#dude looks like he wants to die faster

[spampai]

Day 5

Melvin, leave your future self alone.

He’s tryna sleep-

[cherryrikis]

EVERYTHING BUT NOTHING

PAIRING football captain bf jake x fem reader

WARNINGS swearing, arguments, jake makes a singular joke about killing himself

GENRE angst

SYNOPSIS jake is just the nicest guy, everyone knows that. and he’s even sweeter as a boyfriend rather than an acquaintance. even after an argument, you could never stay mad at him for long. but you question that when you hear him talking about you after school.

read part 2 here ?

“are you gonna talk to jake? i know that argument was pretty intense, but you’ve gone a week with no contact.” yuna asked as she tilted her head, standing by your locker while she waited for you to grab your belongings.

“eventually, yeah. i was thinking today after school. the thing with jake though, he either shuts down, or acts like it never happened whenever i want to talk about an argument.” you sighed.

it’s true. as open as jake may appear to be, it’s all but factual. you could never have a real talk with your boyfriend, because he hated confrontation. avoided it entirely.

typically, you don’t let arguments get in the way of your relationship. especially since living together is hard if you’re having frequent conflicts. it wasn’t too much of a problem now though, since he’s been staying at jay’s. but when you brought up the fact that he’s been spending too much time at practice, and that he always forgets your dates, jake let it all out.

it shouldn’t have been as big of a problem as it was. you just wanted to talk. but he finally argued back.

“i get it. sohee is exactly the same! don’t stress though. i know jake is a good guy, he’ll come around.” she smiled. “now let’s go to class? passing period is almost over, and yizhuo has been saving our seats.”

the lecture seemed to go by faster than usual. you were nervous as you steadily approached jake’s locker, which was directly outside his last class.

but when you heard his oh too familiar voice, you stopped in your tracks. you felt your heart sink to the floor as your stomach dropped.

“god. guys, don’t ever get a girlfriend. i’m bounded to long walks on the beach and dinner dates till i die. y/n’s demanding too much of me. i might just kill myself one day.” jake sighed.

“okay but dude, your girlfriends cool and all yet she’s lowkey uptight.” you heard heeseung say as he slapped jake’s shoulder.

“yeah man, you’ve been missing too much practice for your dates now. coach is getting upset. i saw yours and y/n’s texts the other day, and she micromanages you a lot. blink twice if you need help.” sunghoon joked as the three of them laughed out loud.

“i know, i know. i love y/n, but i cannot with her lately. thank god jay let me crash at his after the argument, because i couldn’t live with her constant nagging. she’s so fucking annoying.” he snickered. but, all their faces fell once they saw you.

you slammed jake’s locker door shut with so much force, your hand turned bright red. him and sunghoon flinched harshly, while heeseung and jay had no reaction.

your face ran hot, you felt it as you tightly closed your eyes, holding back the urge to burst out crying. the glass tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

but one look at his desperate eyes filled with regret, and you tipped over the edge. your salty tears spilled out, past your lashes.

you sniffled as you continued to cry uncontrollably, staring at their flustered faces. jake reached out to wipe your face, but you pushed his hand away, wiping the tears yourself.

“you fucking asshole.” you whispered. “i came here to apologize. but you can’t leave it be.”

“y/n..” his eyes softened, voice faltering as his words were laced with regret and shame. he reached out for you once more, but you stepped back.

the distance between you two physically and emotionally only continued to grow. “baby, just let me talk. like you wanted.” he pleaded, begging, almost.

“i.. hate you.. how could you ever talk about me like that? i never once would even think about saying something like that about you, like you did me.” you scoffed, looking behind him as you finally realized his friends left the scene.

you watched as his eyes watered, with one last attempt of trying to reach you. but he knew you were untouchable in this moment.

“sweetheart?” he watched as you began to walk backwards, away from him.

but you didn’t let up, still hurt. you shook your head, silently telling him no.

with every step you took backwards, jake moved forward, before finally grabbing your wrists tightly so you can’t leave him.

“it costs nothing to be a sweet guy, like the version everyone sees of you. but it takes everything to be an asshole.” you mumble, before pushing him away, finally and surely leaving out the school’s glass doors.

and jake remained there, his regret suddenly transferred into anger. he kicked his locker, watching the metal rattle.

he hated how his such childish and immature words cost nothing yet everything.

“fuck..” he muttered.

“fuck!” jake said once more, but louder, yelling it out loud.

he watched out the window as you walked towards the parking lot, before getting into your car and leaving without a second thought.

“please don’t leave me.” he whispered as his vision turned blurry.

“please don’t leave me..”

[sightseertrespasser]

Trying out a new method of story sharing.

Set in @keferon’s mecha AU sometime after Prowl and Swerve get rescued.

Sunny Side Screw-up

———————————————————————

Incoming communications…

BLUESTREAK: [Prowl.]

BLUESTREAK: [Prowl.]

BLUESTREAK: [Prowl do humans circle each other as a greeting.]

BLUESTREAK: [Is circling a sign of friendship or a threat time sensitive question please respond.]

PROWL: [What is going on? I need more information.]

PROWL: [Jazz says “Circling is not a sign of friendship but if you’re in Alt mode you’re fine, they’re just checking you out.”]

BLUESTREAK: [Not in Alt mode. Not in Alt mode.]

BLUESTREAK: [Oh Primus they’re getting closer.]

PROWL: [Where are you? The connection is weak, Bluestreak I need more information.]

BLUESTREAK: [So I got the short range shuttle like you asked and I was bringing it down onto the planet when a Quintesson rift opened up. And. A. BIG one latched onto the shuttle so I performed an emergenc-eeee they are getting very close now.]

PROWL: [Bluestreak? Are you under attack?]

BLUESTREAK: [I don’t know!]

BLUESTREAK: [Shuttle landed. Angry Quint. I couldn’t let them destroy the ship so I got its attention and drove away. The new quints they’re sending to Earth are MUCH faster then the normal ones by the way because I could not get enough distance ahead of it to get a safe shot but I had to TRY you know? So I went back into root mode and then it was ON me and I thought I was going to die and there was so much dust and then these two HUGE mecha came out of nowhere and RIPPED the quint apart like they were fighting over it.]

BLUESTREAK: [And now they’re looking at me! And I lost track of where the shuttle is. And the only English words I know are swear words so PLEASE HELP ME.]

PROWL: [Wait a moment. Jazz wants to try something.]

BLUESTREAK: [Wait?! Now? Prowl I think they’re sniffing me! Are they sniffing me? Is sniffing a sign of friendship? Can humans smell fear?]

PROWL: [ Blue! Can ya hear me?]

BLUESTREAK: [What? Yes I can still hear you.]

BLUESTREAK: [Wait is that Jazz?]

PROWL: [Bluestreak focus. We need to know who is with you, describe them as best you can.]

BLUESTREAK: [Oh that is so weird. Okay. Got it. There’s two of them, they’re both bigger than me, they look like fronliners, one’s red and the others yellow? I think? They’re both caked in dirt and gorAGH!]

PROWL: [Bluestreak!]

BLUESTREAK: [I’m fine! I’m fine! One of them got behind me and touched my doorwing. They backed off a little after I jumped.]

PROWL: [You’re not near any cities right?]

BLUESTREAK: [Yes! Or I guess no? I’m not anywhere near any sort of civilization. It’s basically nothing but desert, a slaughtered quint and two extremely intimidating mecha.]

PROWL: [Good news! Sounds like you ran into the twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe! They’re a couple of Hunter Class mecha, they deal with Quints loose in mostly uninhabited areas. Basically bounty hunters who don’t work directly for Shockwave. They’re apart of another mecha program stationed in Europe that drop them off in a region for a week to kill everything in the vicinity.]

BLUESTREAK: [Great! Good! Now what do I do now? One of them is sniffing me again and the other looks like he wants to grab my face.]

PROWL: [They’re not sniffing you dude, they’re probably trying to check for damage and figure out what you’re supposed to be. Hunter Class don’t have external speakers which is why they haven’t said anything out loud. They’ve probably tried to radio to you to talk to you but obviously that ain’t happening.]

BLUESTREAK: [ The yellow one is poking me again! And the red one keeps waving?]

PROWL: [To them you appear as an unfamiliar Mecha of unclear purpose, with limited means of communication and looking rattled by both the quintesson attack and their presence. There is a 67% possibility you will be able to convince them you are a test pilot of an experimental mecha.]

PROWL: [Here’s what you need to do. Lean into the nervousness but try to focus it on the quint, not them. Try saying “Grazie” or “Thank you”. If you seem grateful and relieved that should instill a sense that they’re protecting you and supposed to be doing that. Technically they did just save your ass so you just gotta re-enforce that idea.]

BLUESTREAK: [I’ll try.]

BLUESTREAK: [I think it’s working? I’m kind of just rambling and pointing but their postures changed. Oh wow they’re even bigger when they stand up straight. How in the Pit is this working.]

PROWL: [Humans are hard wired to take queues from other people. It’s not like, mind control or anything but it’s really strong stuff. Shit man, 90% of the reason I stayed so calm while stuck in space was because Prowl stayed calm.]

PROWL: [Externally. And 82%.]

BLUESTREAK: [They’re walking off now. I can-]

BLUESTREAK: [They’re waving for me to follow now? What do I do?]

PROWL: [Shit.. I was worried about that.]

BLUESTREAK: [Please do not say that without elaborating.]

PROWL: [They either believe you are here to help them hunt, odds at 45%. Or they’ve decided the area is unsafe for you to travel alone, odds 74%. Possibly both.]

PROWL: [Bad news, either way you’re probably in the middle of a feral quint infestation. Good news, you’ve got a couple of scary ass bodyguards! Really bad news, those body guards think you’re a human pilot in a mecha.]

BLUESTREAK: [Why is that worse than “surrounded by feral quintessons”?]

PROWL: [Because if you get hurt, or visibly express that you’re in significant pain, the twins might try to perform an emergency extraction to save the “pilot”.]

BLUESTREAK: [Oh.]

BLUESTREAK: [Oh no.]

BLUESTREAK: [They don’t have alt modes though. I can get away from them right? Prowl please tell me my odds are good.]

PROWL: [There is a 70% they won’t pursue you if you did leave. However you are far more likely to die to quintessons while trying to locate the shuttle than if you temporarily accept protection from the twins.]

PROWL: [Besides, Hunter Mecha are built to be endurance predators. You will run out of fuel before they stop chasing you.]

BLUESTREAK: [So what you’re saying is that if I show any weakness an inescapable giant terrifying killing machine will run me to exhaustion and then rip out my still spinning spark? Oh no. Sorry. There’s two! ONE of them will tear open my chassis while the OTHER one will hold down my thrashing body!]

PROWL: [Actually, they might go for the face first.]

BLUESTREAK: [The face.]

PROWL: [If it happens, your best bet is to just keep yelling “Stop”.]

PROWL: [Behave as if it’s Elita One and you will be fine.]

BLUESTREAK: [Will I?!]

PROWL: [You will be fine because I will ensue you will be fine.]

PROWL: [We’ve been talking to everyone else the whole time we’ve been helping you. Ratchet knows Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and says they’ll listen to him over their actual bosses. Blurr is going to call Swindle who’s going to get in touch with the Twins’ program to get their contact details and Swerve is working out how to bounce the call from Prowl to you to them.]

PROWL: [This will take time. Myself and Jazz will stay available for consultation on everything. You greatest survival asset will be to maintain a positive rapport with these pilots. Assist them where you can but don’t risk sustaining any injury.]

BLUESTREAK: [Okay. Be helpful. Be endearing. Don’t show fear. Act like it’s Elita. Act like I’m human.]

BLUESTREAK: [Fuck.]

PROWL: [That’s the spirit.]

———————————————————————

A one shot story to get a feel for writing comms conversations.

Hunter Class mecha are basically the long haul truckers of the mecha world. Stopping Quintesson attacks on population centers take precedence but since they can drop anywhere, I imagine there’s a niche market for getting rid of the ones loose elsewhere on the planet.

-SSTP

[gatorbites-imagines]

the idea of an alternate mark/multiple of them trying to attack a kryptonian reader (or even just. A reader that’s stronger than them) and just . breaking their hands absolutely kills me,,, seemingly normal human guy just standing there while the marks are just punching him like he’s a wall - he’s safe even before he pet-ifies them

Alternate Marks (Petvincibles) x kryptonian male reader 

Headcanons 

I just thought this scenario was really funny, so I decided to cook up a more solid thing for it. 

Imagine, you are a powerful kryptonian villain from the DC universe. You have obviously built a resistance to kryptonite and other kryptonian weaknesses, you are unstoppable. 

Or well, you should have been. In the end, Kal-El and his justice league defeat you with the power of friendship. 

Kal-El, being the kindhearted man he is, offers to let you serve your punishment in a different universe if you behave. This might also be because you are one of the few kryptonians left, so he doesn't want you to die or anything. 

In the end his passion, kindness and sunny personality makes you see the light, as villains tend to do. You agree to serve out your sentence in a different universe,  

The universe you end up being sent to, is the one from invincible, since it has nothing to do with the people you are used too. 

Batman helped you set up a fake identity before you crossed over, ironclad enough that even the GDA would never think it was fake. 

Ironically, you settle down as a journalist. It's a bit embarrassing in the beginning that you end up doing the same thing as Kal-El, but you swallow your pride and just live a normal human life. 

Sure, you could have helped save this planet and many lives, but, you weren't Kal-El, you felt no need to defend anyone or anything. Even when your sensitive hearing picked up on the guardians being killed, you did nothing. 

Not your circus, not your monkeys. You enjoyed your (retirement) punishment too much. 

You were enjoying your day off when the chuckleheads showed up through their portals.  

You had just gotten out of your shower, put on some comfy sweats and a t-shirt, ready to munch down on takeout and watch horrible reality tv, when your telenovela changed to the news instead. 

Normally, you would just have left it alone. Other heroes would take care of it, like always. And it would have stayed that way, until you watched this cadmus suit wearing fucker destroy your workplace. 

Luckily it was the bimonthly “nobody is in the building” day, so there was no one inside, but still, that was your job dude. 

When the news showed all of these numbnuts, and you saw just how the usual heroes were getting broken left and right, you realized you might have to step in. 

No way you were gonna let these guys destroy your retirement. You still owned your old suit, the one the justice league had beat you in, but you felt no need to put it on for this. 

This was simply you disciplining a group of brats, no need to take it too seriously. 

You were faster, stronger, bigger, sturdier, everything they could dream of being, so obviously you reach one of them first.  

This one just happened to look like a bee, or a wasp. And he seemed so entertained by your presence, his very energy grated your nerves, acting like he was sure to win and that this was all a mild inconvenience. 

That is, until he threw a punch and you didn't move, tired and bored expression on your face. 

Sinister had assumed this would be easy, just another useless fool to punch a hole through. Well, it would have been, if his fist didn't shatter when it met your chest. 

A shocked guttural yell pulls him his chest as he feels his arm break all the way up to his elbow, just from punching you with all his might. It left Sinister feeling shocked for a moment, and a moment was all you needed to beat him. 

Past you would have killed him, but Kal-el had been so serious about you growing as a person and being better, so you just... tuck him under your arm and fly off for the next invincible. 

It wouldn't take long for the GDA and public to notice their attackers being taken out, by a guy in sweatpants and a hello kitty shirt of all things too. 

Normal Mark would immediately tense, ready to fight even if he knows he wouldn't stand a chance after seeing you take out all his alternate selves so quickly and easily. 

“Relax, I'm retired” you tell him, holding a hand out as if to comfort him. Mark doesn't really know what to do with you, seeing someone so fucking strong just... chilling. You could clearly have beat his dad, so why didn't you? 

“didn't feel like it” you shrug. Then why take out these guys? “Destroyed my favorite coffee shop and my workplace” 

The GDA obviously want you to hand over the alternate Marks, where you just bark a laugh in their face. “Yeah right. I know what you government folk do to people like them”. So, you end up bringing all the vincibles back to your place. 

This is probably also the best place they can do, since you are the only one able to contain them. 

When they wake up, they are obviously gonna attack you again, from wounded pride or whatever else they might be experiencing. You easily keep up, beating them down again and again until they are mellowed out. 

You also give them the whole speech Kal-El gave you, about being better and whatever. The speech isn't what slowly turns them, but rather just you in general. 

Maybe its viltrumite biology to be into people who are stronger, or it's because you are such a strong figure, but they start to become “pet-ified” as we say. 

Chances are, you still have contact with the justice league, who helps you offer all the Marks ways into other universes where they can start afresh, and be heroes. But they all decide to stick with you instead as they have grown attached, like feral tomcats. 

GDA isn't happy about it obviously, but what the hell are they gonna do about it? Normal Mark wouldn't be happy about it either, but he would at least just kinda grow to accept it over time. 

Luckily for you, nobody really noticed or got your face on camera when you picked the vincibles up either, so you are able to return to work a while later.  

All is swell, but your apartment, and earth itself, is starting to feel stuffy. Maybe it's finally time to leave the planet and start exploring the galaxy, and you have a feeling the vincibles would follow if you did. Except of course, the original one, perhaps.  

[cameronsbabydoll]

Pt.2 of bimbo reader??

Maybe the boys confront her or they try to win her friendship back

THE AFTERMATH — POGUE BOYS x BIMBO READER

It starts with the absence.

At first, Pope doesn’t care. Not having to sit through another agonizing session of Bimbo Barbie’s Guide to the Universe should be a win, right? No more ridiculous tangents, no more “Popey, you should totally try this aesthetic!” No more flipping through Vogue while he’s trying to explain the Pythagorean theorem.

It should feel like freedom.

So why does it feel weird?

A week passes. Then another.

The group texts are quieter. No more random DM spams of outfit inspo. No more stupid little heart-doodled notes in his notebooks. No more of your sing-song voice calling out “Popey!” in public, making him want to die inside.

And then he sees you.

Not ignoring them exactly, but… different. Muted.

You don’t light up when you see them. Doesn’t stop to wave. You just lower your head and walk faster, like your embarrassed to be seen with them.

And that’s when it hits Pope—when the guilt starts clawing at him.

The final straw comes at The Wreck.

You’re sitting with her rich-girl friends, sipping on an overpriced smoothie, looking as effortlessly pretty and put-together as always. But your voice is… different. Smaller.

“I was so stupid,” you say, stirring your drink with a straw. “I actually thought they liked me.”

Pope freezes.

“They totally played me,” you continue, laughing, but it’s not her usual bubbly laugh. It’s forced. “I mean, duh. Why would they actually wanna hang out with me?”

JJ, sitting next to Pope, shifts uncomfortably. Even he isn’t grinning.

Pope just stares at his plate. His stomach twists.

He was part of this. He let it happen.

—

Back at the Chateau, he snaps.

“We were assholes.”

JJ groans. “Oh, come on, man—”

“No. Seriously. We were.” Pope pushes off the couch, pacing. “She wasn’t making fun of us. She wasn’t patronizing us. She actually liked hanging out with us. And we just—” He makes a frustrated gesture. “Made her a joke.”

John B shifts, looking guilty, but JJ—JJ hates this conversation.

“She’ll be fine,” JJ mutters, leaning back. “She’s rich. She’s got, like, a million other people to hype up her Barbie princess world.”

“That’s not the point,” Pope snaps. “She trusted us. And we humiliated her.”

A beat of silence.

JJ exhales through his nose, tipping his head back against the couch. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say we were dicks. What do you wanna do about it?”

Pope hesitates. Because that’s the problem.

What the hell are they supposed to do now?

Your not just avoiding them—your done with them. And if Pope knows anything about you, it’s that when you move on, you move on.

So how the hell do you fix something like that?

—

They try.

Well, Pope tries.

John B helps.

JJ? He’s forced into it.

It starts with Pope cornering. “Hey, can we talk?”

You blink at him, lips pursed in the glossiest pink he’s ever seen. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

Pope feels that one in his soul. “Look, I—” He sighs. “I was an asshole. We all were.”

You folds her arms. “Mhm.”

Okay. So this is not going well.

“Can I just—please. Let me make it up to you.”

Your eyes narrow. “How?”

And that’s how Pope finds himself standing in the middle of your favorite boutique, looking miserable as you hold up two nearly identical mini skirts and asks, “Which one is more ‘coastal grandmother meets Y2K pop star’?”

JJ and John B are watching from a nearby bench, dying.

But they go along with it. They sit through the shopping trip from hell, nodding seriously as you explains color theory to them, pretending to care about the life-changing difference between baby pink and blush pink.

And it works. Kind of.

You’re still wary of them. Still a little stiff. But eventually, your natural excitement slips through.

When they finally leave, Pope drags JJ and John B aside.

“We’re not there yet,” he mutters. “We need something bigger.”

JJ groans. “Dude, I already sat through a forty-five-minute rant about Vogue’s editorial decline—how much more do we have to suffer?”

Pope levels him with a glare. “Until she believes we’re sorry.”

So they come up with a plan.

The next time you walks into The Wreck, your met with… a presentation.

A full PowerPoint.

Titled: “Why (Y/N) is Actually the Coolest Person We Know.”

JJ is the hype man. John B is the tech guy. Pope? He’s presenting.

Slide one: Your impeccable taste in fashion.

Slide two: Your kindness (even when they were being dicks).

Slide three: Your ability to make Pope Heyward actually learn something new (even if it was against his will).

By slide four, you’re tearing up. By the end, you are laughing so hard you can’t breathe.

And just like that, they’ve won you back.

Well. Almost.

“You guys still have a lot to make up for,” you says, arms crossed, but your smiling now, that real smile they hadn’t seen in weeks.

JJ slings an arm around her. “We live to suffer, babe.”

Pope sighs. “I’m never calling you babe.”

And just like that, they’re okay again.

[kittenshift-17]

"Soooo... what are we gonna do if he doesn't go away?" Stiles asked softly after spitting out the pool water that’d seeped past his lips.

They both knew what he was talking about. Derek was completely paralysed, and the dead weight of the werewolf was weighing him down. They could both feel Stiles’s strength beginning to wane after two hours of treading water.

"Risk whatever he's gonna do to us if we swim to the edge?" Derek suggested, and Stiles could tell from the look on his face that the werewolf knew that way led a gory, blood-soaked death.

"Think I'd rather drown than be gutted," he muttered.

Derek didn't say anything to that, but he didn't really have to. After two hours of this, Derek had accepted that any minute now, he would drown. He didn't trust humans, especially not Stiles, and he'd been waiting for Stiles to make the decision to save himself. To throw Derek's arm off himself and swim for the edge. To let him sink and leave him to die.

He hadn't yet, and Derek didn't know why, other than the fear of the kanima outweighing his fear of drowning.

"Maybe he'll go away," Derek suggested. "I'm pretty sure someone's controlling him."

"Controlling him to keep us in the pool?" Stiles frowned.

"He's clearly after one of us," Derek shrugged.

"Probably you after all the times you've hunted him."

Derek agreed, though he didn't say so.

"If that's the case, he'll probably let you leave," he pointed out quietly. "You... you can let me go, you know."

Stiles twisted his head to gape at him in confusion.

"You'll drown."

"Yeah, but you won't," Derek answered seriously. "I know you're tired. If you wait any longer, you won't have the strength to swim to the edge and climb out."

Stiles gave him an indecipherable look, the skin around his eyes tightening.

"You don't have to drown with me," Derek murmured quietly because he was certain they both would if Stiles didn't let him go.

"We don't know for certain that it's after you," Stiles replied evenly, looking away from him before he began kicking a little harder and using the arm not holding Derek up to begin dragging them both through the water toward the shallower end.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to drown," Stiles huffed.

Derek knew he was flagging. He could feel the way the younger man's muscles trembled with every circle of limbs designed to keep them afloat. Stiles kept swimming while the kanima circled the pool edge, hissing and flicking his creepy serpentine tail. Despite the lizard skin, he reminded Derek of a cat eyeing a bird it wanted to hunt but couldn't reach.

"The pool is still too deep at the other end for you to touch the bottom," Derek pointed out.

"The disability access steps aren't," Stiles grunted and Derek's eyes widened, remembering the school had installed a special staircase into the water that would allow those who couldn't use the ladder to still swim.

"He'll be able to reach with his claws," Derek warned.

"Not if I stay right at the edge of them. I should be able to stand up there."

He kept struggling, panting heavily and almost dropping them both under the water several times. Derek hated being so helpless, his limbs completely numb.

"You don't have to save me, Stiles," he tried again.

"Dude, you only got cut and fell into the pool in the first place because you were trying to push me out of the way when he came at us," Stiles disagreed. "I know you're fast enough to outrun that thing. You could have legged it like Erica did. But you didn't. I'm not gonna let you die for me."

The logic floored Derek.

Like, yeah, he had been trying to save Stiles, but he was bigger and stronger and faster, and the creature probably wasn't after the sarcastic teenager.

"Made it," Stiles grunted in relief, and Derek felt it when he got his feet under him on the solid steps and was no longer straining to tread water.

The creature snarled, swiping at them and it hissed and skittering away when it got wet again.

"It's definitely afraid of the water."

Derek nodded in agreement as Stiles adjusted his grip on him, unfurling Derek's arm from around his shoulders and turning his body to put both arms around his waist, Derek's back to his chest.

He leaned back against the bollard in the middle of the step, installed to ensure no one in a wheelchair using the steps accidentally rolled into the spot that would be too deep. On the step, the water barely cleared Stiles's stomach when he stood at full height - the perfect depth for someone in a chair to keep their head above water. But to keep out of reach of the creature, they had to stay as submerged as possible.

Derek ended up practically in Stiles lap, the boy using his own thighs to help keep Derek’s head above water, arranging his legs to balance the back of his thighs over Stiles’s knees. The alpha wolf inside his soul hated the position, so utterly vulnerable with Stiles at his back, his warm breath huffing at the side of his neck and cheek, over the top of his shoulder. His arms around his waist, supporting him.

"Thank you," he forced himself to say while Stiles panted tiredly, his forehead leaning against the back of Derek's head. "For not letting me drown."

"Yeah, well, you didn't let that thing gut me," Stiles muttered. "And you saved me when Isaac wanted to eat me on his first full moon."

They fell silent after that, Stiles still panting a little from the exertion - he was going to be sore in the coming days after the strain on his muscles, Derek was sure of it. The creature came back a few times, never getting close enough to the water's edge to reach them again, before eventually, it disappeared.

"He's gone," Derek said quietly, and Stiles jolted against his back, having almost dozed off.

"You sure? He could be hiding to try and lure us out."

Derek listened for the creature's heartbeat, but only the steady thump of his own and Stiles’s met his ears.

"We're alone," Derek confirmed.

"Oh, thank God. I'm freezing."

He stirred beneath Derek, beginning to drag him up the stairs to get them both out of the water.

"I think some feeling is coming back," Derek confided when Stiles had him on dry land.

"Of course it is," Stiles huffed. "Perfect timing."

Derek managed to drag himself into a sitting position right as another heartbeat reached his ears followed by the drum of rapid footsteps. He whipped his head around, looking for the source, only to see Scott running into view.

"Stiles! Derek!" Scott yelled.

"More perfect timing," Stiles muttered bitterly. "You couldn't have shown up an hour ago, Scott?"

Derek huffed as well because it was annoying that Scott, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd had all left them here. They could have died.

Stiles looked over at Derek when Scott hauled him onto his feet. Derek met his gaze, his legs still weak.

Stiles had protected him. This mouthy, sarcastic spazz had been willing to drown for him, to die with him rather than leaving him alone to save himself.

Derek couldn't remember the last time anyone had shown him that kind of loyalty. Maybe Laura? Maybe his parents? All of them wolves, all with blood ties to him. And yet here was this stubborn, smart ass human who annoyed Derek more than anyone else he'd ever met, and he'd saved him. He'd shown more loyalty than his pack members had.

The bond snapped into place with a crack like lightning, zinging through his cells, his blood, his soul, and Derek grunted at the sting. Stiles jumped like he'd had a fright, and Scott tensed nervously as the scent of ozone and lightning flooded the space between them. Emotion poured through, heat searing along the pathway linking the two of them. Confusion. Curiosity. Worry. Anxiety. Exhaustion. All of it sizzled into him, and Derek had to close his eyes, taking a controlled breath.

"What just happened?" Scott confirmed, sniffing worriedly.

Stiles was rubbing his chest where the bond originated, his eyes fixed on Derek, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but had no words.

Derek met his gaze steadily, knowing firsthand how overwhelming a pack bond could be when it formed, even for a wolf. For a human, it had to be like being electrocuted, burned alive, and drowned all at the same time. The linking of souls, or mind, or emotions all designed to attune a packmate to another, designed to protect, to connect, to irrevocably link.

"Is... is this... a wolf thing?" Stiles asked and Derek was certain his own resignation, gratitude, confusion, and ever-present underlying anger were all flooding down the bond to Stiles in return.

"What?" Scott asked. "What happened?"

"A pack bond," Derek confirmed quietly, not daring to tell either of them that the last time he'd shared a pack bond with anyone, it'd been Laura. His family. He hadn't bonded with the wolves he'd bitten, and his bond to Peter had been burned out of him like everything else during the fire.

Something unknotted in Derek's belly when Stiles stumbled across the space between the two of them.

"What's a pack bond?" Scott asked dumbly because the boy was an idiot who kept rejecting everything wolfish instead of learning about what he'd become.

Stiles gripped Derek's waist, clinging to him, pushing into his space, and Derek managed to get his arm up, gripping the back of Stiles’s neck in return. He pulled Stiles in by it, burying his nose in Stiles’s hair and breathing in the scent of him, like caramel and sunshine, and the medicinal tang of his Adderall all currently overlaid with the stink of chlorine from the pool.

"Stiles? What's happening? What is this? I thought you two hated each other?" Scott asked, bewildered.

Derek didn't bother explaining it to him, just clung to Stiles tighter and closed his eyes relishing in the complete overwhelm of having a pack bond again, his wolf howling with joy after so long on his own. Stiles burrowed into him, arms curling all the way around him while he buried his head in Derek's neck, clinging to him tightly, hugging him while he trembled.

It might’ve been completely unintentional, and Derek was certain that when the euphoria wore off, he'd resent being so intimately linked with the spastic human, but for now, he had a new pack bondmate, and for the first time in over a year, Derek felt at peace.

.

Xx-Kitten

[crimsonnsstuff]

Dark thanos x reader x dark nam gyu where reader is basically female min su. They bully her all the time. Soo their bullying become darker

Thanos and Namgyu were always bullying you. It was small things like pushing you around. You joined their group pretty quickly, not because you wanted to be their friends, but because they’re the strongest group, and you didn’t wanna die. The first vote, you voted to leave. They got pissed.

Thanos pinned you to the wall. “I swear to god if you vote to leave again, you’ll regret it because of what we will do to you..”

You quickly nod and obey. The next day before the vote, you broke down. You started crying and babbling about how to wanted to go home to Se-mi. “Don’t worry..we will get out of here.”

When it was time to vote, you voted to leave once again. You looked over at Thanos and Namgyu, whose eyes were boring into you and shaking their heads. You quickly avert your gaze.

After lights out you were in the bathroom, going pee. You hear the door open. Who would be up this late? The footprints lead to your stall. They bang on your stall.

“Occupied..” you mutter. They keep banging. “Damnit..” you say, wiping yourself and then flushing.

You stand up and open the door. You see Thanos and Namgyu. They are quick to push you back into the stall. “What do you think you’re doing, pup?” Namgyu growls. Thanos pushes you down to sit on the toilet.

“W-what?” You mutter. “Do we look like a fucking joke to you!?” Thanos yells. “N-no..I-“ “then why did you vote to leave!” Namgyu says.

“I-I was scared..I just wanna go home..” you mutter, a dear ducts in your eye. “Aw, poor little puppy want to go home? Poor puppy wants to see her family?” Thanos mocks, pouting.

“Open her legs.” Thanos growls. Namgyu immediately leans down and forces your legs open. “Wait, stop!” You shout.

Namgyu rips your sweatpants off, and then your underwear. Thanos smirks as he looks at your pussy. “So pretty..” he growls under his breath, rubbing your clit gently.

“I think we have been a bit to nice to you, don’t you think?” Thanos says, slipping 2 fingers into your pussy. You go to open your mouth but Namgyu slaps you. “It was a rhetorical question, slut.”

You whine. Thanos pulls his cocks out of his pants and gives it a few pumps. Namgyu takes your panties off the floor and shoves them into your mouth, silencing you.

You were too focused on Namgyu ramming your panties into you mouth to notice Thanos sliding into you. You groan around your panties, legs closing. Namgyu forces them back open. “Just let him fuck you.” He growls.

Thanos starts to slam into you. You desperately try to push him off of you, but he doesn’t budge. He was making sounds of pleasure while you were making sounds of embarrassment and pain.

Suddenly, the pain turns into pleasure, and you accidentally let out a moan. Thanos smirks and punches your nipple, making your body jerk. “Don’t be shy.” He says, thrusting faster.

You move your body down to meet his thrusts. Namgyu chuckles and presses his hand down on your stomach, wanting to feel how deep Thanos is in you. “Holy shit, dude. You’re so deep.” He groans.

Thanos’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he throws his head back. He groans as he cums. His body convulses and he pulls out, leaving you unsatisfied.

“Jesus man, you came so fast.” Namgyu laughs.

“Not even gonna let you cum. Next time, don’t vote to leave.” Thanos says, they both walk out of the bathroom, leaving you gaping and dripping. You realize you’re gonna have to finish yourself off with your own fingers

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society

summary: y/n receives yet another profession of love under their door—too bad the hallway is always empty when they open the door

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 591

i am back two years and one english degree later to write a fic that no one asked for! now that's what i call self care!

part two

Winter proved the student body of Welton wrong when they thought the school couldn't get any more dull. The cold can be cruel like that.

Just like the winter stripped the North of all life, Welton stripped it's students of all identity. In a place where boot licking is the norm and conformity is the goal—Y/N's only retreat was the 200 square foot box they called home for ten months of the year. The only place anyone in Welton was allowed to be themself.

That was exactly where Y/N and their roommate—Quinn—found themselves on a particularly cold Sunday morning.

Y/N sighed and looked from their homework over to Quinn, who had yet to get out of bed, "Do you know that guy that's like...scary good at latin? What's his name? Minks?"

"Hmm," Quinn hummed, wrapping the blanket closer to their body, "the ginger kid? Always hanging out with that tall dude?"

"Yeah, him," a pause and yet another sigh from Y/N, "I think I need a tutor if I want to keep an A this semester. I—"

Suddenly an envelope skidded under the door and across the floor. Rapid footsteps followed soon after and Y/N could hear a door slamming further down the wing.

Quinn rolled their eyes, "God. Not another one."

Y/N just shot them a look and picked up the envelope—one of many addressed to them and left unsigned.

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer."

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer mehmheh blah," Quinn mocked in a high tone, "Yeah. If they were for me, they'd be romantic. For you? Prepare to be murdered."

"Shut up."

Y/N opened the letter and dove in. Their heart was beating much faster than they would like to admit.

Lovely Y/N,

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

I couldn't help but think of you when Keating had us reciting Lord Byron's work last week. The sun was so bright for a dreary winter day, and the rays illuminating from the window painted an image of heaven around your silhouette. You looked so lovely, I could barely register Byron's words.

I would happily go toward the light if I knew you were waiting for me within it.

Sincerely,

Yours.

Y/N could feel Quinn's eyes on them as their cheeks burst into a rosy flame.

"He's in my English class."

Quinn gasped, "Finally! We have a lead!"

"Quinn, I really don't want to play detective on this...what if I think it's the wrong person and make a fool of myself? I think I would have to drop out. Die, even."

But Quinn kept rambling on, completely ignoring their roommate's apprehension, "it's too bad I'm not smart enough for AP English—I would for sure be able to catch that creep staring you down. You're so oblivious. He could be telling you all these things to your face and you would doubt that he's into you."

"I'm not that oblivious, Quinn."

"Oh, please," Quinn exclaimed, "you're so romantically challenged! This guy has been right under your nose and you don't have a single clue!"

Y/N scoffed and returned to their homework.

"Whatever you say, Quinn. We're just going to have to wait and see."

~~~

a/n: who could it possibly be?? 🤯

part two

[jungaji]

CATCH THAT GOMDO! ᵔⰙᵔ | 12 iced americano

prev l masterlist | next

neo city hums with its usual morning rush, but haechan is in no mood to enjoy it, his breath coming in quick bursts. he’s weaving through the crowd like his life depends on it—because it kind of does. his first day back at work after his break (read: suspension), and he’s already late. 

his legs burn as he pushes himself faster, gripping his bag tighter as he mentally runs through a list of flimsy excuses to tell renjun, although, none of them will work, and he knows it all too well.

just as he rounds a corner, focused only on getting to work, he slams into someone, the sudden impact jolting him, almost throwing him off balance.

“dude, watch where you’re—” he snaps, irritation bubbling up as he straightens himself, but the words die in his throat when he sees who it is.

it’s you.

of course it's you. you always had a knack for showing up at the worst moments—his worst moments.

haechan glares up at you, frustration boiling over, but his resolve wavers when he catches the look on your face. you seem genuinely happy to see him, and for some reason, that throws him off balance more than the collision ever could.

his eyes fall to the iced americano in your hand, which you quickly hold out like a peace offering, as if this was all part of your plan.

“haechan!” you say, your voice bright despite his scowl. “i was just about to go look for you.”

for a second, he just stares, then his jaw tightens. he doesn’t have time for this. he doesn’t have time for you. not now, not after everything that you've done to him. he steps back, desperate to keep moving and put some distance between you.

“um, i.. i bought you,” you continue, lifting the iced coffee higher, “i wanted to apologize for... well, everything.”

haechan’s eyes flicker to the drink, then back to you. his expression hardens as he scoffs, “i don’t want your coffee.”

you blink, slightly taken aback by his coldness, but quickly recover. “could we just.. just talk for a minute? i—”

“i don’t want to talk,” he snaps, the irritation clear in his voice. “i’ve got nothing to say to you.”

your own frustration begins to simmer beneath the surface, but you swallow it down. you weren’t exactly thrilled to be here either, but you couldn’t afford to disappoint giselle again. she’d always been there for you, and you knew you owed it to her to at least try, even if it was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

“you think i want to be here?” you retort, your voice edged with bitterness. “i’m not doing this for you, haechan. i’m doing this for giselle.”

that catches him off guard, and for a brief moment, his eyes flicker with something—surprise? guilt? he looks away, jaw clenched, clearly not expecting your frustration to match his own.

“look,” you say, sighing as the anger drains from your voice, “i know i screwed up, but i’m trying here. can you at least hear me out for a minute? please?"

haechan looks back at you, and for a long, tense moment, it feels like he’s about to brush you off again. but then, he sighs, shoulders slumping slightly as he finally lets his guard down—if only a little.

“fine, i guess,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “but make it quick. i’m already late.”

you nod, grateful for the opportunity to at least get some words in. "this is.. this is really hard for me but..." you begin hesitantly, pulling your bag forward. “what if we... shared gomdo? i mean, he was yours to begin with..."

taglist(open): @hyuckluvr-com @dudekiss3r @iamsimplyasimp @miniature-tragedy @hamjwis @multifandomania @n0hyuck @jeongintwt @catpjimin @sunghoonsgfreal @loveholicness @222brainrot @swee7dream @joyzluvr @haechyuckan @injunnie-lemon @yewshi @p4tyaraujo @hyucktion @aek1ra @dwcljh @mystverse @kirbrary @ldh0000 @haechsworld @beomgyusonlywife @docilismo @222low @strrykais @polarisjisung @jeonghansshitester @spideykeyring @meemememeem @nessaassen02 @hyuckies18 @minkyuncutie @slayhaechan @xiaojunsdino @chenlesfavorite @taroddori @thegracerammy @luv4jeno @kyubing @chibilino @lionzyon @foxy-kitsune @hyuckiesoftie

authors note: first written chapter how we feeling😵‍💫😵‍💫 aaa sorry for disappearing oh my gosh ive been feeling a lil unmotivated lately because sch starts in two days n im dreading it so bad :[ also because sch is starting, i might have to start a fixed update schedule, so if u read this please lmk if u would prefer double updates on wednesday or updates during the weekends!!! ALSO ALSO 7dream & rii7e this week??? singlehandedly cured me🥰 ALSO ALSO ALSO thank you for all the birthday wishes!!! i love u guys so much! happy reading :]

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

If Eleutherophobia!Tom had to rank the Animorphs by how much he likes them, what would be the ranking? Who would he rather be trapped in an elevator with? (I’m curious to hear more of his thoughts on Cassie and Tobias and Ax.)

Jake: The obvious winner. Tom's little brother is awesome, and he doesn't care who knows it. The kid's tough, responsible, caring, and Tom secretly hopes to be more like him when he grows up. They fight, sure, but they get along better than most siblings. There's no person alive that Tom trusts or even likes more than Jake.

Rachel: The cool younger sibling Tom never had, as he's fond of joking. Maybe they fight more than Jake and Tom, but they also spend more time fighting side-by-side than face-to-face. If the chips are down, he wants her in his corner.

Cassie: They've had some weird times, but they've also hit it off faster than Jake could have hoped. Tom is honored to call her a friend, he'd get a beer with her any day of the week, and he hopes like hell that she'll stick around and marry Jake. They shared a brain for only a few minutes, and only out of necessity, but that experience also gave them an unexplainable yet iron-forged connection.

Ax: Tom really likes the kid, who reminds him of Jake. Ax also seems to be good for Jake, and for the continued existence of planet Earth, so he's a solid dude. Tom worries about him, a teenager out alone in charge of an entire space ship; Ax would be appalled if he knew.

Tobias: To be honest, Tom finds him kinda unnerving. He's a nothlit except he's not; he's practically a cryptid; he's a bird but Tom could swear he used to be a human; he's a human but Marco keeps saying he's half-andalite; he's in some kind of situationship with Rachel. Yeerk Empire rumor has it that he has no two-hour limit. Andalite Electorate rumor has it that he was born a bird and then taught to morph human. Tom has no idea what that kid's deal is, and at this point is too afraid to ask.

Marco: Look. To give them credit, Tom and Marco try to tolerate each other. But there's no undercurrent of affection to their bickering (i.e. Marco and Rachel), just mutual dislike. Tom finds Marco irreverent and obnoxious; Marco finds Tom stiff and blockheaded. Marco has taken a media bullet for Tom, Tom has taken a military bullet for Marco, they'd both do it again with no hesitation, and if they never had to spend another minute in each other's company then they'd both die happy.

[thehomophobe]

Sitting On Their Lap 😌

Freddy 🐻: You're well-acquainted with sitting on Freddy's lap. The heated silicon acted as a warm cushion for your bottom. The manufacturers made his thighs pretty plush despite his muscular form. Freddy likes to place you on his lap after shows or after anything for that matter. Freddy is a busy man as he is the face of the Pizzaplex. Once things die down, Freddy loves to unwind with you. Your smaller form cradled into his large hands as the two of you chat. All in all, he loves holding you in his lap.

Chica 🐔: While she's deemed the smallest of the gang, she's still taller than you. I said it before in the "Making Out" headcanons, but I'll say it again: Chica's 5'9, you're 5'6. And God does she love using your height as an excuse to baby you. She practically abuses the height difference. Pinch your cheeks and pat your head whilst she giggles and calls you cute. That also means an excuse for lap-sitting. Where Chica plops you into her lap and plays with your hair, squawking about whatever is generated in her motherboard. Sometimes before a show, she has you in her lap while she does her makeup to have one final chat before she hits the stage. Her thighs are so soft and squishy; they make the perfect pillow. Overall, best lap to sit on.

Monty 🐊: Physical affection is his love language, so of course, Monty's hands are around you somewhere some time. From a hand on your hip to just straight up carrying you over the shoulder. No matter the body type, Monty fucking loves holding you. Lap-sitting is very common with the caiman man. (cai-man i need to fucking stop) Most commonly after a show where he unwinds with you on his meaty thighs making out in his green room with the curtains closed and the lights hazy. Sometimes when he's not feeling feisty, he just places you on his lap and holds you for comfort. He'll play a little tune on his bass whilst your head rests on his chest to lull you to sleep.

Roxy 🐺: Lap sitting always includes a free makeover and juicy gossip. You're sitting in front of her vanity whilst her nails comb through your hair and style it on a whim. Will also do her makeup before a show with you on her lap. Her thighs are meaty, but a little soft, and her boobs make the best pillow ever. You'll just stuff your face into her breasts just to rouse her. (She's gonna maim you one way or the other ~) 

Sun 🌞: Expect not a lot of lap sitting. I know, I know, you want to sit on his lap ALL THE TIME, but the dude has to run around the daycare all day to monitor all the children at once. Very little time you get to be in his lap; only a fraction of downtime is when you'll be in his lap comfortably. Although, he's more likely to crawl into your lap out of exhaustion and touch deprivation. He'll probably sleep on you depending on his battery life. When you're in his lap, you two are probably doing arts & crafts together. The tiny chairs are highly uncomfortable, so you eschew sitting on them. Sun's lap is the better option; a heated chest and soft, thin thighs to sit on. You'll never see it with your height difference, but it's obvious that he's flustered about your position. His face is a vibrant red and his fans are whirling faster than a turbine. Oh look, he's stuttering. I-It's just...you look so cute! You're so small compared to him! Even your hands disappear into his hands. He's gonna combust any minute now.

Moon 🌚: Expect lots of lap sitting. Comfort is king for Moon; he was LITERALLY built for this. Unlike Sun, who bouncing around the daycare all day, Moon merely meanders around the sleeping children making sure they're sleeping soundly. Once the final child is put to rest, you and Moon snuggle up against each other. HIs thighs are cold. A cooling cold, not a shivering cold. His legs too are thin, but more meaty and tender than Sun's. Claw-like fingers scratch your head like a scalp massager as soft whispers of sweet-nothing coo your ears, melting you into a dream-like state. Pull up a blanket and get comfy, you deserve this long night's rest.

[bingwriterxo]

the chase

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada play a game of cat and mouse

warnings: none

word count: 4100+

author's note: does this make any sense? great question!

The moment Vada slipped into the passenger’s seat of Nick’s car, words were flying out of his mouth faster than she could comprehend, which was saying a lot considering how often she’d find herself rambling about the most random of things.

“Where were you yesterday?” he started as he shifted the car into drive, beginning their short ride to school. “I called you seven times, and you didn’t answer once. It was Sunday, and you do nothing on Sundays! I was beginning to think you were dead until I texted your mom and--”

Vada shook her head. “Wait, slow down. Back up. You text my mom? When did you get her number?”

He waved her off. “Not important. What is important is you telling me what you were doing yesterday.” He rolled past a stop sign, barely even glancing in its direction as he drove past. “I mean, seven calls, V, and you answered not a single one! So, what were you doing?”

She grinned, giggling in her seat at what she was about to reveal. “I had a date!”

Almost immediately, Nick whipped his head to look at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “With who?!” he practically shouted.

Vada reached out, took his chin between her forefinger and thumb, and turned his head back in the direction of the windshield. “Eyes on the road, stupid. I’m not trying to die today.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Vada, if you don’t tell me who you went on a date with in the next five seconds, I’ll purposely drive us into oncoming traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. He glared at her quickly before focusing on the road again. She bit her lip, trying to quell the excitement raging in her stomach as she said, “It was with Y/N.”

The car skidded to a stop and Vada was jolted forward, her seatbelt pressing tight against her body.

“Dude, what the fuck--” she began, but she was silenced as Nick twisted in his seat, his eyes hard as they set on her and his frown so defined that it made her uncomfortable.

“What,” he deadpanned.

She rubbed at her chest, right where the seat belt had dug into her. “What?” she asked, confused.

“You went on a date with…Y/N? Popular Y/N? Like, most-popular-girl-in-school Y/N?”

Vada tilted her head. “Uh, yeah?”

“Why the fu--” Nick was interrupted by a car honking at him. He threw his arm up in annoyance before starting to drive again, and Vada gulped as he stewed in his seat. “I can’t believe you went on a date with Y/N!”

“Why are you saying it like that?” Vada asked. She shifted, disliking the tension that was starting to fill the air. “You make it sound like a bad thing. I thought you’d be excited! I finally went on my first date with a girl! You’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I came out to you.”

“First of all, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I met you, because, baby, the closet is glass.” He took a hard right. The school loomed up ahead. “Secondly, I wanted you to go on a date with basically anyone other than Y/N.”

Vada furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m not that obviously bisexual.” Silence filled the car and she huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, maybe I am. But why is going out with Y/N such a bad thing? She’s funny and cute and really smart. Basically, she’s perfect.”

“She’s not perfect, V,” Nick said, sitting up a little straighter as he pulled into the parking lot. “Haven’t you ever noticed that she’s got a new girl hanging off of her every month?” Vada’s stomach dropped, a sudden sense of anxiety flooding through her veins. “I mean, she goes through girls like you go through sugar.”

“No she doesn’t,” Vada tried, but her denial fell on deaf ears.

“She’s the biggest player this school has,” Nick said, leaning forward as he tried to pull into his designated parking spot. “She’s probably the biggest player in the damn county. She chases after a girl, stays with her for a few weeks, gets bored, and then does it all over again.” He turned to her as he shifted the gear into park. “Vada, she’s worse than John Tucker.”

“Are you seriously referencing a movie right now?” She scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s not like that.”

“Fine,” Nick conceded. “But when you get hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s just in it for the chase.”

Vada clambered out of the car and pulled her backpack onto her shoulder. “And when we live happily ever after,” she started as she and Nick started to walk into the school, “I’ll say ‘I told you so’.”

He glanced at her before looking forward, his eyes widening. “...I’m not so sure about that one, V.”

She frowned and followed Nick’s line of sight, a sharp pain shooting through her at what she saw. You had your back pressed against your locker, trapped there by Stacey from Vada’s history class, who had her hand flat against the metal and was leaning close to you. Stacey was batting her eyelashes and giggling, and you were smiling along.

“Oh,” Vada said, voice quiet and small. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard, looking back up at Nick. “Well, I guess you were right.”

He offered her a pitiful smile. “I’m sorry, V. But, you should be glad you won’t be another girl stuck in her revolving door of girls.”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low and filled with sorrow. “So happy.”

Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her toward his own locker. “Don’t be so sad. It’s for the best.”

Vada glanced away. “I just don’t get it. I mean, if she’s in it for the chase, then why is she flirting with another girl? Was I not good enough to chase?” She frowned. “Am I just too boring? Or do I talk too much?” She looked up at Nick. “Nick, be honest with me, do I talk too much? Could that turn someone off?”

“Yes,” he said simply, nodding his head. Vada huffed. He pulled away as the two reached his locker and focused on putting his combination into the lock. “Don’t think too far into it, though. I don’t think you wanna go through the pain of it anyway.” He shrugged and then hit the metal door when it wouldn’t open. “Stupid, old locker.” He glanced at her. “You’d just end up getting your heart broken.”

Vada sighed and leaned against the locker beside Nick’s, her shoulder pressing against the cool metal. “That’s dumb. And unfair. And not very nice.”

Nick’s locker door finally popped open. “Just ignore her from now on, okay?” He glanced at her and started to put his books into his locker. “Don’t talk to her, don’t text her, don’t even think about her. ‘Y/N Y/L/N who?’ That’s how you should be acting.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

“Good.” He slammed the door shut. “Now let’s go to class.”

* * *

The first few periods rolled by smoothly. Vada had no classes with you until after lunch, and she didn’t even get a glimpse of you in the hallways. While part of her was still disheartened by your act, she also agreed with Nick’s words: it was probably for the best that she didn’t get tangled up with you.

That is, until she asked to use the bathroom during her science class, and upon walking inside, found you standing by the sinks, fixing your hair in the mirror. Almost immediately, your eyes landed on her figure through the reflection and you grinned, showing all your pearly-white teeth, before turning around to face her. Vada’s breath was practically sucked from her lungs as she stared at you.

“Vada! Hey!” you greeted, voice happy and excited.

It made Vada uncomfortable, how easily you were able to put on that mask. Nick’s voice rang in her head: Don’t talk to her. She bounced on the balls of her feet before promptly making the decision to hide in one of the stalls, slipping away from your field of vision without a word.

“Oh…kay…” she heard you say. There was the shuffling of your feet before she could see your shoes beneath the stall door. “Text me, okay? I had fun yesterday.” You turned and Vada listened as your footsteps receded.

When she knew she was finally alone, she let out the breath she had been holding and leaned forward, her forehead bumping against the metal of the stall.

“C’mon, Vada, get it together,” she mumbled. “She’s a player. She doesn’t want anything from you.” She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. “She doesn’t want you.”

That was the mantra that repeated in her head for the entire day. It was what she heard when she saw you during lunch, waving at her from across the cafeteria. She reminded herself of it when you sat down beside her during English class and tried to make conversation, to which she entirely ignored you--it did hurt her heart a little when she saw your wide eyes and jutted out bottom lip when you realized she wouldn’t talk to you, but she tried to ignore that, too.

It all came to a head at the end of the day, when Vada was trying to pile as many of her books as she possibly could into her backpack. She was almost done when you sidled up beside her, a gleaming smile on your face and your hands tucked sheepishly in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Hey,” you said softly, like Vada was a scared animal that would run away.

She swallowed, half of her so desperately wanting to talk to you and ask why you would ask her out just to play with her, while the other half of her was set in her stubborn way of not speaking a word to you. The latter half won as she shut her locker door and walked away, but she couldn’t shake you.

You followed beside her, looking down at her as you walked. “I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today, or if you’re just having an off day or something, but I really did have fun on our date, and I’d like to take you on another one.”

She glanced up at you, unable to stop the quickening of her pulse. What if you were telling the truth? She shook her head, Nick’s words in her ear: Don’t even think about her.

Vada managed to lose you in the crowd of students all trying to exit the school at once, but she still heard your voice call over the sound of everyone else.

“I’ll text you then!”

Something about your determination made her want to melt right into your arms, but she stood up a little straighter and continued walking. You didn’t actually want her, she reminded herself. You just liked the chase.

* * *

After a night full of text messages from you that Vada never answered, she sauntered into school the next day with Nick by her side, completely set on avoiding you as much as she could. Unfortunately for both her and Nick, it seemed like you wanted to make that impossible.

The minute she passed through the front doors, you were walking beside her, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Vada glanced at them quickly, feeling butterflies stir in her stomach at the sight, but Nick slapped her on the hand, forcing her to keep her stoic face as she picked up the pace and tried to walk away.

“What, do you not like roses?” you asked, just a step behind the pair. You sounded dejected, defeated--some part of Vada felt bad; the other part thought ‘good. she should feel bad’. After a moment of silence from you, she heard the smallest, “Well, okay,” and when she looked over her shoulder, you were gone, the roses sticking out of the top of the nearest trash can. It was a depressing sight to see.

She sighed. “I feel kind of bad, Nick,” she admitted, and the boy shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “She deserves to be humbled for once.” He scoffed. “She can’t just have anyone she wants and then throw them away when she gets bored because she’s pretty and popular. And she most certainly can’t do that to you.”

“But, yesterday she said that she had fun on our date and wants to go on another one. What if she was telling the truth? What if she actually likes me?”

Nick shook his head again. “It’s all part of her sick game. She wants you to fall for her, and then she’ll pull the rug right out from under you.” He patted Vada on the shoulder. “Trust me; she’s bad news.”

Vada glanced back over her shoulder again, and this time she found you in the same position as the day before--leaning back against your locker with Stacey standing in front of you, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

Your eyes flitted toward her for a split second, wide and forlorn, before they were focusing on Stacey again. You broke out into a grin, throwing your head back as you laughed.

“Right,” Vada grumbled, an ache forming in her chest and radiating throughout the rest of her body. “Bad news.”

* * *

The ‘bad news’ didn’t seem so bad anymore when, in the middle of English class, Vada was tapped on the shoulder by the boy behind her. When she twisted around to see what he wanted, he unceremoniously shoved a folded piece of paper in her direction, a scowl on his face as he waited for her to take it.

With furrowed eyebrows and a frown, Vada grabbed the paper and turned back in her seat, glancing up at her teacher to make sure he wasn’t watching as she unfolded the sheet.

Vada,

Thought I might try the old-fashioned way. Are you free on Friday night? The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries, and I remember you saying you had a crush on Anne Hathaway. Wanna go together?

Y/N :)

Vada glanced toward the back of the room, where you had found yourself sitting that day, and saw you already looking at her, hope painting your face prettily. She cursed herself internally at the butterflies in her stomach as she looked back at the note you had sent forward. It was cute--she’d give you that--and she was tempted to say yes, but the image of Stacey flirting with you flitted through her mind, and that was enough for her to crumple the paper in her hand.

She didn’t look back at you.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident: you didn’t try to speak to her in the halls, and by the time she went to sleep, Vada hadn’t received a single text from you. Just before she drifted off for the night, she briefly thought that you had given up--perhaps you had grown so used to girls falling into your lap that chasing Vada was just too much energy that you didn’t want to use.

She was proven wrong when she woke up to a voicemail from you in the morning. You had called her late at night--the timestamp reading nearly three o’clock--and when Vada played the message aloud, your voice filling her room, shame bloomed in her stomach.

“Hey,” you started, your voice quiet and scratchy. “It’s me. Or, it’s Y/N. I--I don’t know if you’ve deleted my number or something. I just…Look, I know it hasn’t been long since our date, but…” You sighed, and Vada could hear the faintest sound of a sniffle. “The cold shoulder from you doesn’t feel great. I just wanna know where we stand. I had fun on Sunday. Uh, it’s okay if you didn’t. I just wish you would tell me.” You sniffled again. “I guess if you don’t answer this, that’s my answer. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in school.”

Vada threw herself back into her pillows with a sigh. She ran a hand down her face, groaning. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Fuck.” You sounded so sincere in the voicemail, but what if that were just another one of your ploys? What if you did this with every girl? What if—

“Bitch, why the fuck are you still in bed?” Nick asked as he burst into Vada’s bedroom.

She groaned again, throwing her legs up and down like a small toddler not getting their way. Her heart was pulling toward you, but her brain was trying to run away from you as fast as possible. She was torn, and she had no idea what to do.

Luckily for her, she was given more time to think than she had expected. You were absent that day, your missing presence a large hole in her day. There was no one to offer her flowers, or to try to pass her notes during class, or to wave at her in the cafeteria. As much as she hated admitting it to herself, she still liked you, and the lack of you carved a deep pit into her stomach.

That night, when there was still no sign of you--no texts or calls or even posts on any social media--she fell asleep with worry itching beneath her veins and guilt pricking at her chest.

The next morning wasn’t any better. Anxiety sat heavy like a rock in Vada’s stomach as she got ready, while Nick sang some random song in the car, when she walked through the parking lot and into school.

Her eyes immediately flitted toward your locker, a mixture of relief and sorrow surging through her at the sight of you standing there, alone, but with your head hung and your eyes trained on your feet. You were in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. It was all completely unlike you.

“Nick,” she called, getting the boy’s attention. She subtly pointed at you. “Do you think she’s okay?”

He scoffed. “I’m sure her outfit just didn’t look as good in real life as it did in her head. What else does she have to worry about?”

Vada shrugged, her eyes still locked on you. You didn’t look up once.

* * *

It was at night that Vada’s worry had turned into all-out panic. Throughout the school day, you had avoided her like the plague, making sure to never interact with her. At one point, you had locked eyes with her down the hall and then swiftly spun on your heel and walked back in the direction you came from.

That, combined with getting absolutely no notifications from you, led her to a terribly easy decision as she stood from her bed, grabbed a hoodie, and lied to her mom that she was going to Nick’s house. She slipped out the front door, her pace quick as she rushed the few blocks to your house.

When she arrived, it was almost completely dark, save for the fluorescent light coming from your living room, where Vada had found herself just days before after you had taken her out to dinner.

With a hesitant hand, she knocked on your front door. It took only a few seconds before you appeared, looking completely unsurprised to see her.

“Vada,” you said softly, and she was immediately surrounded by the scent of alcohol on your breath. “What’re you doing here?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you…drunk? On a Thursday night?”

You shrugged. “So what if I am? What’re you doing here?” you repeated.

Pushing aside her concerns about your drinking habits, she asked, “Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Chasing me,” she said, like you should’ve known.

You forced out a dry laugh, tilting your head to the side. “You know, you’re a confusing girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you completely ignored all of my attempts to talk to you, and now you’re upset that I’ve stopped, even though it seemed like that’s what you wanted.” You narrowed your eyes. “Sounds kind of confusing, don’t you think?”

Vada swallowed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair,” you muttered beneath your breath. “Okay. Sure. I was unfair to you.” You leaned back on your heels, your hand gripping the doorknob. “Now, if that’s all, then I’ll see you at school.”

You started to close the door, but something about your indifference made anger rise in Vada. “I just didn’t want to become a girl in your revolving door of girls!” she shouted.

You stilled, your eyes widening before glazing over. “Right. My revolving door of girls. That’s what everyone says, right?” Your voice was hollow, sad. Vada didn’t understand why.

“They say it because it’s true,” she huffed. Your posture fell and you glanced away, clenching your jaw. “You chase, you get, you grow bored.”

“That’s not true.” You looked at her, and faintly, she could see tears glossing your eyes. “That’s not…true. Those girls chase me; they use me; they leave me.” Your volume grew steadily, a sort of rage backing your words. “But since I’m the one factor that stays the same, everyone blames me. And it’s not--” You sighed. “It’s not true.”

You scoffed. “And you know what, I thought you might be the one person that didn’t believe what everyone else said. You seemed real, authentic, like you didn’t really give a shit about the crowd, Vada. That’s why I liked you, why I was trying. I thought you were your own person. But I was wrong. You’re just like the rest of the school.”

With all of the new information thrown at her, confusion and guilt and shame and hurt burning her, the only thing Vada managed to say was, “Oh.”

You nodded, glancing away. “Yeah. ‘Oh’. So, I’ll see you at school.”

When you shut the door, leaving Vada standing alone on your front porch, realization struck her like a tidal wave, and everything from the past few days came crashing down on her.

You didn’t chase. Or, at least, not until her.

“Shit.”

* * *

Vada (11:42pm): need ur help

Vada (11:42pm): 911

Mia (11:43pm): ???

Vada (11:43pm): help me ask Y/N out

Vada (11:43pm): ur her best friend. pls.

Mia (11:45pm): bro u fucked up big time

Mia (11:45pm): shes forgiving and all but…

Vada (11:45pm): mia pls

Mia (11:49pm): fine.

Mia (11:49pm): only b/c i know how much she likes u

Mia (11:49pm): dont fuck up again

Mia (11:50pm): heres what u should do

* * *

You didn’t show up to school again the next day, but it barely registered in Vada’s mind. She had already known beforehand that you wouldn’t be going--Mia had slipped her some ‘secret intel’ that your hangover had you sleeping the day away. Instead, she spent the hours mentally preparing herself, and as soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the day, she set her plan into motion.

At exactly six o’clock at night, Vada was standing at your front door again, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her (Mia’s) car keys in the other. She knocked on the wood, waited, and when you pulled the door open, her words immediately pushed themselves out of her mouth.

“The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries tonight, and I know you don’t like Anne Hathaway as much as I do, but I’d like to take you to see it.” She inhaled deeply and continued. “And I’d also like to apologize because I’ve been shitty to you these past few days, and I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors, and I should’ve just talked to you about it all, and I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I just”--she gasped, her lungs stinging with lack of air, and kept going--“I really do like you, and I did have fun on our initial date, and I’m sorry. Can I take you to the drive-in?”

You blinked once, twice, before you raised a single brow. “What?”

Vada sighed. “The most important thing from all of that is that I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know that can’t just go away, but I’d like the chance to make it up to you, if you’d let me.” She shoved the flowers in your direction. “Want to go see The Princess Diaries?”

You glanced down at the flowers, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, and then took them from her. With the smallest and softest smile that made Vada’s knees buckles, you nodded.

“Okay.” Your face fell. “But on one condition.”

She nodded fervently. “Anything.”

You grinned. “Let’s get milkshakes after and talk.”

bonus: “like, how could you not have a huge crush on anne hathaway?” vada asked, her eyes glued to the big screen.

you hummed. “i’ve got my eye on someone else.”

when she looked at you, ready to argue about anne hathaway’s attractiveness, you were already staring at her, smiling. 

[sofiafantasies]

“Tirame las aguas.”

You say, turning your head behind your shoulder before looking back at your hands. Your fingers working their magic on the keypad. You never really understood why Bruce locks his cookies like this. It's not like you guys were gonna steal it.

Damian nodded and turned around, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall. Jason turned around just to snap his head back at you. “What?” He asked, shaking his head like you just gave him an insult.

“If you can't understand simple instructions on a cookie heist—”

“I understood!” Jason whispered back from the crouched position he was in. You rolled your eyes and looked over your shoulder. “It just doesn't make sense.”

You raised your bottom lip and looked him up and down. You gave him clear instructions, and he made a big deal of them. “Work faster, would ya?” Tim rushed into your ear, the headpiece he had left for you beeping as it activated.

You hissed, rubbing your ear on your shoulder. “Can it, Tim!” You whispered harshly after you lifted your head up. You brought your hand up to your ear and tried to lower the volume. “What doesn't make sense about—?”

“Pennyworth's coming,” Damian informed you in a rush, pushing himself off of the wall. He narrowed his wide eyes at the butler before turning his head to you.

You shifted in the crouched position you were in, a hand to the floor to keep yourself steady. “Distráelo,” you whispered, nodding up at him. “ya casi termino.” He nodded before walking off.

“Jason, tirame las aguas,” you said to him, lifting your head up to look at him. He furrowed his brows at you, you thought it was because you said his name in a Spanish accent. You rolled your eyes, turning to the keypad and typing in other codes that Bruce would use.

“I don't-I don't know what that means.” He stuttered, leaning forward.

“Really, dude?” The voice of Tim came through the comms. You slapped your palm on your ear and took the piece out with a hiss. A chill running down your spine. He must have added volume right after you turned it down. He was a menace.

“Not gonna lie—same!” He chuckled. Jason groaned, reaching out to the headpiece. You sat on your bum and rubbed your ear, groaning. This better be where Bruce keeps his cookies.

“Same what?” Jason questioned, lowering the volume on the earpiece.

“That you don't know what it means.” Tim said with a mouthful. It gave you an idea he was finished patrol and stopped by for a snack.

“Jason, tirame las aguas!” You rushed him. You knew Damian could not keep Alfred away forever. And Bruce could come any minute from patrol.

“I don't know what that means!” He yelled.

You tsked and pulled at the lock. “Tim, si no te apuras te voy a matar!” You whispered harshly. You grunted, hitting the lock with your palm. You wanted those cookies, you were getting those cookies!

“But, Alfred!”

You inhaled, a sharp gasp as you turned your head behind yourself. “Jason!” You whispered, narrowing your eyes. “Tirame. Las. Aguas!” You said, emphasizing your words by widening and narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don't know what the fuck that means!” He whispered, glaring at you. “Do you really want me to throw you the waters? The waters! With an 's'?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows before grunting as you sucked in your bottom lip. You turned back to the keypad, why did Bruce decide to change the location to the floor at the pantry? You didn't think anyone but Jason was allowed in the kitchen.

“Jason, presta atención a la puerta.” You said, trying to clarify.

“They do look sick! I think it's a virus. We must give them medical attention at once.”

Jason peered over his shoulder before he turned back to you. “Why?”

“Code Black!” Tim's frantic voice came through the headpiece.

“What?” You said, turning your head to look behind you.

“Bats on the way home!” He informed, and you could tell he was running.

“Do you want them to die!?”

“Did he catch you?” Jason asked, raising a brow at the headpiece.

Tim scoffed, “Of course not. He got an alarm.”

“Who has an alarm on their cookie jar?”

“Bruce, apa—aparentemente,” you said, pulling at the lock. "y nos va a matar." You say in a whine before snapping your head behind you. “Después de que te mate yo!” You whispered at Jason.

“I am going to die!”

“I don't understand what that means.” He said once again with narrowed eyes.

“Mira, mocoso, hijo del Diablo,” you start, turning to him and abandoning the lock. "como que no sabes? Si te hablo en español todos los días."

“That specific phrase has never been muttered—” he pointed a finger at you making you gasp.

“Como te atreves!” You lean forward just to smack his hand away. “Tu me respetas—me importa un pepino si sos más grande que yo, jueputa!”

“Guys!” Damian said, peering over the door. “Alfred's on his way.”

You groaned and slapped the back of Jason's head which was open to the hit once he turned his head to the little demon brat. “Ow!”

“Que te dije que me tiren las aguas!”

“Why would I throw waters at you?” He yelled, rubbing the back of his head as he turned to look at you. “Waters!”

Damian sighed, shaking his head. “Being around you has made me lose brain cells and unable to make up a great excuse. But then again all your yelling didn't help.” He looked back at the two of you, narrowing his eyes—he hadn't realized until now the two of you were working in the dark and his older brother's eyes were glowing.

He paid no mind to that; the two of you were weird anyway. "I will be heading to the Batcave. I must check on Batcow and Alfred the Cat and make sure they have not caught a sickness. I will accept any punishment from Father once he finds out about this, but I will not leave their side until further notice. Good night, and I love you—not you, Todd.”

“Adiós! Descansa! Dile a los bebés qué los quiero, te amo!” He took a step back and rushed out of the kitchen, evading Alfred. He huffed and made his way to the kitchen pantry. “'Perate!” You yelled, realizing what that meant.

You quickly grabbed the doorknob and closed the door. “Esto es tu culpa!” You say, turning your head to Jason.

“My fault?” He yelled, a hand to his chest. “This is your fault!” He pointed his finger at you because he found that you took it as an insult.

You gasped and stretched your foot out to hit him. He fell back and glared at you. Your foot only missed again. You decide to stand up and kick him, but he just grabbed your ankle and tossed it aside. “Ey!”

You fall to your knee and glare at him. A knock at the pantry door makes you two freeze. You pull at the doorknob, putting all your weight into holding the door closed. “Mrs.—”

“It's okay, Alfred, I'm just very hungry.” You say before he could say anything. “You know, you buy the best snacks—healthy yet yummy!” You chuckle, tilting your head to your shoulder.

“We've been caught, kiddo.” Jason whispers next to you. He narrowed his eyes at you as you didn't reply.

“If you are as hungry as you say why don't I make you and master Jason something.” Alfred offered, his hands behind his back.

“You can take him,” you said loudly, turning your head to him, narrowing your eyes. “all yours.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“You can call me when dinner is ready.” You nodded your head at the door, hoping—praying he would get it.

He rolled his eyes and stood up. You let go of the doorknob quietly and pushed yourself to the wall, tucking your knees close to you. He opened the door, his eyes stopped glowing. “Hey, Alfred.”

You tapped his shin, trying to get him to keep moving—the light was killing you. He rolled his eyes and stepped out, closing the door behind him. “Are they okay?” Alfred raised a brow.

“Eh, sort of.” He shrugged. You crawled to the door and pulled down on the doorknob. Jason crossed his arms with a bored expression—he really wanted those cookies. “S'just back to her old habits.”

Alfred narrowed his eyes. There was nothing to go back to if it was always there.

“He's here, he's—” Tim froze as he saw Alfred. “—Alfred. Hey! Hi, Alfred. Hi, Alfred. Hi, Alfred.” His hands flew behind his back, smiling awkwardly at him.

Jason raised a brow, coughing in his fist. “Uh, right, where's—” a loud alarm rang through the house.

“I got it!” You yelled, kicking the pantry door. Jason yelped and jumped out of the way as Alfred simply took a few steps back. “Te dije qué podría hacerlo, hijos de—” seeing Alfred you settled with a nicer insult. “de vuestro padre hermoso.”

You cleared your throat, hugging the jar of cookies close to your chest. Your irises flickered from Alfred to Jason to Tim as you side-stepped. “Haha!” You exclaimed before running past Tim, holding the jar above your head.

“Hey!” The two guys yelled before running after you. “We were supposed to share those!” Tim yelled after you.

“You were never gonna share those, were you?” Jason yelled.

You ran as fast as you could, not letting yourself get caught. You and your little gremlin laugh were caught off by dark green eyes glaring at you. You yelped before slowing your run. “Beloved, you will share those, won't you?”

“Nope!” You say, running around him. Damian scoffed, turning around to look behind his shoulder. “Ni lo pienses, amor mío!” You laugh before screaming as Batcow mooed at you. “Tramposo!” You yelled as you fell on your bum.

Damian walked to you, Alfred the cat in arms. “You will share.” He said firmly.

“'Ta bien!” You huffed, still holding the jar in your arms. “Pero vámonos qué ya viene el suegro.” You stood up, glaring at him. “Y tu sabes cómo se pone el viejo ese. Baba-in-law nos va a matar pero yo esperó qué te mate primero mientras yo me cómo las demás galletas.”

“Put those back.” The menacing voice of Bruce said behind the two. He ignored the cow inside the manor plus the insult and focused his eyes on the cookie jar.

“Give those back you—” Tim cut himself off and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Bruce dressed in his suit standing menacingly behind the two of you.

“Move it, Replece—what the fuck?” Jason cut himself off as well. He did not flinch at the fact that his father was there. Mostly that Batcow was in the manor. He will fight his father if he has to and you know this.

You know this.

“Aguas!” You yelled, turning to face your brothers-in-law before throwing the jar of cookies. Jason was the first to respond to the call since he still wonders why the hell you are yelling out waters!

Bruce wasted no time in attacking. And Jason wasted no time in attacking back. Tim yelped, getting knocked down. He huffed, the air leaving his lungs. “Corre, hijo de puta!” You yelled before turning to run yourself.

All you knew was that it was chaos. You hid behind a wall, Alfred the cat joining you after getting knocked out of Damian's arms by Jason on accident—the man swears!—making the boy join the fight.

Tim was the only one who was not in the battle. You knew this, of course. He's tactical. Strategetic. And definitely won't share with his dear sibling-in-law. You grabbed Alfred the cat and made your way past their little cartoonish dust battle, passing Alfred who didn't look too happy about the fight.

You rounded the corner and started running, holding poor Alfred the cat in your arms like a little baby. You slowed down once you saw Tim holding the cookie jar. He was about to open it when Duke appeared from behind him with Steph. “Heeeyyy! Whatcha got there?”

You narrowed your eyes and placed little Alfred the cat down and dashed forward. “Uh, nothing?” Tim shrugged a shoulder as he closed the lid with an awkward smile. He gasped once the jar was snatched from his hands.

“Son mías!” You laughed, a little evil Stich laugh.

“Hey!”

You rounded the corner and pressed your palm to the wall. The wall parted and you dashed forward, bricks closing in and paint sealing the entrance. Tim grunted as he followed after you. “Oooh, a race?” Steph giggled and stretched her hand to her side, slapping Duke in the stomach, “Whoever finds the cookie jar first gets to eat it all!” She yelled before rushing after Tim.

Duke grunted, holding his middle. “I think the cookies will be long gone by then.”

The walls opened and you settled into the bed. The walls closed in, the paint re-sealing the secret passage. You laughed as you opened the cookie jar. You took one out and was about to take a bite when a little moo and meow was heard. You turned your head and smiled, lowering the cookie.

Still stuck in adrenaline you said, “Hola, bebés.”

“Share.” You gasped, clutching the cookie jar, wrapping your legs around it, and bringing your knees close. Damian stood at the other side of the bed. He either found a secret passage or he was that damn sneaky. You'll take the second one.

“Pero—”

“Hubi,” you pressed your lips into a thin line. You sighed and relaxed your legs and arms. You placed the cookie jar next to you as he climbed on. You turned to the two animals and gestured them over. They slowly made their way to you as you took a bite of the cookie.

“We should do this more often.” You say, petting Batcow as Alfred the cat jumps on Damian's bed.

“Agreed, habibti.” He smirked, he had definitely struck a few blows on his family. You shrugged, looking at the half biten cookie in your hands.

“I wonder if he has a tracker inside the cookies.”

“That's too extreme even for him.” He says, petting Alfred the cat who snuggled on his lap. He looks at you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Eh, las cosas qué uno hace por la comida.” You said before biting the rest of your cookie. Damian smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist, caressing the extra fat there.

He lifted his head and you turned to look at him, grabbing another cookie from the jar. “True, you did marry me back at Nanda Parbat after my mother held a dinner for us.”

You scoffed, turning your head the other way. “That is absurd. Yo nunca me casé contigo solo por la comida.”

“Then why are you speaking Spanish, amada?” He teased, leaning in and kissing your cheek with a cheeky smile. You turned your head to him, licking your lips.

You pouted, “Porque yo puedo?”

“That sounded like a question.” He chuckled, kissing just beneath your eye. You smiled, scrunching your nose. “Go on, let's finish these before they come banging on our door.” He lightly squeezed the fat on your side and leaned to kiss the corner of your lips.

“They wouldn't dare.” You say, nuzzling your head against his. He chuckled, leaning against you.

You gasped as you felt the cookie in your hand disappear. “Batcow!” You snap your head to your right and gape at the cow eating your cookie. “No, eso puede ser malo para a tí, corazón!”

Damian panicked as well, getting out of the bed. “Drop it!" He told his pet, his eyes narrowing as he held the cow's muzzle.

“Give us the cookies!” Steph yelled as she slammed the door open.

“Not now!” Damian yelled back.

“Call Alfred, our babies are dying!” You yelled as you held Alfred the cat from biting the cookies that slipped out of the knocked-over cookie jar.

Damian groaned, glaring at you. Steph stepped back and dashed off, “Alfred!”

“You jinxed it, Damian!” You yell, kicking the jar off of the bed as you held Alfred the cat high above your head.

———————————————————————

Incorrect quotes aftermath.

Translations;

"Tirame las aguas." - "Throw me the waters." - Old Mexican slang for watching/looking out.

"Distráelo," - "Distract him,"

"ya casi termino." - "I'm almost done."

"Jason, tirame las aguas," - "Jason, throw me the waters." - Basically saying for him to keep an eye out.

"...si no te apuras te voy a matar!" - "..if you don't hurry I will kill you!"

"Tirame. Las. Aguas!" - "Throw me. The. Waters!"

"...presta atención a la puerta." - '...pay attention to the door."

"...apa—aparentemente," - "...ap-apparently,"

"y nos va a matar." - "and he's going to kill us."

"Después de que te mate yo!" - "After I kill you!"

"Mira, mocoso, hijo del Diablo," - "Look, you brat, son of the Devil," - It sounds better in Spanish, trust.

"como que no sabes? Si te hablo en español todos los días." - "What do you mean you don't know? If I speak to you in Spanish every day."

"Como te atreves!" - "How dare you!" - Pointing at someone is considered rude in some places.

"Tu me respetas—me importa un pepino si sos más grande que yo, jueputa!" - "You respect me—I don't give a damn if you're bigger than me, motherfucker! - Fits Jason, I guess.

"Que te dije que me tiren las aguas!" - "I told you to throw waters at me!" - "I told you to keep an eye out for me!"

"Adiós! Descansa! Dile a los bebés qué los quiero, te amo!" - "Goodbye! Rest! Tell the babies that I love them, I love you!"

"'Perate!" - "Stop!" - Full word for stop is "Esperate"

"Esto es tu culpa!" - "This is your fault!"

"Te dije qué podría hacerlo, hijos de—" - "I told you I could do it, sons of—"

"de vuestro padre hermoso." - "of your beautiful father."

"Ni lo pienses, amor mío!" - "Don't even think about it, my love!"

"Tramposo!" - "Cheater!"

"'Ta bien!" - "Fine!"/"Okay!"

"Pero vámonos qué ya viene el suegro." - "But let's go, that father-in-law is coming."

"Y tu sabes cómo se pone el viejo ese. Baba-in-law nos va a matar pero yo esperó qué te mate primero mientras yo me cómo las demás galletas." - "And you know how that old man gets. Baba-in-law is going to kill us but I'm hoping that he kills you first while I eat the rest of the cookies." - "Baba" = "Father" in Arabic.

"Aguas!" - "Waters!" - "Watch out!"

"Corre, hijo de puta!" - "Run, son of a bitch!"

"Son mías!" - "They're mine!"

"Hola, bebés." - "Hi, babies."

"Pero—" - "But—"

"Hubi," - "My love," in Arabic gender-neutral version, I think.

"...habibti," - "My love," Female version in Arabic, 100% know. Gotta add the 't'!

"Eh, las cosas qué uno hace por la comida." - "Eh, the things one does for food."

"Yo nunca me casé contigo solo por la comida." - "I never married you just for the food."

"...amada." - "Beloved." - Female version - "Amado" for male

"Porque yo puedo?" - "Because I can?"

"No, eso puede ser malo para a tí, corazón!" - "No, that can be bad for you, sweetheart!"

Tell me if I missed any.

[temporarywelcome]

Menace - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Peter's lovely girlfriend has super strength, and the clingy speedster wants to use that for the cutest thing

WARNINGS: some swearing

A/N: mention of a cell phone tower so modern AU

________

“Please please please please pleaaaaase,”

Y/N looked up from her book, giving her boyfriend a look, “You’re insane,”

Peter grinned, sitting himself in the chair next to her, sitting with his stomach pressed against the backboard of the chair, arms around it, because he could never just sit normally, “It’ll be so cool though! Please please please please please please please-”

“I’m not going move the whole cell tower, everyone will hate me. And for what? So you can get a few giggles?”

“A lot, actually,” he shot back, scooting the chair closer to her’s, “It’ll make me happy. Don’t you want to make your boyfriend happy?”

“Yes, with gifts and shit, not crimes,”

“The crime can be a gift,”

“No,” she looked down at her book, ignoring her boyfriend’s pout. Peter scooted until his chair hit hers, resting his chin on her shoulder as he pouted some more. “A cute pout isn’t going to get you shit,” 

Peter huffed, tapping on her shoulder next, silently demanding to be looked at. She groaned, turning her head to gaze into his sad, sad big brown eyes, glossy and innocent like a puppy’s. “Please?” he whispered, bottom lip jutted out.

Not the big brown eyes. Not the fucking big brown eyes.

‘Whatever you say, gorgeous. Whatever you say, gorgeous,’ She was practically chanting in her head, but she refrained from saying such words out loud, “No,”

Peter’s shoulders slumped dramatically, “Fine fine fine-” his eyes lit up, an idea forming, “I know another way you can use those powers for me…”

“No crimes,”

“No crimes,” he stood up excitedly, yanking her to her feet, “Pick me up!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Peter rolled his eyes, “Turn around. I want a piggyback ride,” 

Y/N’s lips curled into a soft smile, “I mean, that’s better than removing a whole cell tower…” 

Peter nodded, “Yeah, so turn around. I always have to give other people piggyback rides because of the fact I’m so fast and awesome, but no one has ever given me one, except my mom till I was like, six.” 

Y/N hesitantly turned around, “Well, I have the ability to hold your weight, but y’know I don’t have that speed like you do. Or stamina…” 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he clambered onto her back with a soft giggle, arms going around her neck, “I always see dudes give their girlfriends piggyback rides. It’s unfair. What about us?” he asked dramatically.

“Biology?” Y/N suggested, hands going behind his thighs to steady him on her back, “Luckily for you, your girlfriend is a freak.” 

“You’re not a freak,” he nuzzled into her as she began walking, “Your super strength is so hot,”

“Is it now?” Y/N laughed.

“Yes. It so is,” he suddenly pouted again, “Go faster!”

“Shit,” she groaned, starting a slow jog. “I’m going to die,”

Peter rolled his eyes, grip around her tightening, “No you’re not. My super hot girlfriend is super strong,”

“But I have zero stamina!” 

“Maybe this will help build stamina,” he replied, basically saying he didn’t give a shit. So she pushed through, continuing to jog with him on her back.

This was the worst experience ever, she really needed to run more. But at least he’s happy, giggling like a little kid in her ear. Oh, how she wished she could see his face right now. Peter Maximoff had the absolute cutest smile.

If there was one thing she enjoyed most in the world, it was making her boy happy.

“I can be like a physical trainer,” he continued, “Soon you’ll be sprinting with your lovely boyfriend on your back. Marathon running with me.”

“That’s such bullshit!” Y/N laughed softly. 

“You wouldn’t know till you try. Every day now, you have to go on a jog while carrying me,” he decided, “And then we have to cuddle right after,” 

“I mean, that part doesn’t sound too bad,”

“That’s only if you complete the route,” he added.

“Oh, so there’s routes now? Where does this route end?”

“Hmmmmm, there,” he pointed at a tree, which Y/N ran to quickly, just wanting this to end. She halted in front of the tree and Peter got off of her back, “That was so much fun!”

“Really?” she laughed. He’s given her her own share of piggyback rides, but she never really thought of them as such an experience. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it a lot. “It never struck me as that entertaining,” 

“That’s because you’re boring,” he plopped down on the grass, looking up at you. His eyes clearly stated sit your ass down.

Y/N took a seat, bracing herself for the attack coming from the big cuddle bug next to her. Peter grinned, throwing his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. She laughed, rubbing his back, “You’re so clingy,”

“Is there a problem?” he huffed playfully, nuzzling his nose against her skin, “I just love my girlfriend,”

“Your girlfriend loves you too, unfortunately,” 

He playfully gasped at her, pulling his head away so he could look up at her, “What do you mean unfortunately? Am I not the literal best thing to happen to you? Possibly the best thing to happen to everyone?”

“Best thing to happen to everyone,” she repeated skeptically., “My boyfriend is so humble too,” 

Peter giggled softly, biting her neck like the little brat he was, “I love you,”

“Love you too, you monster,”

After that, Peter made sure to take advantage of his girlfriend’s strength. He would constantly demand piggyback rides, among other things. One of his new favorite activities is to ambush her at the worst possible moments, like when she was having a conversation with others.

He would yell her name from afar and she would turn, just to see him barreling towards her. He would then tackle her, arms around her neck, legs around her waist. At that moment, she would abandon whatever conversation she was having, priority immediately shifting to what matters most.

Him.

“You’re a menace,” she would say with a laugh, arms going around his waist to keep him from falling.

And he would just giggle like a little kid, playfully bumping her nose with his own, “That’s just what you’re into,”

______

sorry this is kind of shit... might rewrite after actually sleeping a good 8 hours

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ Only. Warnings: Semi-sexual content, language, reference to violence.

My very first Homelander fic! If you'd like to read more of my stuff, read on.

Masterlist One

Masterlist Two

Masterlist Three

Part Two: Listen To Me

He’s frustrated

He clenches his fists until the seams feel tight — ready to burst. 

Every word that comes out of Deep’s mouth brings him closer to burning right through his stomach. 

This should have been over. 

All of it.

 Everyone should be on their fucking knees for him. This whole goddamn place belongs to him — he is in charge. 

Something twists into his chest, a swelling feeling choking him. His lungs felt tight, straining with every slow breath he tried to take. They’re going to pop. His lungs are going to explode. Way to discover how he can die, don’t ya think? 

The Great Homelander — killed by his fucking lungs. 

“- I don’t think that. I know it.” Sage’s voice dragged him out of his head. At least as out of his head as he can get. 

“Homelander-” 

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” He hisses between clenched teeth. He felt small and cold, wishing he had someone to hang on to. 

Which frustrated him more — and left him feeling wrong inside. 

He shouldn’t want to hang on to anyone. He’s the world’s greatest Superhero. There is nothing he can’t do, nowhere he can’t go yet now everything is Up in flames.

He needs to focus on the fire and watch the smoke choke out the weak-minded assholes. 

“This is over. Done.” Everyone looks at him. He hears Ashley’s heart beat faster, skipping when his eyes turn to hers. Sweat Collects at her temple, dripping from her God-awful wig. 

Burn it off. 

He could. 

Laser her from the fake roots and down. He’d love to watch her face melt around the heat, brain matter leaking onto the floor. That might make him feel better.

On a spin, he turns away from them. His quick steps are loud in the large room. He leaves, not bothering to close the door behind him. 

The council room falls away behind him. Each step slaps against the floor. Each step, every push from his heel to the balls of his feet drags heavier, weighing down the urge to fly. 

Voices murmur through the Walls, his eyes catching employees huddled around desks and one coupling in a closet. 

He stops at his door. 

Home. 

What’s fucking home? The place that tortured him, that created him where he realized he wasn’t real; that John wasn’t real. 

This should be his home. Right here. It holds his bed, his clothes, and his secret stuffed animal. 

It should be Ryan’s home, too.

If Ryan is there. 

His son, who would rather run to Butcher — a fucking piece of shit — than be with his father. 

Home? 

Who the fuck knows what that is?

A light flickers in the back of his mind, the reminder of fingers in his air and a crooning voice on the radio. 

His frustration flares in his chest. He’s trying to remember the address — the memory hazy, lost in the clouds. 

Should he change his clothes? 

A red shirt with a navy blue jacket, jeans that squeezed his crotch, and a baseball hat. 

Home.

-

The door still had your stupid sign hanging from the same hook. It is a piece of wood painted black with blood splatter words announcing a ‘haunting’ inside. He stared at it for an hour the first time he stood at your doorstep. He ordered you to get rid of it.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

The doorbell is broken, no sound signaling it’s gone off no matter how many times he pushed it.

Homelander knocks after he breaks the glowing button. 

Grinding his teeth, he impatiently raps his knuckles against the wood.

He hears movement. 

Homelander knocks harder. 

He squirms where he stands, shifting from foot to foot. A tingle of anxiety trickles down his chest.

“Dammit, where are — oh.” that’s what he came for. 

Your voice.

His raps went faster. One, two, three until a line cracks the wood when he brings his fist down. That stops him, and the shuffling he hears behind the door.

“Alright,” it swings open, “Fucking hell, dude.” 

The smell of weed rolled from the house, clogging his nose. 

You pause, looking up at him. Your eyes are red, drooping as your head tilts to the side, eyebrows raised into your hairline. It’s been months, maybe a year, since he’s been here. It was before the shit show that was Soldier Boy; he remembers that. 

Your hair is different. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” You leaned against the door, propping it with your foot and resting your temple against it. You play with your hair, wrapping it around a finger before tugging and letting go.

“Yes.” He steps forehead. Your other hand coming up to take a drag keeps him still.

The smoke puffs in his face when you release it.

“Come on,” You don’t wait for him to follow, turning around and walking back into the house, “You’re always welcome here.”

Every sentence you say has an edge—something that makes his skin itch. He wants you to talk to him with respect. He should punish you for the attitude and sarcasm and keep you from ever speaking again.

He’s the Homelander. Who are you to treat him this way? 

The living room is unfamiliar. The couches are new and the set up rearranged. There are blankets and pillows scattered around the room. One deep red one hanging over the back, three pillows nestled into the edges of the couch. Another blanket, a soft black, hangs on the arm. 

A group of pillows rests on the floor, stuffed animals tucked into between them. There’s an open spot in the middle made for sitting. 

Tossed over the coffee table is another blanket.

This one is familiar. 

Another red blanket that Homelander knows feels amazing on his skin. 

“What can I do for you, John?” 

He never hears that name.

Except, he heard it from the doctors. From the ones who watched him from behind glass, who pressed buttons and laughed at his pain. 

Doctors he left to rot in the bad room.

You’d settled on the couch, feet curled beneath you. His eyes track your shorts as they curl up, showing the edge of your underwear. 

His mouth dries. 

“I-” You move, dropping one leg to the floor and stretching the other leg out. 

He aches to crawl into the space and curl up, let you stroke his hair, and call him your good boy. 

“Come here.” That drags a gasp from him, his feet moving without thought. 

The couch is deep and warm, and his knees sink into the cushions. You spread your legs more, bending your knee to cradle his back. 

“I saw you on TV.” There it is.

The voice he needs. 

He’ll swear he sees the magic swirl in the air when your words leave your mouth. It tickles his ears and dives into him to wiggle into place around his brain. It grounds him 

One sentence has his mind slowing down. The ever-spinning thoughts froze for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah?” He tucked his feet into the crease of the couch. 

“Hey, shoes off, Mister.” You popped the side of his head.

He toes them off. 

“You were in a commercial. I didn’t quite pay attention. I focused on you only. You did an amazing job, and your smile was breathtaking. You know what, though?” The hand you slid into his hair stopped. A sharp tug pulled his head back.

Oh no.

“What?” 

“You’re selfish.” 

Homelander whimper. 

He is inherently selfish. 

A selfish man who takes and takes and takes. 

They raised him, no they created him to do. Take the pain, endure the hunger, sit the silent nights with nothing but his thoughts. 

Your fingers move from his hair down his neck, over his shoulders to rest on his arm. He focused on the heat from your hand, the weight of it. It holds him down and makes his stomach loosen. 

He presses closer to you. 

You smell the same. Musky, heady, acidic. It’s uniquely you, a smell he could pick out anywhere. 

He thinks of burying his face between your legs. To lick the taste until it coats his mouth and stains his teeth.

It’s his favorite. 

“You always want things. Always need more.” The drop of your voice made his back straighten. “Did you come to me to be selfish, John?”

Did he? 

He did. 

He wants to stop being Homelander. He wants to be  — he wants—to be John. 

John is a real person  

Homelander is not. 

Homelander is a god. 

“Yes.” Always answer honestly, John, “I did.” 

You hum, repeating the stroking pattern. His hair, his neck, his shoulder, and starts again.

He hones in on the movement — how he turns into butter in your hands. 

Your voice washes over him, rolling him on the waves to drag him down. It’s warm, flowing into his chest, heated, liquid fire that wraps around. 

“Look how sweet you are.” That rocks him, spinning his mind. It mixes with his blood. The flames cause sparks to tingle his fingers, making his knees weak. His toes curl, pressing deeper into the couch.

You’re whispering over him, hand following the same path repeatedly. It makes his stomach warm, kindling the fire in his lungs. He slows his breathing, feeling his heartbeat calm. 

There’s still a rocking feeling in his head. It sways him back and forth and makes his eyes water. 

He feels safe. 

Your hand pauses, and he whines, pitiful, a pitched noise that grates his ears. When your leg moves, he turns around, sliding his hand beneath your body to wrap around you. His other arm curled up, tucking under his chin to rest his weight on you. 

You chuckle, “Baby boy.” 

Your leg moves again, sliding between his. Your knees press into his thighs.  

Homelander folds his leg at the knee. He nestles into your chest, his nose sliding along your neck. When your hand moves to his knee, fingers loosely holding his leg. 

He can feel your pulse, the rush of your blood. You breathe beneath him.

In and out.

It’s your source of living and powers your ability to whisper in other ears to make them feel.

He wonders what you’d sound like choking to death. 

It’d be easy for him to slide his hand up, dig his fingers into your throat, and watch your eyes bulge; veins bursting, tears streaming down your face. You wouldn’t be able to control him then. He’d never grapple with the fact he let you control him. 

The only person he gives himself to. 

He hates you. 

He’s lying

You kiss his forehead, a press of your lips. His heart skipped, stomach flipping. It is rare for you to kiss him. To feel your lips against him, moving with him. He’s seldom allowed to lick your words from your mouth. 

He has to earn kisses.

His core heats, sending flames down his thighs. He bites back a groan but presses himself closer to your leg. You hum again, a lower noise, letting out a sigh that dampens his hairline. 

The groan he let out was impossible to fight. 

He wants to take your breath away, suck the air from your lungs. You should only breathe for him, into him. You belong to him. 

“Want to tell me why you’re upset, Baby boy?” 

Yes.

 He shakes his head. 

“John,” your voice is sharp, sticking, icy, dripping into his ears, “What have I told you?” 

He flinches. “Liars are bad boys.” 

“Exactly. Now, do you want to talk about it?” 

The ice floods his veins. “Everything is going wrong. It’s all falling apart and I’m losing control. Every step I take is wrong, crumbling the fucking world around me. Sage is a bitch. Deep is a useless fucking idiot. I found out A-train is fucking us over. The only thing that resembles a good thing is when the ridiculous Firecracker woman revealed she’s lactating.” 

He catches his breath and opens his mouth, but stops and whines into his arm.

You gently shush him.

“Tell me about that.” Your nails scratch his ear, squeezing his lobes with a soft tug. “Did you feed from her? Suck her dry? I bet you latched on quicker than a newborn and suckled until there was nothing left. I bet,” Your voice changed, turning softer, “She murmured sweet nothing at you and cradled you. Praise you.”

Every word has his head spinning. The memory of being wrapped in Firecracker’s arms flickered to life. He could feel her nipple between his teeth, the way she rocked him back and forth. He drank for what felt like a lifetime. 

Craves more. 

“Answer me, John.” 

He notches his hips and rocks them against your leg until you’re pinching his ear and moving out of the way. He whimpers, lips trembling, his cock aching and heavy between his legs. His hips jerk forward again, searching for your leg, for the cushion, anything to give him friction. 

“Selfish boys don’t deserve to be hard.” The ice returns. It freezes him, numbing his fingers. His eyes burn, tears threatening to fall. 

He wants the warmth back. 

“Yes. Yes. I was selfish. I took until there was nothing left and have every night since. I’m sorry. I’m selfish.” He curls in on himself, tucking his legs as close to his body as he can. 

“Oh Baby boy,” It comes out smooth like silk. It drapes across his body. 

He rocks back with a moan. 

“I’m not angry, John.” It spread along him, reaching for his hands and tucking around his body. 

It’s almost drowning him.

“You’re not?” His voice is small. His mind slowed, the thoughts scattered around like blocks knocked over sliding into a box.

He thinks of sitting in the middle of his floor, legs crossed, looking out his window, and thinking of grass beneath his feet. It reminds him of the times they’d bring him outside. The rare times they allowed him to run as fast and as far as he could. The first time he flew, flying higher and higher until he swore he’d break the sky. Such few memories make him happy.

The memories he has, the ones that spin in his mind? They’re tinged gray, dark, painted in shadows. They’re all a time in his life when he realized they made him to be a tool for someone else. 

He remembers a time before he was The Homelander, Vought’s golden boy: the most powerful superhero. 

“No, Baby Boy. You sought pleasure. Why would I ever be angry about that? I want you to tell me the truth, Sweetheart. Good boys don’t tell lies, do they?” 

“No.” You laugh and it sinks into him until he lets go and floats.

You’re the only thing he can feel, smell, hear, hell, even taste. Your arms are his haven. Your voice is his drug, A secret addiction. 

This is his escape and he’ll return to it anytime he wants. Anytime he needs it. 

It’s why he keeps you safe.

Keeps you away from everyone. 

I mean, he thinks, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Save the fucking people.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Warm.” It slurred, slipping off his tongue with ease. He tastes the sweet flavor of a milkshake on his tongue. 

You chuckle again, moving your leg back down for him to rest against. He waits for his cock to ache again, to thrust forward and fuck against you 

That urge is gone.

He wants to fall asleep and listen to you murmur above him. Would you sing to him? Something he doesn’t know, but every word makes sense because it’s coming from you. 

“Will you sing to me?” 

“Of course.” Your chest rumbles, his eyes growing heavy.

He listens to the words, rolling off your tongue to drape over him. He settles into it, sinking deeper and deeper until he’s cacooned. Your singing dragging him beneath the surface to float away.

[riowritesitall]

Let’s make a bet

Christopher Sturniolo x Reader x Nathan duo

Request:Yes/No

Warnings:smut blindfold, bondage threesome

A/n: English is not my first language so be nice to me, please.(also this is not proofread) I know it not that good but I was having really bad cramps and my period just started so I was trying to get done as possible.

words count : 2,286

Synopsis: Chris and Nate make up bet on who can make you come faster.

One week ago

(Chris's POV)

You are so Fucking bad at this game bro” Nate yelled through the headset as we lost again

“Fuck off dude the last 4 games you die first at least I can last more than 5 min,” I said as we loaded the next game up. Trying not to yell with my girlfriend in my bed behind me.

“Well at least I can last longer the 5 min in bed” Nate snapback

“Yeah right and when was the last time you were in bed with someone I bet you can't even make a girl cum ” I say as the game finally starts

“I bet I can make your girl cum faster than you can,” he says back with a chuckle

“You want to bet,” I said as I looked over at my girlfriend sleeping on the bed

“Let's make a bet if she's up to it next week when I see you guys in la if I can make her cum faster that I can have a night with her and you can say anything,” he says the game slowly being forgotten

“You know what nathen fine as long as she says yes but if when I win you have to watch me fuck her with your hands tied up,” I say shaking my head

“Deal Christopher Deal ask her now,” Nate says

“Fine,” I say as I turn around in my char seeing that she is still asleep “Hey ma” I see well softly kissing and shaking her

“What's wrong baby” she said half asleep

“I need to ask you a favor,” I say as I stroke her thigh

“ just ask Chris,” she says as she snuggles into my neck

“So Nate and I were talking and we came up with a bet on who could make you cum the fastest if he wins he gets to have his way with you but if I win he has to watch me fuck you with his hands tied up,” I say as I feel her to clench her thighs together

“I can feel you clenching your thighs do you like that idea, pretty girl huh,” I ask before I hear her wine

“Hey pretty girl you know the rules when I talk to you I expect you to use your words,” I say as I grab her jaw making her look at me

“Yeah Chris is ok with it,” she says looking me in my eyes

“Ok'll let him know ma,” I say letting go of her jaw and walking over to my desktop

“She said yea Nate,” I say once I put my headphones back on

“I know I heard her sluty little noise,” Nate said bake at me

“Ok whatever ever man be ready to lose next week,” I say as I go to hang up the call

Present day

(Your pov)

I was sitting in the back seat next to my boyfriend Chris slowly falling asleep on him “Why Nate had to get a plane at 3 am I don't know” I thought to myself. His brothers Matt and Nick get out to help Nate put his stuff in the back. Nate sits in the seat next to me as Matt and Nick get back into the car.

“Are you cold Nate?” Chris said as he lifted the blanket that was on our laps so he could move under it.

Thanks, bro he said as he moved closer to me. Just as I was about to fall back asleep I felt 2 hands on my thighs one from Nate and one from Chris. I felt Chris slowly pull down my sweats and panties

“ make sure to stay quiet sweat girl’ Nate whispers in my ear as he starts to rub my clit with his thumb

“You better not cum in till we get home and the competition begins mama do u understand,” my boyfriend says as he slowly pumps two fingers in and out of me

“I think he asked you a question pretty girl answer him now,” Nate said pushing hard on me

“Yes I understand sir,” I say quietly out of breath

“Good girl,”l Chris says as he speeds up the pace

“Too much too much I'm going to cum” I whimper out as both boys go fast and hard before weather boy could say something Matt asks if the three of us what to go home when Nick and he go get galoshes for the week

“Yeah thanks, bro I'm sleepy,” Nate says as pulls his hand away from me

“Ok,” he says he says as he pulls onto our street

“Thank you, Matt,” I say as I unbuckle the Seat belt

“Yeah thanks, dude,” Chris says getting out of the car after Matt parks

As soon as we get into the house I'm shoved up against the door with lips shoved up against mine

“Ok bro calm down the game has not even started yet can you at least wait in till we get up stares to make out with my girlfriend,” Chris says pushing past us in order to lock the door

“Sorry man but iv been waiting all week to taste her and you have her any time you please,” Nate says getting off of me and dragging me up to my and Chris’s room by my arm

“So how are we going to do this” Chris says entering the room after us

“I was thinking that we both eat her out with a timer to see who makes her cum the fastest,” Nate says slmoving a hand up my shirt as we sit on Chris’s bed.

“I like that idea but I think that we should blind her so that she knows who it is can't change the time,” Chris says smacking nates hand away from me

“Good idea Christopher go get something,” Nate says going bake under my shirt

“The only reason you want me to get it is so that you can feel me girlfriend up don't act smart little boy,” he said getting up and grabbing a bandana

“Are you at with this baby girl” nate says as he plays with my nipples

“Yea it ok” i say in a shaky breath

“Good” I hear Chris say as ties the bandanna over my eyes

I feel a hand slowly guide me to lay down on the bed and another one slowly take my pants and panties off. right as I get comfortable in the bed, I feel a tongue lick up my folds and two hands wrap around my thighs, keeping me in place. The tongues, lots of slowly go up and down, making me moan and grab the sheets beneath me. I feel the tongue slowly start to circle my clit and two fingers enter me going in and out at a painfully slow pace. The tongue slowly started to go faster as well as the fingers as they started to curl at just t the right spot. I could feel the knot in my stomach slowly start to form as I start letting out loud whiny moans

“Are you about to cum pretty girl” i hear a voice say from in between thighs I let out a shaky moan before I feel a smack all the inside on my thigh

“I asked you a question I expect an answer sweetheart” the voice says

“Yes yes” I yell as I get closer and closer

“Go ahead baby” he said right before I cum

“Five minutes” I hear a voice from next to me say

“Think you could do better than that”, the voice from in between my thighs, says as I feel him getting up

“Yeah, much better”. The Voice from next to me, says as he moves to my thighs.

Just as I was about to move, I feel a new set of hands on my thighs, slowly, kissing up to my soaked heat. Sucking hickeys as he slowly pings his thumb up to my clit. I felt the thumb slowly circle my clit as I felt a tongue enter me. The tongue slowly started to go faster and faster as the thumb was replaced by his nose stimulating my clit. I reached down to grab his hair when I felt the knot and my stomach slowly started to grow again. when I grabbed his hair, I could feel the person in between my thighs, let out a moan which made a vibration that made me snap.

“5 minutes and 5 seconds I win Christopher” somebody says next to me that I now know was Nate as he takes off my blindfold

“Fuck Ma you couldn’t have been five seconds faster” my boyfriend says from in between my thighs when I look at him.

“No, you don’t gotta talk to her. I win so you can sit in the chair in the corner and wait” I hear Nate say before he stands up

“Fine whatever” Chris says. He walked over and sits in his gaming chair.

I watch Nate as he slowly walks over to Chris’s closet and grabs one more bandanna. before he walks over to Chris standing in front of him.

“What are you doing with those?” Chris says, pointing at the two bandannas

“I’ve decided that you don’t get to touch yourself when you watch me destroy your girl” Nate says before tying Chris his hands to the arms of the gaming char

“That’s not fucking fair dude that was my bet not yours” Chris says trying to break from the restraints

“Well, maybe if you didn’t lose, you would be the one tying me up right now” Nate says chuckling as he slowly walks towards me

“Hey pretty girl are you ready to be fucking destroyed as your boyfriend watches?” he says before starting to suck on my neck. I bring my hand up to my mouth to try and muffle my sounds

“No don’t hide your pretty sounds for me. Let your boyfriend hear how much of a slut you are getting off to your boyfriend’s best friend” he says, ripping my hand from my mouth

“Can I take this off baby” he says, tugging on the rim of my shirt

“Yes Nate” I say before I feel my shirt over my head

“Good girl” he says, turning me around

“Now I want you to look at your boyfriend while I fuck you do you think you could do that for me pretty girl? he says as he slowly moves my hips up and loves his fingers up and down my folds.

“Yea” I say with a moan

“You’re so wet I don’t even think I need to prep you. What a slut.” he says, as I hear him unzip his pants. I feel him slowly enter me before quickly going in and out. I start to moan when I feel him grab my hair and pulled me back so that my back is against his chest. I can see the tent slowly starting to grow in my boyfriend‘s pants as I moan out his best friends name. Nate quickly starts to suck hickeys into my neck again as he raps his hand around my body and starts to choke me roughly.

“Fuck please let me out Nate please” Chris as he shoves his hips into the air

“Did I say you could fucking talk Chris I don’t think I did” he says, picking up the pace behind me, reaching my hand down to play with my nipple while the other one continues to choke me as I let out whiny high-pitched moans.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum” I say as his movements start to get sloppy

“You better not” he says, shoving me onto the bed and moving me to be on the floor in front of Chris

“Take his pants off mama” he says, shoving my head into Chris’s clothed crotch

I move my hand up to slowly take his sweats and boxes off, and that my hand around his hard cock slowly moving up and down while I suck on his red tip. before I could take all of him, I feel Nate shows back in to me. which makes me deep throat Chris.

“Fuck just like that mama good girl” Chris says in a high-pitched moan

I feel nates hand, go down to pitch my clit before I let out a muffled moan against Chris. I feel Nate gets sloppy again before I hear him say” just a little longer baby I want you to come with me.”

I proceeded to suck Chris off as I feel that not my stomach start to grow more and more. Before I pulled off of Chris and moan. “ i’m about to cum”

“Me too” Chris says from above me buckle his hips back up into my mouth

I feel Nate grown as his warm cum shoots me and our I follow shortly after. Before I feel Chris shoot his cum down my throat

I feel Nate pick me up and lay me on the bed before going to untie Chris and helping him walk down next to me.

I watch as he goes to the bathroom and gets a washcloth, wiping both of us down

“You did so good”” my boyfriend says stroking my hair

As Nate goes to get us some clothes and water

“Yeah, she was perfect” he says as he returns putting the boxers and T-shirt on me and the water on the nightstand next to me. Before helping helping Chris put his clothes on and getting into bed beside me.

“Good night baby” Chris says in to my chest as the 3 of us cuddle to sleep

Hope you enjoyed

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