tuesday. Same process at work. Same dumb questions, same people. But something is off, something inside of you. Something buried so deep you’ve almost forgotten it was there yourself. But it’s crawled onto the surface slowly and gradually over the last few days, tinting everything darker, muting the colors around you. 

The signs have been there for a while now, building up one by one. You should have known better, but you decided to ignore them all instead.

Throwing yourself into work, listening to music on your earphones constantly. Never a minute alone with your own thoughts, too afraid of what they might reveal.  

It makes you feel heavy, slowed down and every day feels endless. 

Tasks you’re usually able to solve in minutes drag on for hours. 

You feel numb, dissociated and irritated and after a while you aren’t able to lie to yourself anymore. 

Your unpleasant visitor inside your mind unpacked their baggage once again, making themself comfortable in your brain and wouldn’t check out any time soon.

When it is finally time to go home after work you feel particularly drained and still the thought of returning home to your tiny apartment, which mirrored your inner mess perfectly at the moment, makes you feel even more uneasy.

So you drive around the city for a while with no real destination in mind. 

Your window is pulled down, the cool evening air a welcoming distraction to your whirlwind of thoughts. Your mind wanders around, not able to form a clear thought, too many voices but still feeling utterly alone, as alone as ever. Isolated even if you’re not. 

You have friends, colleagues and a loving boyfriend but you feel miles apart from all of them. Nobody is able to understand your pain and you are too tired to explain. It’s not that you haven’t thought about opening up to someone, you have. But how can you explain this big sadness inside of you when you don’t know how to put it into words?

After a while your bluetooth speakerphone ringing brings you back to the present and without even knowing, or caring who’s on the other end of the line, you pick up. 

“Hello ?”

“Hey beautiful,” the voice on the other end is rich and warm, making you smile for the first time today. It is your boyfriend, Frankie. 

“Hey… Sorry I didn’t call you earlier, I-uh…was busy,” you try to lie, masking your inner turmoil. But he knows you better or at least he knows something is off.

“You’re not at home, are you?” he asks, a hint of doubt in his tone.

“No, I'm still driving. Why?”

There’s a deep, rumbling laugh on the other end.

“Well, I am in front of your apartment door and nobody’s opening, so safe to say no one’s home…”

Your first instinct is to ask why the hell he’s standing at your apartment door without telling you first, but then you remember that’s just who Frankie is. He always lets actions speak louder than words. Showing up when you least expect it is just one part of the Morales package. He’s a rare gem in the world of macho-dickheads. Sometimes you still wonder what he sees in you out of all the people he possibly could be with? But you count your blessings every day. 

“I’ll come home now. Give me about -” you glance at the digital clock in your car dashboard. “15 minutes,” you add and he hums in agreement before you hang up. 

Honestly you’re not in the mood for small talk or any other form of human interaction in general, but you’ve been avoiding Frankie for a few days now. Mostly for selfish reasons but also because you don’t want to drag him down into your abyss. So you decide to dive in head first.

15 minutes later on the dot you kill the motor in front of your apartment complex, making your way up to the third floor with heavy steps. 

You can’t shake the tiredness. It still lingers even when your heart flutters in your chest as soon as you spot Frankie leaning against the wall next to your front door. 

His signature cap worn deep, his arms crossed over his chest, making him look as broad as ever and whistling some type of melody to himself. 

The moment he spots you his whole face lights up, his eyes crinkling and his face so full of genuine joy from just looking at you, it makes you feel incredibly guilty for not wanting to see him just seconds ago. 

He steps towards you, his smile only widening and making your stomach do somersaults.  

He wraps his arms around your waist and dips his head to kiss your cheek, the visor of his cap touching your temple. 

“Sorry you had to wait for so long… I–,” you contemplate telling him the whole truth, but decide against it, not wanting to drag his mood down too. 

“Work was a lot,” you lie again and he just shakes his head. 

“‘s alright, I don’t mind. I mean, I could’ve at least texted you beforehand, but where’s the surprise in that?” He laughs as you fumble with your keys to let you both inside. 

It just dawned on you that your place isn’t particularly tidy right now and you feel heat creeping up at your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Sorry.. Didn’t have time to tidy up. I know it’s a mess…,” you sigh as you let your bag slump to the ground and kick off your shoes, trying hard to not let him feel how disappointed you are in yourself, but Frankie doesn’t say a thing. 

He just kicks off his shoes as well and places the plastic back he was holding onto the kitchen counter. 

“I brought some Chinese take-out,” he says, making it sound like the most obvious thing to do when really it‘s not. You’re not used to this kind of attention and it makes you feel all the emotions. Mostly good ones of course, but it also makes you question if you’re able to give him the same amount back or if you’re losing in the girlfriend department, especially in the last few weeks.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, the words coming out quicker than your mind has time to process it.

“Do what?”

“This,” you point to the bag of food he’s just about to unpack and he stills his movements.

“I thought you like Chinese…” he says, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I do, it’s just.. You could’ve texted first, you know,” you say irritated, regretting your harsh voice immediately as you see his shoulders sag slightly.

“I am sorry, it’s just–” he trails off, rubbing his neck sheepishly. 

“I had the feeling something was off and you‘ve been kinda short and snippy in the last few days. I just wanted to check on you and… “ A short breath. “I’m sorry if I overstepped or anything I’m just, argh, I don’t know… Worried?”

His rumbling speech leaves you speechless for a moment. Too much to unpack for your depressed mind. You slump onto the stool next to your kitchen counter, running a hand through your hair. You should’ve known he noticed your change, he’s a really attentive person after all.

“I am sorry, Frankie,” you simply say and you mean it but the words have greater meaning than just an apology for your behavior.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you and it doesn’t ease your mind in the slightest. It makes you feel even worse instead. 

You don’t know how to bring this up because you’re not good at communicating your feelings, you never learned how. So you say nothing in return and the silence is deafening. 

You feel his big hands gently caressing your arms and it almost causes you to sob, the gentleness of his touch unlike everything else. 

“Please, talk to me,” he simply states, his soft brown eyes searching yours and you can’t stand it any longer so you rise up from your seat and wrap your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his chest. 

“I’m not good at this, Frankie… I wish I would be but I am not. I‘m a mess, simple as that,” you mumble against his shirt, your voice muffled by the fabric. 

He stays silent for a moment, his hand crawling the back of your head before he murmurs against your hair, “It’s okay… You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. I’m here, even if you don’t wanna talk at all. That’s also fine with me.” 

The tears prick hotly in the corners of your eyes, his voice like a balm for your troubled mind but it doesn’t stop your inner world from colliding. He should run as long as he has the chance, find someone better that isn’t as broken and as complicated as you are. The next words start to bubble up before you have the chance to stop them.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away in the past weeks. It’s just my default response, you know. Didn’t want to burden you with my shit.”

“You don’t have to carry this alone, lemme’ take some of that weight off you, okay?” He reasons softly with you, his hand still cradling the back of your head gently, placing a soft kiss on top of your hair. 

“I don’t know how.. Everytime I tried to share my darkness with someone, they left. I’m scared to lose you too, because you–” The following words are chocked. “You are the best thing I‘ve ever had and I really don’t wanna fuck this up,” you admit. 

“You won’t lose me just because you have some demons to face, beautiful. We all have, believe me I do too. It’s getting easier once you’re able to talk about it, I promise. I am here to stay, okay?” he lifts your head gently from his chest, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones and the honesty of his words are written all over his face. 

You nod as he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment on your skin. 

“Let me in, okay? That’s all I ask. We figure out the rest as we go…” 

“Okay,” you ultimately answer, your voice strained with barely contained emotions. 

“But don’t say I didn’t warn you, yeah?” 

“I served in the army. Nothing scares me off that easily, believe me,” he chuckles deeply before he lets go of your head to get some silverware. “Let’s eat something, okay? And afterwards we can watch a movie you like.” 

“Even a cheesy romance movie?” you retort with a smirk as you take a seat on the kitchen stool once again. 

“Even a cheesy, cringey romance movie if that lifts your spirits. But you have to let me make some live commentary at least…” he grins as he places some fried chicken and noodles on your plate first, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Which for him, it might be. 

“Deal,” you say as you start munching on some of the food, watching him put some Chinese food on his own plate. “Thank you,” you murmur and words aren’t enough to express how much you mean it. 

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs it off while taking a seat next to you. 

“Wrong, it’s everything,” you answer and he holds your gaze for a long moment before he smiles warmly and starts eating.

And for the first time in a while you feel like maybe happiness is in reach again.

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[writemekpop]

Birthday Boy | Huang Renjun

Summary: It's Renjun's birthday and all you want is a moment alone, but other people keep getting in the way...

Genre: College AU, fluff, feat bad boy Jeno

Word Count: 1k

“We haven’t kissed in ages…” you groaned, looking up at your boyfriend Renjun’s perfect pink lips. 

He chuckled. “It’s literally the middle of my birthday party.” He smirked. “And we kissed yesterday!” 

“Let’s make out after?” you asked. 

But Renjun didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on the doorway. The muscles in his neck went stiff. 

You looked to the door, and felt your throat tighten.

Hands in pockets, wearing his typical victorious smirk, was Lee Jeno. From the shade of his face, he was clearly drunk. 

Your breaths started to grow shorter.  

“I told my friends not to let him in!” Renjun said. “I won’t let him near you, okay?”

You forced yourself to calm down. “No. Hey, I’ll just… avoid him, okay? I’m not letting this ruin your birthday.”

Renjun crossed his arms, but said nothing. 

Of course, there was no ‘avoiding’ Lee Jeno.

Last year, when Jeno had been stalking you, he had been impossible to ignore. He filled up your phone with nudes, he told everyone in college you guys had slept together – he just couldn’t accept you weren’t into him. 

Jeno swaggered over. If possible, he had grown even taller. He was so muscly he looked like a uni student – not an eighteen-year-old. “I have a question for Y/n,” Jeno boomed. Renjun stepped forwards. “She doesn’t have to answer you.”

“No. It’s fine,” you said, your face cool.

Jeno grinned. “I was wondering… isn’t whore like… a compliment these days?”

“Shut up,” Renjun said, between his teeth. 

You placed a hand on Renjun’s shoulder, willing him to calm down. “Is dickhead a compliment?” you shot back. 

You could feel Renjun’s whole body quivering beneath your hand – a powder keg waiting to explode. 

Jeno laughed. “I dunno, I just thought it was cool for girls to be slutty nowadays.” He looked back at his two idiot friends. “Good for you, seeing as you’re the sluttiest girl in college.” The guys guffawed, and you just rolled your eyes.

You tugged Renjun away. “Just ignore him,” you said. 

Renjun’s hands were clenched into fists. “How can you just- ignore that? That was fricking unacceptable.” 

You shrugged. “I’m used-“

Renjun interrupted you. “And don’t you dare say you’re used to it!” Renjun glanced back fast. “I’ve had enough. I’m going to kick Jeno out, now.”

Renjun started marching towards Jeno’s group of friends, but you placed yourself in his way. 

Jeno was huge – and he loved to show his strength off. If it got to a fight, Renjun didn’t stand a chance. 

“Babe. You’re amazing, but honestly, he is going to kill you,” you said, your voice shaking. Renjun sighed. “If I tell him to go, he’ll go.”  “No!” you said, forcing Renjun to grind to a halt, your arms straining against his shoulders. “You’re imagining that Jeno’s a normal human being! He’s not! He’s a- a- beast!” 

“When I think- about what he did to you…” Renjun said, shaking his head. “I wish I could have been there for you.” You felt warm. When you first told Renjun about what happened last year, he just laid his head in your lap and said nothing, letting you sob into his soft hair. 

Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Well, I can do something for you now.” 

He stormed up to Jeno. “Get the fuck out of my house! You’re never seeing Y/n again!”  

Somehow, the two boys were in the centre of the room, everyone forming a thrilled circle around them. 

People were chanting, “Fight, fight, fight!” a cry that grew louder and louder until it was like one long babble of voices. 

Jeno pushed Renjun, grinning. “What you gonna do, eh?” Renjun narrowed his eyes, and shoved Jeno back, harder.

Jeno bristled, as if he hadn’t been expecting Renjun to fight back. “What… did you… just do?” he thundered. 

You raised your voice. “Nothing, Jeno, he didn’t mean it!” It was almost impossible to hear you over the crowd. “Let’s just talk, okay?” 

Jeno did not wait to talk. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fist back and landed a brutal punch on Renjun’s nose. 

All you saw was Renjun staggering back, clutching his face, before the crowd swelled over the two boys, pushing them apart. 

A few moments later, Renjun was sitting in the kitchen, leaning his head back as he waited for his nose to stop bleeding. When he heard you come in, he tried to smile, but let out a groan at the pain. 

“Why did you have to do that?” you said, hugging him around his stomach. 

“I would do it again,” Renjun said bravely. 

You laughed. “Thanks, but I don’t think you getting your nose broken is that helpful for me.”    

“Shut up!” Renjun said, and then sighed. “I just- I just wish Jeno could get the punishment he deserves. Coz he won’t, you know. He’ll get away scot-free.” 

You nodded. “I know. I wanted to kill him for most of the past year. I still do, to be honest.” You rested your head against Renjun’s chest. “But I just think… Jeno has nothing in his life. And I have you. I think I’m winning.” Renjun smiled. “That’s so soppy I’m gonna be sick.” You grinned, pressing kisses to his neck, his shoulder, his cheek. “You love it! You love it when I’m soppy! I know the tru-uth….”  

“No I don’t! Get off me, nerd!” Renjun said, laughing. “Laughing hurts so much – but I – can’t stop-“ he whined. Renjun sat back up, his nose bleed over. 

You spoke against his neck. “Do you promise not to try and punch anymore rugby lads?”

Renjun twisted his lip. “Oh, alright. I’m really bad at fighting, anyway. But, Y/n… if I can’t punch the guy, what can I do to make it better?”

“I can think of one way you can make it better,” you whispered. “You could give me that kiss now…” Renjun blushed violently. It was so sweet how your boyfriend still got flustered whenever you kissed, even though you’d been dating for months. 

Still, Renjun looked right and left, then leaned cautiously in, his hand twining into your hair. He kissed you, and you let your eyes slip shut, savouring the feeling of Renjun’s lips, soft and yet insistent. 

Your boyfriend could be seriously hot headed. 

But at least he was a good kisser.  

—

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[webdrivetorse]

Evening Bike Ride

Summary: Jason and You stop Ivy from killing a dumbass only for you to get a facefull of sex pollen

Pairing: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Fem!reader

Warnings: Bike sex, teasing, overstimulation, over the clothes orgasm, light oral (f receiving) kinda/sorta publix sex, sex pollen, batcave sex, unprotected sex, p in v

MDNI 18+

Oh, you were so pissed.  

You and Jason had to stop Poison Ivy from killing some dickhead who decided it was a good idea to set off fireworks in central park for their gender reveal party; only for the grass and trees to set fire. You and Jason were able to hold her off while the cops arrested the couple for property damage (and for setting off fireworks without a permit), and in return, Ivy would spray you (and only you) with her stupid sex pollen as she ran off. 

And, of course, neither you nor Jason had the antidote. You collapsed to your knees and punched the grass, hoping she would feel it somehow. Jason was able to scoop you up and wave off the paramedics.  

Then it started to kick in.  

The fever, the heat going to your core, your muscles tightening, the flush across your face, your eyes blowing out, the goosebumps trailing throughout your body. And Jason’s hands under your exposed thighs were not helping.  

“We gotta head to the cave...on the bike...” Jason trailed off upon the realization.  

Ah, yes. The bike. The bike that vibrated. The bike you had to straddle. The bike you had to sit in front of Jason because you were too small to reach around his waist to stay on the bike. The second the bike turned on, you immediately started crumbling. Jason lowered himself to your ear.  

“Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll make this quick.”  

“Wouldn’t be your first time.” You joked.  

Oh, that wasn’t the right thing to say.  

Jason’s chuckle was low and in his throat as he revved the bike. Causing you to audibly moan and grip onto the front of the bike. You legs gripped the sides.  

Oh, you were probably gonna pay for that.  

As he flew through the streets, the vibration was only getting more intense on your clit. Your suit barely acting as a buffer. The vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You tried to control yourself, stop yourself from grinding on the bike. Jason’s hand was rubbing on your thigh, only pushing you closer to the edge. Jason could tell, he could tell by the way your back was arching, causing your ass to graze his clothed cock. The way, your shoulders were tightening. Your breathing was hitching.  

“You better not make a mess on my bike, doll.” He warned. At some point he took off his muzzle, his breath was now in your ear and you moaned again as he weaved through traffic. Barely stopping at red lights or stop signs. At the one stop light he did pause, it was thankfully empty. Jason wrapped his arm around your waist and pushed your back to meet his fully hard cock rut against your ass. You were dangerously close.  

One more rev of the bike before he pushed off and that was it. You bucked back, your knees spreading out. 

Orgasm #1.  

You wailed and tried to stop yourself from collapsing forward, best not to smack your head on the speedometer. You started grinding on the bike now, riding out your orgasm. You felt a small puddle on the seat; your cum quickly dripping down your thighs from the wind.  

“What did I tell you.” Jason’s breath was in your ear again. “Dirty girl, making a mess.”  

You whine. The heat in your core wasn’t going away; you kept grinding on the bike, your ass grinding on him, too. You looked up at the street signs. You were nowhere near the batcave.  

“Y-you’re not going to the cave, aren’t you?” You accuse.  

“No, no, we are, Doll. We’re just takin’ the scenic route.” He grinds against your ass as he takes a steep turn. Causing your clit to dig into the vibration of the bike. You moan even louder. You blush as you notice some of the civilians’ heads turning towards you.  

“Jason...you’re not helping...” You whine.  

His hand creeps into the inside of your thigh. “What are you talking about? I’m going as fast as I can, Babe.”  

Another stop sign.  

A breathy kiss to your neck. You arch against him again; pushing your clit harder against the seat; tingle shooting up your spin. He chuckles.  

Your eyes start to roll back, you head resting on his shoulder. “J..Jason.”  

He’s rubbing circle on the inside of your thigh, smearing your slick and getting closer and closer to touching you.  

Red light.  

You stop grinding, there’s cars around you. People are walking the crosswalk. Jason gets in your ear. “Now what was that about me being too quick?”  

“D..don’t you dare...” But you definitely want him to. You need him to.  

His fingers brush on your clit; press onto it.  

Orgasm #2.  

You put your hand over your mouth and drop your head to prevent another yell. Doesn’t stop you from bucking forward into his hand. You feel the tears prick in your eyes.  

“Look at all this...” He whispers as he continues to smear your slick across your thighs. “Who’s gonna clean this all up?”  

You’re trembling at this point, your eyes rolling back as your ass was now on his clothed dick. He groaned in your ear, grinding forward. You grab his wrist and push his fingers harder onto your clit. Another rev of the bike. Another fight to stop the moan.  

He kicked off. You’re gasping; grinding back on him.  

“You’re not making this easier for yourself, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away and you whimper, your own hand reaching for your clit.  

He grabs your wrist this time. “Nuh, uh. There are still people who might see.”  

Oh now he cares.  

He cuts through an alleyway. The bike stops, engine still on, and his hand is now running down your exposed back. You moan, way too loud at his touch. Only for him to grab your hips and shove you forward on the fuel tank, where the vibrations were the strongest. The heat from it giving a delicious pain that made you see stars. His clothed dick grinding on your ass. You were babbling now, whimpering, crying, grinding back desperately. You wanted him inside you now.  

“Jason...please.” You begged as you grinded down hard on his dick. Instead he pressed his fingers through your suit teasing your entrance and rubbed up and down.  

Orgasm #3.  

Your legs twitched as your threw your head back in another wail. You felt him leave your backside, only to be replaced by his tongue lapping at your slick through your clothes. A long swipe on his tongue against your entrance.  

Orgasm #4. 

You pushed back against his mouth, still grinding on the engine. The overstimulation making your whole body reacted violently and you were crying out his name; echoing throughout the alleyway.  

He was back on the bike, revving it as he slid you back down on the seat. He grabbed your chin and turned your head back to kiss him; tasting yourself.  

“Almost there, babe.”  

You were already there. And beyond.  

When you finally pulled into the cave, you were still aching; craving. You needed him inside you. He stopped at the darkest part of the cave, where the cameras didn’t reach. He attempted to turn off the bike only for your to grab his wrist immediately. Silently begging him to keep it on. Keep the vibration on your overstimulated clit. He chuckles and leaves it on. Leaves you on the bike while he goes and grabs the antidote with a kiss to your forehead.  

“Don’t have too much fun.” He teases.  

Your grinding on the bike again. The echos of the bike drowning out the moans in the cave. Your body is hot, you start removing your sticky suit. Exposing your breasts; your nipples hard and hot. Just as you’re about to pull your pants down, Jason returns; grabs you by the chin and pulls your head up to reach the antidote to drink.  

You gasp as it slides down your throat; you wishing it was his cum.  

“Give it a second.” His voice is tender, hand now cradling your check. You whine. “I know, babe. I know.”  

“I still want you...” You say breathlessly.  

You feel the fever subside, you feel your body coming down. The ache still there but not as intense. You’re starting to feel the exhaustion from the previous orgasms. You sigh as you pull yourself off the bike.  

“There we go. Let’s get you-.” He tried to pull your suit up but you stop him.  

“Jason, I still want you.” You repeat as you turn around and pull down the remainder of your suit. You lean on the bike, exposing your bare, wet cunt to him.  

“Jesus, baby...” His voice is barely above a whisper. He looks back down the cave, making sure no one was near the entrance or could even possibly see you two. He then quickly undoes his belt and unzips his pants, pulling his hard cock out. You turn around to see it and smile deviously; seeing the precum glint from cave’s dim light.  

He grabs your hips and slowly pushes into you. You gasp, gripping onto the wet seat on his bike.  

“Oh, fuck. You’re se wet.” He swears. “Goddamn, baby.”  

His hips snap forward, a loud slap echoes. Only to be drowned out by the bike, still on. Your back arches; he swears and starts ramming into you. Your cum slipping down your thighs and splashing back against him.  

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” He chants. “So tight...so fuckin tight.”  

He hits your cervix and you’re seeing stars again. “T-there! Theretherethere.”  

“Right here?” He asks as he slams into you, hitting that spot over and over and over again. He reaches forward and grabs onto your hair. “Just like that, doll?”  

“Yuh-yes! Yes, please.” You beg as your legs spread wider in an attempt to stop the trembling. You push back onto him and sync into motion with his thrusts. Your cunt tightening around him; still dripping.  

He curses as he drops forward, his chest to your back and he continues his ruthless thrusts. “Keep gripin’ me jus’ like that, angel, jus like-.”  

Orgasm #5 hits and hits hard.  

You scream as you slam back onto him, he juts forward as his hands are now next to yours on the wet seat of the bike as he growls in your ears, still brutalizing your cunt with his violent thrusts. Your head goes back, your body spasming as your hands ball up into fists.  

“Fuuuck, baby.” He growls with a few more thrusts; he finishes inside you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder. You moan at the pain.  

You both stand there for a second, trembling; gasping.  

He pulls out of you after a moment, grabbing a rag from his pouch on the bike and wiping your down before pulling your suit back up to cover you up. You crash down against the bike; Jason crashes next to you, reaching up to finally turn off the bike. You rest your head on his shoulder, he rests his head on yours.  

“How was that for too quick?” He jokes. 

You hum, “Could still add a few more seconds.”  

“Oh, come on.” 

You both laugh, laying there for a few more minutes in the glow of the cave.  

/// 

A few days later, you’d catch Jason’s nose on the bike seat, still trying to see if he can smell you. He didn’t want that to fade away anytime soon.  

>>>>>>>>

A/n: thank you guys for reading lol hope you enjoy it! Trying to think of other fics to write so it yall got any ideas lemme know lol