#he makes you call your parents on occasion so they know you’re doing well

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((again) again) , I wrote this for all of you :D Big thanks to both @zanarkandskylines and @a-had-matter for beta reading this- your support means the world to me😭 Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): f!reader, Bakugou and reader are dating, meeting his parents for the first time, mentions of anxiety, reader’s a procrastination queen, Bakugou’s whipped lmao, characters might be a little ooc, Mitsuki loves reader loll, Masaru and reader are the real besties here though, mentions of getting married, Katsuki calls reader baby, slight cursing.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Girlfriend!Reader

•───•°•❀•°•─── ʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ, ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ ───•°•☁︎•°•──•

To say you were nervous was an understatement. 

A week prior, your loving boyfriend of 3 months had invited you to have dinner with him and his parents, as they “were up his ass to meet you” (his words, not yours). You giggled originally, finding amusement in his lament about his overbearing parents, but you knew he loved them from the lack of malice in his words. And yet, after an entire week, only now, three hours before Bakugou would come to pick you up, did the full realization of the situation hit you like a truck.

You were going to meet his parents. 

You flitted around your room, trying to find something to wear, your entire closet seemed repulsive to you now- nothing seemed right for the occasion. 

You groaned, your attention piquing when you see a text come in. Flopping down onto your bed, you pick your phone up, reading the message.

Katsu🧡💥: Oi, the old hag wanted me to let you know that she’s making curry. That okay for you?

You feel butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from his thoughtfulness, even though small gestures like this should seem normal to you now. It probably never would, the explosive male you had grown to love would never cease to get you flustered. 

You: Okay! Sounds great! I bet you get your cooking skills from her ;)

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dummy

Katsu🧡💥: Have you picked something out to wear yet?

You deadpan, knowing he would scold you for procrastinating, but you sigh, there was no point in lying to him. Even over text, he would know if you were telling the truth or not. 

You: So about that... 

Katsu 🧡💥: Baby, they’re not going to think less of you based on your outfit. Plus, you could wear a damn cardboard box and you’d still look hot. They’ll love you, so quit your panicking. 

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, but Bakugou’s rough but caring words didn’t help your predicament. 

You: Thank you, Katsuki- but I seriously can’t find anything 😭 What do I do??

You can practically see his eyes rolling through the three dots that dance across the screen.

Katsu🧡💥: You’re lucky I know you so well- bought you a new sweater this morning. I’ll come over early and drop it off for you.

You: Katsuki thank you so much!!! You didn’t have to though...

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dumbass, I’ll be there in 30 mins, go do what you gotta do in the meantime. 

You smile at that, warmth pooling in your heart as you set your phone down on the side table, standing up from your bed and grabbing a towel before heading to your bathroom to take a shower. 

***

Katsuki’s already there, waiting for you by your kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, before looking up at you with your hair wrapped in a towel to prevent it from dripping everywhere, along with another to clothe your body. 

You smile happily, giggling as his nose scrunches when you press your dewy skin against him in a hug.

“Oi, get off of me,” he grumbles “Yer still all wet.”

You giggle, knowing he doesn’t mean it when he encircles you in his arms, inhaling the scent of your body wash. He places a small kiss atop the crown of your head before, reaching behind him to grab the bag on his counter, handing it to you.

“Here baby, got yer sweater for ya.” he says, watching as your eyes light up after rummaging through the contents. 

You squeal happily, planting a kiss on his cheek before running back into your bedroom, knowing exactly what to pair with the article of clothing.

“Thanks Katsuki!! Give me like 30 minutes!” you chirp, before disappearing into your bedroom. 

He chuckled under his breath, and ran his fingers over the thin gold chain you bought for him for your “one-week-aversary" (your words, not his). Originally, he had scoffed at you, wondering why you would spend your money on him for something so trivial, but you just brushed it off, grinning saying “It’s not trivial Katsuki! This is my way of showing my love!” You were just so cute, he loved you so much it hurts, and yet you both had only been dating for a few months.

You were going to be the death of him, that’s for sure. 

***

After you got ready, you both got into the car, sitting in comfortable silence the entire way, other than the soft music that played from the aux cord. 

Katsuki could tell you were nervous, the way your fingers fiddled with the ribbon surrounding the chocolate you bought for his parents was a dead giveaway. 

And yet, he knew that nothing he would say would alleviate your stress, so he remained silent, knowing your worries would be gone as soon as the old hag got her claws on you. 

The car reaches to a stop in the driveway, and Katsuki almost wants to take out his phone and snap a picture as your eyes grow wide and your lips part by the sheer size of his house.

“Woah...” you breathe, in awe “ I knew your parents were successful, but you never told me they were rich.”

Katsuki flushes, exiting the car and opening the door for you. “S’nothin.” he says, averting his gaze from yours, as if he wasn’t imagining living in a nice house with you in the future. 

You interlock your fingers with his, relishing in the comfort of his calloused fingertips brushing over your knuckles, his hand squeezing yours as a final reassurance before bringing his hand up to aggressively knock on the door. 

“OI HAG OPEN UP!” he yells, only for the door to swing open, revealing a beautiful woman with a striking resemblance to the man next to you. 

“Katsuki Bakugou yell like that one more time and I will-” the woman, who you assume to be Katsuki’s mother, notices you then, all anger directed towards her son melting away once she sets her eyes on you. 

Her scarlet eyes sparkled as they looked over you once over in approval, rushing towards you with a big grin on her face and enveloping you in a crushing hug. You let out a squeak in surprise, but giggled, reciprocating it immediately. Your worries were gone in an instant, just as Katsuki had predicted. 

“Ah, where are my manners! Call me Mitsuki, I’m the brat’s mother.” she says warmly, much to Katsuki’s disdain as he objects to the nickname; Mitsuki ignores him as if he wasn’t there though. 

You laugh at your pouty boyfriend’s reaction and give her your name, smiling back at her like she was an old friend. 

“Masaru! She’s here~!” Mitsuki practically sings, clutching onto your arm, leading you into the kitchen with Katsuki trailing behind like a lost puppy. 

She turns to you again. “So glad you’re here dear, the brat needs someone to keep his head out of his ass.” she says, rolling her eyes for emphasis. 

You snort at that, completely at ease as Mitsuki treats you like the daughter she never had.

You see a timid man in the kitchen, who is most likely Masaru, Katsuki’s dad. 

You both greet each other, the brunette man much calmer than his wife, and he smiles at you and squeezes your shoulder as an awkward show of affection. While you two converse, however, Katsuki is already at war with his mother, both Masaru and yourself just stand by the island silent; you both know the drill. 

“SHUT UP YA OLD HAG- STOP SMOTHERING MY GIRLFRIEND!” Katsuki yells.

“DON’T TALK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT KATSUKI, YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT GIRL IS AN ANGEL FOR STICKING WITH THAT BRATTY ASS OF YOURS.” Mitsuki retorts, irate. 

You and Masaru look at each other, the latter mouthing to you if you wanted to help set the table, to which you nodded vehemently, unsure of what to do as the angry blonde duo continue to yell at each other. 

Setting the table, you and Masaru trade stories of how you’ve both had to wrangle your respective partners to make sure they didn’t murder anyone, the both of you breaking into laughter as he recounts a story of how he once had to physically pick up his wife by the waist and haul her out of an ice cream store because they messed up his order. 

You thought it was completely adorable, seeing how much Katsuki took after Mitsuki, telling Masaru of a similar story of when you and Katsuki went to a carnival, and you got scammed during one of the games. 

Eventually the two blondes calmed down, joining you and Masaru in the dining room, where the food was all plated and ready to be eaten. 

Midway through the conversation, you feel Katsuki’s hand slide over to squeeze yours under the table, a small gesture that you knew meant I told you so.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, enjoying the company of the Bakugous. The night seemed to drag on for ages (his words, not yours), and you found yourself blending in seamlessly in with Katsuki’s parents. And though he would never admit it, it warmed his heart to see someone he loved so much get along so well with his family. Things were going smoothly, until something Mitsuki says catches you off guard. 

“So, when are you going to put a ring on her finger, huh brat?”

[hyunjins3rdleg]

Returning The Favor

I’ve had this on my brain for 2 days and needed to get it out. Maybe yall will think it’s cute too idk lmaoo <3

Pairing: Model!Hyunjin x Assistant Fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing maybe, and I didn’t proof read it lolll *SFW*

WC: 1k+

It’s always Y/N taking care of her spoiled brat client but what about the times when that sweet boy takes care of her when she needs it the most?

Series Masterlist here

When you’re sick he’s making sure you’re not neglecting your health by focusing too much on him. Do you have your medicine? Cough drops? Have you been refilling your water bottle at an appropriate time? Oh, you’re cold? He’s bundling you up in a heated blanket like a little burrito and wiping the snot from your nose if he’s got to just so that you don’t have to unbundle yourself.

Dealing with his schedule AND him definitely gives you headaches so he takes it upon himself to give you shoulder or head massages if it seems to bother you more than usual. These were his favorite moments because it was the rare times he’d have full permission to touch you without fighting for his life with his fist up in defense.

You’re on your period? Oh, he’s at your beck and fucking call! Heating pad on your stomach, your favorite candy or snacks near your hands at all time, and for once the boy is actually quiet. He finds time to paint or game silently in the other room to let you have your alone time, and the best part? He manages to handle his schedule and food all on his own without a single question. His parents would be so proud!

There was this one instance where he insisted on washing your hair for you when you were severely jet lagged. It was an insanely busy week for the two of you with back to back photoshoots, private parties, and God knows how many meetings about potential projects. You’d flown to three different cities in the span of 7 days and to say you were both sleep deprived was an understatement. You’d remember commenting on your head killing you and how tired you were but unable to fall asleep when he’d gotten the bright idea to wash your hair. Of course that was a cure all! So there you were, entertainingly laid across the counter of the hotel suite you’d booked with your head resting in the sink as he massaged away, humming a sweet tune. You slept like a baby with your hair towel wrapped turban style afterwards.

On the rare occasions when his schedule’s completely free and yours aligned up with your friends, you’d have a well deserved girls night out. Most of these nights ended with you yapping about God knows what as Hyunjin prepared you for bed, a duty he’d given himself to settle his own nerves. There was just one instance months ago where you commented on how the uber driver accidentally took a wrong turn and joked about being kidnapped. Now, Hyunjin can’t sleep until he’s picked you up himself and safely returned you back into your shared home where you belong. He was always the perfect gentleman when you were drunk too, that was one thing you could remember the few times you weren’t blackout drunk. He always watched where his hands landed, he turned his back to you when you got undressed for bed, and he would hum politely in response as you talked his head off no matter the conversation, patting your head goodnight as he left you be for the night.

He knows if you get too focused that you may forget to eat. So, there are many times where he’d show up with a grin and your favorite food, plopping them on your desk and having a seat either on the floor or in a chair beside you if one was available.

Hyunjin had a fix for every inconvenience you may encounter and even though you never say anything, you think it’s really sweet. Your hair starts bothering you and you don’t have a hair tie? He keeps an extra one on his wrist at all times; a satin scrunchie specifically to not ruin your beautiful tresses. You lose your lip balm? He has the exact brand you wear in his bag for emergency purposes. You’re pissy because you’ve lost your expensive pen? He’s got a brand new pack in his bag just because of how annoyed you get when you don’t have them. He has everything down to tampons just in case an accident occurs.

Hyunjin would constantly express how thankful he was for your help. He never forgot to say thank you and he always spoke encouragement into you whenever he felt keeping up with his insane schedule was tiring you. Which leads me to believe he’d have no problem spending a check on you.

In this universe I’d think you wouldn’t spend an awful a lot of money on yourself. Of course if you wanted something and could afford it you’d purchase it, but in Hyunjin’s eyes you never spent enough. So, it was often he’d show up with gifts that he just “couldn’t let stay on the shelf” once he spotted it. You currently have a very expensive, gold status membership at a spa because he thinks you deserve to be pampered on his dime.

The most insane thing I’d say he would have done for you was buy you a car. Model!Hyunjin would 100% pay cash to gift you a car and you can’t convince me otherwise. It would’ve been only a few months into your new job when you’ve just barely straightened him out ( Lord knows his reputation had declined tremendously, which is why his parents hired you in the first place) and he’d finally done enough to earn the privilege of handling his own money again. The very first thing that idiot did was buy you a Porsche SUV. He was still an arrogant little shit at the time, so he claimed it was because “a pretty woman associated with me should ride only luxury”.

When the reality was he heard you talking to your mom how you car was on its last leg and you didn’t have the funds to buy anything new just yet.

That man takes such good care of you just as you do for him, and that’s something you wouldn’t be able to deny if asked about. Even if you thought he was the most annoying human being on the planet.

You were the best thing that’s ever happened to him (and his career), that’s one thing both he and his parents could agree on. Hyunjin just hoped he could be that for you too.

**Find My Masterlist Here**

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Lmk if you’d like to be added or removed <3

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[alotofpockets]

Meeting again | Part 1 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.

Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!

Meeting again universe | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?”  Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.

“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him. 

You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf. 

The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen. 

Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain. 

When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”

“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”

When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.

You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.

You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.

Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?

The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.” 

The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad. 

You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son. 

Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.

On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off. 

As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team. 

“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.” 

Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other. 

You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”

You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.

Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”

As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.

You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.

As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.

Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?

You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.

Continue reading part 2!

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[lovrx-s]

Misplaced Priorities

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

Contains: Angst, Rape

You stared at your phone, Jenna’s text lighting up the screen for the fourth time in two weeks.

“Hey, Percy needs me for something. Can we rain check? Love you.”

The dinner reservation you’d been so excited about was now pointless. You looked down at the little black dress you’d carefully chosen, mocking you from where it hung on the closet door.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. What could you even say?

Instead of replying, you dropped your phone onto the bed and sat down, burying your face in your hands. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the now-familiar feelings of rejection and disappointment welled up inside you.

It wasn’t just tonight; this was becoming a pattern. Jenna always had time for Percy. It didn’t matter how much you planned or how much you tried—he was the constant in her life.

You thought back to the first time she canceled on you. It was supposed to be a movie date—a rare day off for her during filming. You’d been excited, even giddy, but then she called.

“I told you, Percy’s my friend!” she snapped when you asked why she couldn’t reschedule with him.

“I know that, but it feels like you’re choosing him over me,” you said, your voice trembling.

“God, Y/N, not everything’s about you! Why do you always make it about you?”

That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

Things only got worse from there. On the rare occasion Jenna did show up, she was late or distracted. One time, you planned a picnic at your favorite park. She arrived two hours late, unapologetic and laughing about something Percy had said earlier that day.

You hated him.

But it wasn’t just because of the time he monopolized. There was something deeper, something Jenna didn’t know.

The Wednesday Season 1 wrap party was supposed to be a celebration. You weren’t much of a party person, but Jenna had convinced you to come.

“Just for a bit,” she’d said, her smile lighting up the dim room. “I want you there with me.”

The music was loud, the lights dim. You clung to Jenna at first, but as the night went on, she drifted off to mingle, leaving you alone. That was when Percy approached you.

“You look tense,” he said, handing you a drink.

You hesitated but accepted, not wanting to seem rude. “Just not much of a party person.”

He laughed. “Come on, loosen up. It’s a celebration!”

The drink was bitter, the alcohol burning your throat. But as the minutes passed, something felt off. Your limbs grew heavy, your vision blurred, and the room spun.

“Hey, you okay?” Percy’s voice was close—too close.

“I… I don’t feel good,” you murmured, your head lolling.

The next thing you remembered was waking up in an unfamiliar room, your clothes disheveled, and Percy sitting on the edge of the bed, smirking.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said casually, as if what he’d done was nothing.

You didn’t tell anyone. Who would’ve believed you? Percy was charming, well-liked. And you were just… you.

*

Jenna’s parents’ anniversary party was supposed to be a celebration, but you felt out of place the moment you walked into the house. Laughter and chatter filled the air as family and friends mingled, but all you could feel was the growing distance between you and Jenna.

She’d barely said two words to you since you arrived, her attention flitting between her parents, siblings, and a dozen other people. You sat quietly in the living room, nursing a glass of water and trying to blend into the background.

After what felt like hours, you slipped outside to the backyard, needing air. The night was cool, the stars above twinkling in the clear sky. You wrapped your arms around yourself, letting the silence soothe your frayed nerves.

“Hey,” Aliyah’s voice startled you.

You turned to see her standing at the patio door, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Mind if I join you?”

You hesitated but nodded.

She walked over, standing beside you. “You’ve been quiet tonight. Actually, for a while now.”

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, your gaze fixed on the stars.

Aliyah gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, Y/N. I know ‘fine,’ and this isn’t it. What’s going on?”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “It’s nothing, Aliyah.”

“Bullshit,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew as tears welled up in your eyes. “I don’t think Jenna and I are okay.”

Aliyah frowned. “Why not? You two are always so solid.”

“Not lately,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “She’s always with Percy. She cancels on me all the time, and when I try to talk to her about it, she shuts me down. She makes me feel like I’m the problem.”

Aliyah’s frown deepened. “That’s not fair to you.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “It’s more than that.”

Aliyah waited, her expression softening.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “At the Wednesday wrap party… he drugged me.” Your voice broke, and you felt tears streaming down your face. “And he… he didn’t stop, even when I begged him to.”

Aliyah’s face hardened, her hands clenching into fists. “Y/N…”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you continued, your voice shaking. “Who would believe me? And Jenna… she’s happy when she’s with him. I couldn’t ruin that for her.”

“She’d want to know,” Aliyah said fiercely. “She’d never choose him over you.”

“She already does,” you whispered. “Every time.”

*

The car ride home was silent. Jenna’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and you stared out the window, the weight of her overhearing your confession pressing down on you like an anchor.

Finally, Jenna pulled over to the side of the road, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t look at her. “What?”

“I heard you,” she whispered. “At the party. I heard what you told Aliyah.”

Your heart sank, the dread settling in your stomach like lead. “Jenna, I—”

“I didn’t know,” she interrupted, her voice breaking. “I didn’t know what he did to you.”

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm. “You didn’t want to know, Jenna. Every time I tried to talk to you about how I felt, you shut me down. You made me feel like I was the problem, like I was asking for too much.”

“I was selfish,” Jenna admitted, tears streaking her cheeks. “I was so caught up in my work and my friendships, I didn’t see what it was doing to you. But I swear, I’ll cut him off. I’ll never speak to him again.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “It’s not just about cutting him off, Jenna. It’s about trust. It’s about priorities. And you… you didn’t choose me.”

Her face crumpled. “I’m choosing you now. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. Just… please, don’t give up on us.”

You turned to her, your voice hollow. “Do you even realize how hard it was for me? Watching you laugh with him, defend him, when I couldn’t even tell you what he did? Do you know what that felt like?”

Jenna reached for your hand, but you pulled away, your throat tight. “I believed in us, Jenna. I loved you enough to stay quiet because I thought your happiness mattered more than my pain. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being second.”

Her lips trembled. “You’re not second. You’ve never been second.”

“Then why does it feel like I am?” you whispered, your voice cracking.

She didn’t have an answer.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You turned back to the window, blinking away the tears that blurred the streetlights outside.

“I need time,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “To figure out if I can forgive you. If I can move past this.”

Jenna’s breath hitched. “Please don’t walk away.”

“I’m not walking away,” you said softly. “But I’m not staying, either. Not until I know it’s safe to.”

Her sobs filled the car as she slumped forward, her hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When the car pulled into your driveway, you stepped out without another word. The sound of the door closing behind you felt like the end of something fragile, something that had once been beautiful but was now irrevocably broken.

You didn’t know if you could piece it back together.

And as Jenna drove away, the red taillights disappearing into the night, you stood there, wondering if you ever really could.

[occasionalsnippets]

I need to know more about fd au reader as robin 🙏 /lh

Main concept

Some assorted miscellany.

If you didn’t think Batman was going to get better, you wouldn’t have allowed Tim to become Robin no matter what. You'd reluctantly give Bruce a B- in parenting. He's not perfect but he's trying which is enough that you're willing to help.

You, through gritted teeth: I know and believe you can be good but this is rotten work, especially to me, especially if it's you, but I'll do it.

Your persona as Robin is carefully curated so that you are almost exactly like Tim. It’ll get annoying if people get confused about there being two different Robins running around at the same time so it’s easier if you just pretend to be the same person. You fill in enough times that putting on the Robin uniform automatically makes you slip into “Tim-Robin” mode which freaks a lot of people out at how uncanny it is.

You can perfectly imitate Tim's voice.

Despite your efforts pretending to be as similar to Tim as possible, it’s not totally perfect, obviously. You’re- a bit scary actually. You make the right quips, make the same distractions and appear to be exactly the same as “normal Robin” but it’s just… something is a little bit off. You’re always watching. Maybe you’re just the Robin that takes after Batman’s demeanor the most.

Part of what adds to the whole “hmm something is up with Robin 3” is that sometimes people will be like “I definitely saw Robin break his arm yesterday so how tf is he okay and patrolling today???”

Tim is still a better detective than you are but you’re no slouch either. You did not squint at gritty photos of crime scenes from three different newspapers and reconstruct doll house versions of them with dollar store craft supplies so you could teach 9-year old Tim how to analyze crime scenes just to become a “mediocre detective”.

During the early Robin 3 days, Batman used to accidentally call you and Tim, Jason. He’s also called you Tim on several occasions.

You take the Robin role during Batman’s “bad days” early on in Tim’s run as Robin because you’re able to handle to worst of it. Batman is… relentless, cold, terribly uncooperative on those days. He didn’t want another Robin and you’re well aware of how he lashes out at the two of you because of it. You don’t want Tim to go through the worst of Batman when being Robin is supposed to be something good. What are you meant to do if not protect him?

Wrangling Batman is difficult. You spend way too much time pulling him aside to say “You need to pull back on your punches. If you land them in the ICU again I will be ending this patrol early.” Although just having a Robin beside him makes things better, it doesn’t mean it’s great by any means. Depending on how much he pissed you off, you enact various punishments upon him such as making all his coffee decaf, helping Alfred make his least favourite foods, shutting down the batcomputer so he can’t work on cases and so on.

Overtime, as Batman gets better, you fill in less often. It's also because around this time you get very busy running Drake Industries.

You get on Commissioner Gordon’s case about how many cigarettes he’s smoking. All these Robins and you're the first to look so disappointed in him.

You have gone on patrol several times and no one noticed it was you and not Tim. It’s funnier not to correct them until you de-mask at the end of the night and reveal that it was you all along.

Sometimes you and Tim just swap in the middle of the night.

At the top of a lot of contingencies, there’s a note that just says “if (Y/n) inexplicably has an answer or solution, believe them and follow what they say”

[insidekatmind]

The meeting with parents - Levi Colwill

The sun was gently filtering through the window curtains of your room, illuminating the dress you had chosen for the day. It was a simple but elegant dress, a light pastel fabric that caressed your skin, highlighting your figure without looking too bold. Perfect for an important occasion: introduce Levi Colwill to your family.

You looked in the mirror, carefully adjusting your hair, as you felt Levi approaching your back. He was there recently, but he seemed to have already settled in too well in your room.

"Wow," he muttered with a mischievous smile, his hands gently sliding over your hips. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" continued as he began to kiss your neck

"Levi..." you sighed, trying to hide a smile as you looked at it reflected in the mirror. "We’re already late, and my mother is waiting for us."

He laughed softly, tilting his head to one side as he kept touching you. "But how can I let you go dressed like that? You look beautiful."

You turned around, trying to keep a firm tone. "Do you promise to behave yourself in front of my parents?"

Levi made a feigned gesture of oath, raising two fingers. "Scout’s honor. But I cannot promise not to look at you with eyes of adoration, even in front of them."

---

When you finally arrived home, your mother greeted you with a warm smile. Levi seemed a little nervous, but he was trying to keep his usual security. Your father, on the other hand, studied it carefully, as if he wanted to understand immediately who this boy was who had captured his little girl’s heart.

"Dad, Mom... this is Levi."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, ma'am," he said, shaking your father’s hand firmly and smiling gently at your mother.

As your mother began a conversation with Levi, your father gave you a meaningful look, as if to say: Let’s see.

---

Levi was doing perfectly. He replied kindly, made light jokes, and seemed genuinely interested in everything your parents said. But every now and then, you felt his gaze upon you. It was as if he could not take his eyes off you, not even for a moment.

When your mother called you in the kitchen to help with lunch, Levi offered to help him too. However, as soon as you were alone, he took advantage of the moment to get too close.

"Levi!" you whisper, trying to maintain a reproach tone as he drew you against the counter.

"What? I was just trying to help you," he said with an innocent smile, but his hands, resting on your hips, told another story.

"You’re impossible," you said softly, trying to get away.

"I know," he admitted, stroking you with a quick kiss on the neck. "But it’s you who make me like this."

"If my father sees us..." you said

"He won’t see us" he said and approached you gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and then moved

---

At the table, Levi continued to impress. Your mother seemed to be captivated by his charm, while your father asked more specific questions, trying to test him a little.

"So, Levi, how do you plan to take care of my daughter?" your father asked in a calm but determined tone.

Levi sat down in his chair, taking a moment to answer. "With respect, sir. And with all the seriousness he deserves. You are the most important thing to me."

You bit your lip, impressed by her response, while your mother nodded in approval.

"Good. I hope you mean it," your father replied, with a slight smile.

"Absolutely," Levi confirmed, giving you a blush-red look.

---

When it was time to go away, your mother embraced Levi warmly, and your father patted him on the shoulder. "Not bad, boy. But remember: I’m always watching."

Levi laughed, but nodded seriously. "I will not disappoint you, sir."

As soon as you were in the car, however, the composed and respectful Levi seemed to fade away. He took your hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly.

"I love you," he said, with a sweet smile that seemed to erase all traces of nervousness.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning on his arm as he started the engine.

But before he left, he stopped and leaned towards you, his lips touching yours. "Thank you for today. It was important to me."

And at that moment you realized that, despite all his distractions and jokes, Levi was really sincere.

[somethingvicked]

Take It Back

An Eddie Munson one-shot.

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, Eddie being an oblivious idiot, emotional cheating(?), breaking up.

If someone asked Eddie when the new girl, Cathy, had become his first priority instead of his girlfriend, he wouldn’t be able to answer them.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He still loved his girl, more than anything in the world, she was the girl he had planned his future with, and still wanted a future with. And now he had gone and fucked that all up.

He wished he could take it all back.

Just to have another minute with her.

When Cathy was new to Hawkins High, Eddie hadn’t noticed her much. She immediately became popular, joined the cheer squad and had a dozen jocks hanging on to her every move. Just another cheer clone.

But when Cathy came to the picnic table in the woods to buy weed for the first time he noticed that they actually had some things in common.

Despite being a cheerleader she liked metal, she smoked on occasion to relax and she also came from a broken home – she had come to Hawkins to live with her older cousin because her parents split and none of them wanted to be saddled with her.

Not that he and Y/N didn’t have things in common. On the contrary – they had a lot in common. Y/N loved metal, just like he did, she was a member of Hellfire and even though she wasn’t a part of Corroded Coffin she had named herself the stylist of the band, helping them with their outfits for every show.

Y/N was everything he could ever wish for.

And yet he found himself wanting more.

Every time Cathy waved at him, wanted to exhange a mixtape with him or asked if he was free for business, he felt a pang of triumph, when the jocks seemed speechless, that the new, popular girl, spoke to the freak without shame.

Y/N didn’t say anything about it, at first. Not until Cathy started calling him, and talking for hours. When he had to interrupt their date night to take her calls. When he had to go to a party to pick her up because it was boring and she didn’t have a ride home. When Eddie canceled a Hellfire session to go to a game instead, because Cathy had told him that her cousin couldn’t come watch and it would mean so much to her if someone she cared about was there.

”Eddie, you can be friends with whomever you want, but this isn’t okay,” Y/N had told him, ”this isn’t about friendship. She clearly wants you, and is trying to take you away from me. And by not putting up boundaries you are telling her it’s okay to do that – to me, and to our relationship.” ”That’s not true, sweetheart,” Eddie had said. ”She’s just... she just moved here and you know all the cheerleaders and jocks come from perfect white picket fence lives. She doesn’t, and she needs someone that has gone through the same.”

”You’re oblivious to think that,” Y/N had said. ”Just because you’re popular it doesn’t mean you don’t have any problems. But that’s neither here nor there. Do you seriously think it’s okay to cancel date nights with me to be with her? I’m your girlfriend.”

”Exactly,” Eddie had snapped at her, ”you’re my girlfriend. I thought you would trust me enough to know I would never cheat on you.”

Y/N had sighed and hadn’t said anything else. Eddie had felt a bit bad, because he had to admit she had a point. He promised himself that he would be more attentive to Y/N, make it up to her.

Until Cathy told him that she had managed to get tickets to a concert at the next town. Would he like to come with her? She didn’t want to go herself, since there could be a lot of dangers to a lonely girl. She didn’t know anyone else well enough. Of course Eddie said yes.

And canceled another date night with Y/N, without thinking about it. He would make it up to her.

Soon.

He never did. And now it was too late to go back.

When he canceled another date night, this time on their anniversary, because Cathy had called him, asking him to teach her how to play D&D, Y/N had actually become angry.

”You choose to spend our anniversary with another girl? How is that supposed to makes me feel?! Or do you not care about that anymore?” she had said, her voice broken.  

”It’s important that Hellfire grows, you know that,” he had told Y/N when he left. He hadn’t even offered to drop her off at her place, he had been so eager to show Cathy, a popular girl, his life’s passion, another middle finger to the ones calling him freak and satanist.

When he came home Y/N wasn’t there anymore though, and Wayne had been waiting for him, giving him a stern talking to.

”Y/N is a lovely girl, and you’re hurting her,” he had told Eddie. ”If you don’t want to be with her anymore – even if you would be a fool not to – then break up with her and let her move on. Don’t do this, whatever the hell this is, to her.”

Wayne hadn’t said anything else, but the disappointment in his gaze had made Eddie feel like the worst human on the planet.

That had soon turned to fury, though, thinking that Y/N had sold him out to his uncle and had drove to her place the next day, all but cornering her against a wall in her room.

”If you got a problem, take it up with me, like a grown up,” he had said loudly, almost yelling, ”don’t go behind my back and blab to my uncle about it.”

”I haven’t said a word to Wayne,” Y/N said calmly, ”maybe he has just noticed your shitty behavior, since you make no effort to hide it.”

”What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

”It means that you clearly don’t care about me and our relationship anymore. That’s how it feels. I mean it this time, Eddie. I’ve had it. I won’t be your girlfriend if I’m second best. It’s not about if you would cheat, I know you wouldn’t do that. Physically. But you already are cheating emotionally and I won’t take it anymore. You have to pick. Me. Or her.”

Eddie got even more furious, if possible, when she accused him of cheating. That was something his father had done, and Eddie had sworn he would never be like his father. Y/N knew it too, so that she told him this... it was like she had slapped him.

”You’re a fucking idiot,” he growled. ”The fact that you behave like this – maybe that’s why I prefer to hang out with Cathy instead of you, ever thought of that?”

He regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but he had no chance to apologize because Y/N’s eyes had gone cold like Lover’s Lake in the winter months.

”Get out,” she said.

”Wait, sweetheart, I...”

”Get. Out.”

How he wished he could take those words back. All of it.

Eddie had left, thinking that he should let her cool off and then come back with some flowers and apologize.

He even decided to tell Cathy that they needed to take a little break from each other.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to open the door in nothing but a towel, after he had called her to say he was going to come by, asking him if he liked what he saw.

”What the... no, Cathy, this is all wrong, I’m with Y/N and I love her.”

Cathy snorted. ”You love her? Then why are you so eager to get away from her, spending every waking moment with me? Come on, we’re already a couple in all but name. Y/N is the past.”

When Cathy laid it out for him it had hit him like a bucket of cold water. He had neglected Y/N, he had chosen Cathy over her, he had... except for actually doing what Cathy now tempted him to do, he had cheated on her.

He got hot and cold all over. ”No, she’s not,” he got out, and ran from Cathy’s porch, throwing himself in the van.

He drove back to Y/N’s place and frantically knocked on her door, wanting to tell her how sorry he was, that he would never do this again, that she was his future and he realized that now.

Y/N opened herself, a box in her arms. ”Oh, good,” she said, her voice revealing nothing. ”Here.”

She gave the box to Eddie and he got so surprised he forgot all about the apologies he was supposed to make.

”What’s this?” he wondered, looking down into the box. Once again he got cold all over. It was tapes he had made Y/N, her Hellfire shirt, a stuffed little bat he had won her at the arcade, a necklace he had saved up to to give her on her birthday, one of his Black Sabbath t-shirts...

”What’s... what’s this?” he got out, in a whole different tone.

”Stuff from you,” Y/N answered. ”I started getting it together last week, but I was thinking that if you made the right choice today, I would pack them up again, and we could move on. But you didn’t, so here we are. You’ve both made this harder and easier for me, dragging this out like this. I knew you weren’t going to pick me, but...”

”But I do!” Eddie cried out. ”I was at Cathy’s just now and I was going to tell her... you were right! She was trying to seduce me, but I didn’t... I don’t want her, I want you!”

”Too bad you couldn’t figure that out earlier,” Y/N said. ”You’ve treated me like shit for weeks, Eddie. I never thought you would do that to me. Not you. And I at least thought you would take it serious when I told you how hurt I was, even if you didn’t think Cathy was trying to seduce you. But you said I was an idiot instead.”

”I didn’t mean...”

”I don’t care,” Y/N interrupted. ”I... I can’t believe it has come to this. Why you would do this to us? We had it all planned out. But clearly it wasn’t enough for you. I wasn’t enough for you.”

”You are!” Eddie yelled, tears now streaming down his face, ”baby, please… please, forgive me. I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you!”

”You say that now,” Y/N told him, shaking her head, ”but what happens when next exciting girl comes along? Maybe someone that will offer you a record contract? Or someone that can join the band in ways I can, since I don't play music. What then? Am I going to be second best again then?”

”No!”

”I don’t believe you. And that’s why we can’t be together anymore, Eddie. I won’t spend my life waiting and wondering when I’ll become second best again. I’d rather find someone that treats me right, all the time. It’s over. We’re done.”

”But...”

”We’re done, Eddie. Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Eddie wanted to protest some more, trying to convince her, but it was then he took an actual look at her and noticed that, unlike him, she didn’t cry, her voice didn’t tremble. She was completely emotionless. Had he done this to her?  He had. By making her feel like she wasn’t good enough. By making her feel like the second-choice and breaking her trust.

Despite everything, Eddie still held some crazy hope that Y/N would call him when he got home and  tell him she was willing to give him another chance.

That was, until he saw a box on the couch in the living room and asked Wayne what it was.

”Y/N’s things,” his uncle replied, with the same dull tone that Y/N had used. ”She called me and asked me to collect them and bring them to her.”

She had asked Wayne, and not him...

That’s when Eddie realized that it wouldn’t matter how much he apologized. Some things couldn’t be undone.

Later that night when he cried in his room, Y/N’s Hellfire shirt pressed against his face, inhaling her scent, he remembered what Cathy had said – that Y/N was the past. She had been right. But not because of Cathy, but because of him.

He had ruined the best thing in his life on his own. And he couldn’t take it back.

Some things you just can’t take back.

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober - Day 13 - Daddy

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : hey guys ! Here is the 2nd prompt for Kinktober Day 13. This time it’s « Daddy ». I only recently got done with it without realizing I would be posting it on the day of his birthday 🙊. I could have made something birthday related but… oh well. Another time, maybe 🙈. I hope you enjoy it. I made it cute & fluffy.

CW : Daddy kink - Pregnancy announcement - Fluff

Marshall Mathers doesn’t have a daddy kink. In fact, it’s kind of the opposite. Maybe it’s a parent thing, but as far as he’s concerned, there are only three persons in the world allowed to call him Daddy : his children. Any woman he is dating g trying to call him that immediately gives him the ick. You sort of learned it the hard way. Being younger than him, you playfully and somewhat threw in the nickname on one occasion when he was being directive. It wasn’t even in bed and, in hindsight, thank God it wasn’t because it would have been that much more awkward. It was one night, you were in his kitchen, making dinner, telling him about your day while you were slicing and dicing some vegetable for the meal you were cooking. « Careful with the knife, babe. Look at what you’re doing or you’re going to cut yourself.  » he gently warned, ever so caring. « Ok Daddy » you chuckled with a grin.

His mood immediately changed and the soft smile on his face was quickly replaced by a frown and an air of disgust. « What did you call me ? » he asked. « Daddy » you repeated « come on, it’s not that deep » you don’t added with a shrug. « Just… don’t » he said. You stopped what you were doing and put the knife aside. « You don’t like it ? » you asked with a raised eyebrow. To you, it wasn’t a big deal. You didn’t have a daddy kink but you were guilty of calling some of your exes « Daddy » in bed. No daddy issues on your part, just some appreciation for someone who could be a little authoritarian in bed. So, to you, playfully using the nickname didn’t sound like anything weird at all. Him, on the other hand, seemed to find it creepy. « Like it ? It’s fucking weird » he scoffed. « you really want to call me Daddy ?! ».

He genuinely seemed disturbed by the thought. Horrified, almost. You giggled and cupped his face. « It was just for fun. Chill, babe. » you said softly. « No but while thinks about their dad when they’re with their man ? » he continued. You couldn’t help but laugh and shook your head. « First of all… I like it when you refer to yourself as my man » you said seductively. « And second of all… it’s not about actual fathers. It’s a vibe, you know ? » you tentatively explained. He hummed but still didn’t seem convinced. « Yeah, well, feel free to come up with any other nickname but… not this one. The only people who are allowed to call me that are my daughters. » he said as he rolled his eyes. You chuckled and agreed before giving him a peck on the cheek.

In the following years, you didn’t fall short when it came to finding cute names to refer to him, some of them being more ridiculous than others. Most of the time, you used classics such as « my love » or « babe » but, every so often, you spiced things up with something ridiculous like « sunshine » or « honeybun ». He often laughed at your antics and, honestly, he didn’t mind the cheesy pet names. If anything, he thought it was kind of funny and cute. As long as you steered clear of « Daddy », he could put up with anything. On the days where you wanted to use a nickname that highlighted his authoritative nature, you tried to find options such as « Boss » or « Top Dog », which never failed to make him chortle.

However, one evening, you just had to go back to using « Daddy ».

You went to find him in his home office, where he was reviewing some visuals for his upcoming album. As the drop date was approaching, he was putting in more and more hours. When you entered the room, you found him with his head in his hands, clearly exhausted. You stood behind him and placed a kiss on his cheek, prompting him to look up. He gave you an exhausted smile, one that showed your intrusion was most welcome. You knew that, as much as he loved the writing/producing/recording part of making an album, the rest sometimes felt like a pain in his ass. And these days, it seemed like it was all about photoshoots, picking visuals, anticipating promo. All the things he didn’t really care for, really.

« So… What’s up, Daddy ? » you asked softly and innocently.

He turned to you and you immediately saw him cringe. You could see the instinctive reaction, as if he had just eaten something sour. His eyebrows shot up, arching sharply in disbelief, while his eyes went wide with a mix of shock and confusion. A slight twitch pulled at the corner of his left eye, as if his brain was desperately trying to process and reject what he'd just heard. His lips pressed together into a thin, tight line, then curled downward in the most uncomfortable grimace imaginable. His jaw clenched visibly, and his nostrils flared as if he was physically trying to hold back whatever retort was forming in his head. For a moment, he looked utterly frozen in place, caught between laughter and utter discomfort, before he finally broke the silence with a sharp shake of his head. “Nah, nah, nah,” he muttered, his voice a mix of strained disbelief and unease, his whole face still scrunched up like he was trying to physically repel the word. The look in his eyes was pleading, practically begging you not to ever do that again.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. It had been at least a couple of years since the « Daddy » incident but his reaction said it all, he still found it insanely cringy. Too bad, though, because he’d had to get used to it. Marshall’s face shifted from that initial cringe into something more serious, his eyes narrowing as he shook his head, setting his laptop aside with an exaggerated sigh. He turned to you, his lips pressing together tightly, clearly trying to rein in his frustration, but there was no hiding the exasperation in his voice.

« Babe, we’ve been over this already, » he said, gesturing with his hands like he was trying to lay out something obvious. « I told you, no calling me ‘Daddy.’ That’s for my kids. I can’t- »He paused, searching for the right words, but all that came out was a mix of disbelief and irritation. « I don’t even know how to explain it, but it just feels… wrong, alright? ». His tone was firm, but not angry—more like someone who’d had this conversation one too many times and couldn’t believe they were having it again. « You think it’s funny, but no. It’s weird. We’re not doing that, » he added, his brows furrowing in a way that made it clear he was serious. He looked at you, waiting for some sign that you got the message this time, his expression softening just a little as he ran a hand through his hair. « Just… stop, » he finished with a sigh, giving you a look that said he hoped this would be the last time he had to talk about it. Twice was enough already.

« I don’t think I can stop » you said with a grin, waiting for him to connect the dots. « In fact… I think you’re going to get used to it… Daddy» you continued as you placed a hand where, soon enough, a bump would be visible. At first, your man didn’t seem to fully register it. He sat there, still caught in the loop of his usual reaction to your teasing, eyes narrowing in confusion.

But then, slowly, the meaning of your words and the gesture sank in. His expression shifted, eyebrows furrowing as his head tilted slightly, like he was trying to replay your sentence in his mind to make sure he’d heard it right. « Wait... what? » His voice was softer now, disbelief lacing every word. His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were still joking, but instead, he saw the familiar glow in your eyes and the warm, expectant smile that told him this was different. His whole body seemed to freeze for a beat, and then his face changed entirely. His eyes widened first, and his mouth dropped open just a little, like he had to catch his breath. His brow furrowed, but not in confusion anymore—it was the weight of emotion hitting him, the realization dawning in full. « You’re... for real? ». His voice cracked slightly, like he didn’t trust himself to fully believe it yet, but his eyes were already glistening with the first hint of something deeper.

When you nodded, his lips parted into a stunned smile, a slow, almost incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. He looked down at your stomach, then back at your face, a hand running over his head as if trying to make sense of the moment. « You… you’re pregnant? ». The words came out softer this time, almost in awe, his eyes never leaving yours. After months of hoping for a positive test that never seemed to come, this was it, finally.

There was a long pause, where all he could do was stare at you, a mixture of joy and disbelief playing across his face, before a laugh finally broke free, a genuine, almost disbelieving laugh, as if he couldn’t wrap his head around it. « I’m gonna be a dad again? ». His voice was filled with wonder now, his hand reaching out to touch your stomach gently, like the reality of it was finally hitting him in waves. His whole face softened, his eyes shining with that rare, unguarded emotion he kept hidden from most. He pulled you into a tight embrace, pulling you to his lap and burying his face in your neck for a moment as he let the weight of it all sink in. « Finally, » he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes again, a wide, almost boyish grin breaking across his face. « We’re having a baby. ». You nodded with an emotional smile and wrapped your arms around his neck before kissing him.

As the reality of the moment settled in and the initial wave of emotion began to subside, you couldn’t help but tease him, that familiar playful glint dancing in your eyes. You leaned back slightly, still smiling as you ran a hand over your belly, letting your words hang in the air for just a second before speaking. « So, hum, does this mean I finally get a pass to call you ‘Daddy’ now? » you asked, raising an eyebrow with a sly grin, clearly enjoying how the tables had turned on the long-running joke.

Marshall’s reaction was instant. His face immediately scrunched up, that familiar look of playful disgust returning for a moment. He groaned, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still going there, especially now. « Oh, come on, » he muttered, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked at you with mock exasperation, but he couldn’t deny that this time, it felt different. He let out a deep breath, his hand running over his face as if to brace himself. « Alright, alright… » he started, but then his expression became more serious, his eyes locking with yours. « Only when you’re talking to the baby, though, » he added, pointing at you with emphasis. « Like, when you’re telling her something about me, sure, you can say ‘Daddy.’ But otherwise, no. That’s still fucking weird. ». He laughed, shaking his head again, and gently placed his hand over your stomach, the playful moment shifting into something more meaningful. « But yeah, » he added quietly, a softer smile forming. « You can say it… for them. »

His gaze lingered on your belly for a moment longer, the weight of what that word meant now sinking in fully. « I guess I’m gonna have to get used to it, huh? » he said, looking back up at you with that familiar mix of humor and tenderness in his eyes.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally. 

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped. 

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’. 

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight. 

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter. 

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued. 

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice. 

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him. 

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat. 

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range. 

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly. 

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house. 

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat. 

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior. 

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled. 

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself. 

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement. 

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook. 

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered. 

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall. 

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke. 

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum. 

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John. 

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’. 

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.” 

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.” 

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort. 

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father. 

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however. 

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'. 

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.” 

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly. 

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad. 

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!” 

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.” 

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you. 

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

  

 “NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you. 

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open. 

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde. 

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried. 

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool. 

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up. 

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed. 

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm

©loveharlow.

[happyhauntt]

a lack of caffeine — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: caffeine makes the world go 'round. that's something you and spencer can agree on.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. swearing. i really fucking struggled with this it's so boring. thank you to everyone who requested a part 2!

─── word count: 1.8k.

     The call comes in at four in the morning.

     The screen reads three missed calls by the time its incessant buzzing rouses you from your slumber, and you pull it out from beneath your pillow. Squinting at the sudden brightness of it, an unlisted number stares back at you as your phone keeps vibrating insistently in your grip.

     When you finally wake up enough to realise it could be work, you answer it. Agent Hotchner's familiar voice is stern and low and only a little apologetic as he informs you that you're going to be required in the field for a new case, and you should be at the airfield within the hour.

     There isn't enough time to ask any questions before the line clicks, and you're left blinking into the dim light of your bedroom as you try to gather your bearings.

     Sleep itches at the corners of your eyes, all gritty and blurry, and though part of your mind recalls reading this little clause in the contract you’d signed, that constant availability takes on a whole new meaning when you work for the BAU, you still take a moment to fantasise about pushing Aaron Hotchner off a cliff.

     You’re not a morning person. And you would argue that 4AM isn’t even the morning, it’s the middle of the night, and why can’t serial killers do their business during normal business hours?

     A new case. Not your first case since joining the unit as their resident independent medical examiner, but the first where you would join the rest of the team in the field. The first where you'll be required to exert federal authority over county coroners, where you'll have to step on toes in order to get the job done.

     You know they won't take too well to an outsider coming in and derailing their whole thing. You know you wouldn't. You used to be one of them, not that long ago.

     Ah, shit. As the drowsiness begins to fade out of your body, a light panic trickles in. Your skin starts to buzz as if you put your finger into a live socket. You grip your phone so hard it leaves a mark on your palm.

     It takes ten minutes to get ready, stumbling around your room and shoving clothes into a bag. You don't really care about matching socks, but you count out your underwear three times and hope you won't run out before the case is done. Do they have laundries you'll be able to use? Have the other members of the BAU ever encountered this problem? Should you pack your hair straightener or is it really going to matter?

     When you've finally dragged a brush through your hair and dumped the last of your toiletries into a ziploc bag, a dull realisation strikes you.

     Jackie.

     Going toe-to-toe with a rabid raccoon might be more appealing than waking up your sister-in-law in the middle of the night, but you don't really have much choice. She has to know what's going on, she'll be in charge of your daughter for however long you'll be gone, and leaving a note on the kitchen counter feels like the wrong move to make in this instance.

     Is there a protocol for this? A single-parent handbook you can check out at the library? This is something you really should've talked about when you got the job, you know that. You'd known it would require you to travel on occasion, often without prior notice, but it hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time. You'd brushed it under the rug, labelled it to be discussed later as if you and Jackie have ever actually sat down and done that.

     A thousand things sit unsaid between you. That rug has got a little mountain under it by now, almost impossible to ignore. It’s really only a matter of time before you trip over it.

     “Jackie. Jackie.”

     Your sister-in-law grumbles when you sneak into her room and poke her, hard and repeatedly, until she threatens to bite you. The news of your leaving doesn't take her by surprise — exhaustion seems to dull the stung of it — and she promises to call twice a day, every day, before she buries her face back into the pillow and starts to snore like a lawnmower.

     You hope she never, ever changes.

     Pressing a kiss to your sleeping daughter's forehead is the last thing you do before you finally manage to drag yourself out of the apartment. A dull ache thuds in your chest, where your heart should be. She'd looked so peaceful, so sweet, and you can't recall a time since she was born that you'd been apart from her for longer than a day. Her bright, happy giggle and wide eyes flash through your mind.

     As your car peels out of the parking garage, you feel distinctly like a piece of laundry someone hung out to dry and then forgot about.

     The sun is just beginning to kiss the horizon as you pull up to the airfield. Long streaks of a pink-fingered dawn creep across the sky. You flash your identification at the security guard and pull up alongside the jet, scrambling to grab your bag from the passenger seat.

     It doesn't surprise you that you're the last to arrive, but you'd hoped that wouldn't be the case.

     The clock just strikes 5AM as you clatter up the steps, practically falling into the aircraft. Technically, you're on time, but it still feels like you're late for class and your teacher is about to put it on your permanent record. A kind-faced hostess greets you, offers to stow your bag, and you flash her a sheepish smile as you hand it over and pass through the curtains into the main cabin.

     "Holy shit."

     You can't help yourself. Every single member of the team turns to look at you, craning their necks to see exactly who they're dealing with, but you can't even bring yourself to care. "This is a jet. It's actually... a jet."

     You blink at the open space as your jaw goes a little slack. Do you sound a little insane? Sure, and ordinarily you'd feel self-conscious with several pairs of unfamiliar eyes gawking at you, analysing your every movement as if it's their job to do so — and it actually is — but this honestly insane.

     You had no idea the BAU had this kind of budget. Do they own the plane? Do they rent it? Is it publically funded by the taxpayer, and why can't they fly commercial? Like, you're not complaining at all, those leather seats look so comfortable, but why—?

     An austere voice says your name once, twice, and you blink, looking up to find the furrowed brow of your boss frowning at you down the aisle.

     "Take a seat, doctor, we're about to take off."

     His tone leaves no room for argument. A flush rises in your cheeks, and you manage to stammer out an apology before throwing yourself into the nearest available seat, buckling your seatbelt.

     "It's a good thing you're the M.E and not a profiler, sweetcheeks." One of the agents nearest to you leans across the aisle. A charming grin spreads over his face as he offers up his hand in greeting. "Derek Morgan."

     "Oh, I know," you reply, shaking his hand firmly. "I, uh, looked you guys up after Dr. Reid paid a visit to the underworld and I didn't recognise him. Figured I should be a little more familiar with the other members of my team."

     "The underworld?" A blonde woman you realise must be Agent Jareau gives you a friendly, if slightly confused, smile.

     You shrug, suddenly a little embarrassed. Group settings have never been your thing. Too many people, too many unfamiliar eyes, far too many voices clashing together until it all becomes a sensory nightmare.

     You much prefer your little lab, and one-on-one conversations, usually with the unlucky cadavers that find themselves on your slab. They never talk back.

     "It's just what I call the morgue," you tell her. A loose bit of skin hangs off the edge of your nail, and you really, really want to pick at it. Fatigue hovers at the edge of your consciousness, and as the plane engines begin to roar, you find yourself wishing you’d made a coffee before leaving the apartment.

     You would have been late, for sure, but life would feel worth living so, y’know. Swings and roundabouts.

     "In Greek mythology, the underworld is where an individual goes after death. Early ideas suggest that someone’s essence, their psyche, is separated from their corpse at the point of death and transported to the underworld. Accounts differ on whether any judgement occurs, depending on which scholarship you’re citing." A familiar voice pipes up from the back of the plane and you glance over. The rich brown eyes looking back fill you with an odd warmth.

     More at ease with a familiar face, you settle back in your seat and lift your hand in a lazy wave. "Good morning, Dr Reid. It's nice to see you when I'm not elbow-deep in someone's intestines."

     Agent Jareau wrinkles her nose. "Now I'm really glad I didn't have time for breakfast."

     Reid's ears turn bright pink and he looks away, stuttering out his reply. "It's good to see you too. Uh, well, not good, given the circumstances, since there's a serial killer on the loose, but good because—"

     "We get the picture, Reid," Agent Hotchner cuts him off, and Reid turns his gaze back to the small window, a little flustered. Hotch looks, bizarrely, like he's trying not to smile. "Welcome to the team. We'll go over the case details once we're in the air."

     “Is there coffee in the air?” There might be a murder mid-flight otherwise. Really, how do they function at this time in the morning? The plane judders as it rolls over the tarmac, heading for the runway. “Or tea, or soda, or— Honestly, I’ll take whatever. I just don’t want to fall asleep in a body cavity later on.”

     Again.

     Reid finds himself nodding, entirely against his will. There’s something about the peculiar medical examiner, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it makes him want to keep talking. More than usual, at least.

     He wonders if there’s duct tape on board. Or a parachute.

     “There’s coffee,” he confirms. Is his voice a little high?

     “Dr. Reid, I could kiss you—”

     Oh, hell. Judging by the way Morgan has a hand pressed to his mouth, stifling an obscenely loud chuckle, Reid suspects he’s never going to hear the end of this.

[hazbinwhoree]

May i request an Adam x Child!Reader platonic? The child is his btw, how would he treat them? :3

Eve left Adam with one thing, and that was you

Adam never really wanted a kid, and especially never wanted to be a single father

He loves you but he’s a terrible father

You’re not even ten yet and you curse like a sailor

Thanks to Adam of course

Adam, despite his hatred for Eve and her betrayal, makes a point to not talk shit about her in front of you

You have no idea why Mommy left you with Daddy

Daddy doesn’t talk about it

Adam often passes off his parental duties onto Lute

He does not know how to parent

He’s more of a friend than a father

Holds no resentment towards you, he loves you, but he just doesn’t know what to do with you

He knows he’s a bad father but he doesn’t know how to be a good one

Lute really has to step up as a parental figure

It’s gotten to the point where you’re calling Lute your mom

Adam sometimes gets jealous that Lute can parent when he can’t

Despite not parenting you, he is present in your life

Almost every day is take your kid to work day

He brings you with him and Lute as he goes about his Heavenly duties during the day

Has no patience for bullshit, so you’re well-behaved not out of good parenting, but out of slight fear

Adam rarely got angry with you, but when he did it was scary

Adam sometimes tries to do dad things

He’ll read you a book before bed and make you pancakes for breakfast

Has 100% let you have ice cream for dinner on many occasions

You look more like him than Eve and thank god because if you looked like Eve it’s quite possible Adam would want nothing to do with you

You don’t know the difference between a parent being present vs a parent actually parenting

Therefore you think he’s a great dad

You love him to death and this absolutely strokes Adam’s ego

He’s turning you into a mini him

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

A Better Father (Loki X Stark!Son!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Loki X Stark!Son!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Parental negligence, bad relationship with parent, mention of drugs and underage drinking

Request: could you do a tony x son!reader, in their live, tony was always cold to him (but eventually take him in with pepper) and then Peter Parker show up and take that away, Loki see him in reader (like with odin and how he treat Loki and Thor) and decide to adopt him, teach him magic, reader happy again 😊.

Notes: I wrote this and completely forgot it's meant to be male!reader until it came time to post- I think I've corrected it, but if you spot I've accidentally used the wrong pronouns please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks!

“I’m going out!” You announced, already at the front door, pulling your shoes on and your jacket, before grabbing your bag, hand on the door handle before you got a response. 

“Where to?” Pepper asked, rounding the corner, arms crossed. 

“My friend is doing a school project and wants my help with it.” You excused yourself, being careful not to go into any details. 

“Do you need a ride?” She asked. 

“No, it’s okay, there’s a bus that takes me right outside their apartment. I don’t know how long I’ll be, since we have a lot to do, if it gets late I’ll call you to let you know I’m okay and I’ll stay over, is that okay?” You asked her. Pepper walked a little closer, her expression clearly troubled.

“I’ll have to ask your father…” She commented, and your shoulders slumped, you turning to face her. 

“You know he’s not going to care, Peps. In fact, I’m going to predict what he’s going to say, something along the lines of ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’.” You mimicked, Pepper frowning, knowing you were right. “I appreciate you actually trying to make up for him, I really do. It’s why I go to you instead of him for permission- because you actually care. Please don’t waste your breath. If he actually wants to know what his son is doing, he’ll do it himself.” You pointed out. 

“I know… he should be better, and I want him to be better for you… and I also know you’re lying to me.” She pointed out. You felt your heart drop into your ass, and you sighed. “I told Peter about one of your prior projects with friends, and he looked into it- wanting to see if he could help as well, but then found out that your friend doesn’t even exist.”

“Has he told Tony?” You asked. 

“No. He hasn’t. I made him promise to wait, told him I’d deal with it.” She explained. “Peter also cares about you, even if he doesn’t have much time to actually spend time with you.” She pointed out, and you just nodded. You’d accepted that even though Peter was Tony’s favourite despite not actually being his kid, when Peter got an idea od the dynamic between you and your father, he tried his hardest not to play into it or make it worst, though he often realised after events that he actually had and had not realised it. He always apologised for it, always tried to spend time with you in school, and on more than one occasion, he’d covered for you or even claimed something you did that your dad didn’t like was his idea, knowing Tony wouldn’t punish him and it would stop your relationship with your dad somehow getting worse. You appreciated him, he was like a brother in a way, and at this point, more like family than your dad, like how Pepper was more of a parent than Tony was, despite you not being related either. Same with Happy. Same with… 

“I’m sorry for lying to you. And Peter… I just…” You fumbled. 

“What’s going on, Y/N? Where are you going?” She asked, her voice soft and welcoming, a silent promise that no matter what, she wasn’t going to yell, turn on you, that she actually cares and just wants to be there for you. 

“I’ve been going to meet someone… not romantically or anything!” You told her quickly. “I’m not doing drugs or anything like that either.” 

“That’s good, so you’re being responsible with this person… why have you been hiding this person from us then?” She asked. You thought for a second on how to break the news, and in that time, Pepper started to pry a little more. “Are they… older?” She asked. You nodded. “So not a teenager? Out of school?” She asked, and you nodded again. “How old are they?” She asked, tilting her head. Another hard question, and you bit your lip, and sensing you weren’t confident answering, she changed her question. “What do you two do? It’s not illegal, so what’s so bad you have to hide it?” She asked. 

“He’s… mentoring me.” You told her. 

“Oh, so he’s like a professor? A teacher? What’s he teaching you?” She asked with a smile, seemingly suddenly relieved, getting the idea that you were getting one on one lessons for something you were interested in as a future career, and she was ready to support you from the jump. 

“Magic. He’s teaching me magic.” You admitted, which made Pepper’s eyebrows press together. “And not the cut a woman in half or pull a rabbit out of a hat kind of magic.” You clarified, and she had a moment of realisation. 

“I know two people who know magic. One is Strange, who your father gets along with and so learning from him wouldn’t be a problem, which means… Loki? You’re going to see Loki? He’s teaching you magic?” She asked, and you nodded. 

“Please don’t tell Tony! I promise, Loki’s been nothing but kind to me! When we’re not doing magic, we just read books together- or go on walks or stuff!” You explained. 

“What kind of magic?” She demanded. 

“How to teleport, how to create an illusion, today he’s teaching me a spell that translates both written and spoken languages!” You explained to her. “He said for a treat for my birthday he’s going to teach me a spell that lets me understand animals because apparently what they say is really funny and cute and he thinks I’ll like it.” You explained to her. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and you sighed. “We do other stuff to.” You told her. 

“Like what?” She asked. 

“You know when Tony’s in a bad mood or I do something he doesn’t like and we get into an argument and I go for a walk to cool off and don’t come back for hours? Loki walks with me. He makes sure I don’t do anything stupid… I feel so safe with him, that I feel comfortable and safe enough to actually cry.” You admitted. You watched Pepper’s concerned expression fall. You never cried- at least not at home. Not at school either, according to Peter. You didn’t cry in front of her, or Peter, or Happy, and sure as hell never in front of Tony, no matter what he said or did. “And he knows what I need when I cry. He hugs me, he just lets me cry, he doesn’t shush me or try to make me stop. If anything bad happens, I go to him first. Like when I went to that party last month and got wasted and realised I didn’t know how to get home- you and dad thought I left with a stranger and stayed with someone who I didn’t know and then came home when sober- instead I called Loki and he looked after me during the night, he rubbed my back when I threw up, hugged me and promised it was gonna be okay when I was crying, he made this really nice tea which instantly made my hangover go away, and promised if this ever happened again he’d do it all over again, and then he took me home when I felt well enough.” You admitted to her. 

“Where do you two hang out, usually?” She asked. 

“He has a little apartment, there’s probably a hefty amount of magic to make it so the other tenants can’t notice the door to it since it defies the floor plan of the entire building, but it’s so cozy, and warm and I have my own bedroom there- which is where I go whenever I have any ‘sleepovers’, though I do make him watch movies, especially bad ones.” You laughed. It felt so good to finally be able to talk about this- about everything you and Loki did, because time with Loki was your happy time. 

“Okay… I have two questions.” She said, and you nodded, gulping. “Why…Loki? If you wanted to learn magic, why not go to Strange, and why is Loki so willing and…” She didn’t say the word, but you knew what she wanted to say. Fatherly. 

“Because when he looks at me, he sees himself.” You admitted. “He told me himself… Loki didn’t have a good relationship either with his father. Thor's the golden child, Loki was the one pushed to the back, forgotten. He knows how it feels to be unwanted, to not be thought of by the person who is supposed to love you. He knows how it feels to want to be loved and no matter how hard you try, not getting it, because in your dad’s eyes, you’re not worth it. He sees me, and he sees his own childhood, and he hates that, so… he decided to do something about it.” You explained to her. “Loki… Loki’s like a dad to me. He certainly acts more like one than Tony.” You pointed out. Pepper looked devastated, but understood. “What was your other question?”

“Inevitably, Tony’s going to find out about this. I won’t tell him, I’ll feign ignorance, but Peter’s going to find out somehow, and you know that even if he wants to protect you, that boy can’t keep a secret to save his life, especially from Tony.” She pointed out. “What’s your game plan for when he finds out?” She asked. 

“I’ve already got that figured out.” You reassured her. “Loki set up the bedroom for me for the worst case scenario… I graduate next year. I’ll graduate, start going to college, and I’m going to move out and live with Loki- he might move his apartment to be closer to whatever college I want to go to. If he doesn’t know by then, I’ll tell him I just have a roommate and we know he’s not going to come and visit, and after college, I’ll just slowly drop contact, keep my distance, away from him, happy, learning magic, living my own life. I’ll come visit you and Peter and Happy, regular phone calls, if you need me, call me and I’ll be there… and if Tony finds out before then? I’ll go anyway. I’ll be okay, no matter what. Loki has my back.”

“...And so do I.” She added. You two stared at each other. You weren’t sure what she was thinking, what exactly she was going to do. Ban you from seeing Loki? Tell your father? Treat you like a criminal and monster even if you’ve done nothing wrong? Be locked away? Somehow become even more of an outcast? Lose the few people you actually consider family? Lose Loki? “I won’t keep you waiting. Keep me updated on what you’re doing, if you want to stay the night let me know, okay? I’ll tell Peter something that is easier to swallow and then we’ll tell him the full truth after you graduate. I’ll explain to Happy, maybe he can also help you… please just… don’t do anything stupid. Behave. No more secrets from me, okay?” She asked. 

“Okay. Thank you.” You told her, nodding with a grin. “I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow!” You told her, finally opening the door and dashing out. Pepper sighed, wondering what she was going to tell Peter to help keep in calm and not accidentally tell Tony, how she was going to get Happy to go along with this, how she’s going to look Tony in the eyes and feign ignorance, lie to his face about where his son is and who he's with. But then she remembered every time she could recall when she would come to Tony’s place and find you home alone when you were a young child, thinking it was normal, how you used to try to get his attention and him brush you off or even yell at you to go away and then slowly stop trying and instead go to her and Happy who actually cared. She remembered how utterly overjoyed you were when your dad actually came to your birthday after he was kidnapped, seeming to realise how precious life was and wanted to make up for lost time, and things were going well until Peter came into the picture, and he lost his way, his sole focus being Peter, you once again forgotten and neglected. Except this time you weren’t upset, just disappointed. You gave up on him, and instead adjusted, adapted, and found a new family. Pepper was your new mother, Peter was your brother, Happy your uncle, and Loki was your new, and much better father. You were making up for lost time with someone who actually cared and wanted you as a son. If Tony had a problem about it, he should have done something about it a long, long time ago.

You arrived at the apartment complex not long after leaving, heading up to the top floor, going to the door at the end of the hallway and letting yourself in. Loki peeked up from the book he was reading and smiled. “There you are, had me worried.” He joked. You sighed as you kicked your shoes off, dumping your bag on the floor and hanging up your coat. Your lack of an immediate response was weird for Loki, and he placed the book down, standing from the settee, and stepping closer to you. “What happened?” He asked softly, locking his hands behind himself. You turned to look at him finally. 

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, and he smiled sadly. “...Pepper knows. She’s covering for me, so I guess she’s okay with it, it’s just… what if Tony finds out and massively blows everything out of proportion?” You explained to him. 

“Well…” Loki crossed his arms, thinking. “Knowing you, your first thought is to run and start afresh.” He pointed out, and you nodded. “Or… I could talk to Thor. You and Pepper and him talk to the others, explain everything, we lay everything out, and then we tell your father. No secrets and being honest might work more in our favor than just upping and leaving, Y/N.” He pointed out. You squinted at him with suspicion. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the God of Mischief and Lies?” You asked, making him crack a smile.

“I may be, but it means I also know when’s a good time to actually tell the truth, and I think this might be the time. Pepper knows, she has your back, Thor is, as you describe it, a loyal labrador and will be happy I’m behaving, those two alone can be the brains and the brawl to help keep the situation under control.” He reassured you. 

“Okay, if you think so… but can we do that tomorrow? I want to learn that spell so I can finally read your Asguardian books.” You begged, making him chuckle. 

“Of course we can, go make some tea, then we’ll start.”

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

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[kikyoupdates]

Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑠

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

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You hate having to pick sides.  

Over the years, the relationship between Katsuki and Izuku has gradually become more strained. The three of you are childhood friends, so of course, you hoped that things would get better after a while. That Katsuki would grow out of his callous phase and rekindle his friendship with the freckled boy who’d always looked up to him. 

Sadly, that didn’t happen.  

Instead, the animosity between them only deepened. Now, as middle schoolers, you are at the point where Izuku can hardly get two words out before cowering in front of Katsuki out of fear. You aren't children anymore. This can't simply be written off as ‘kids being kids’. It's bullying, and you are the one who sees firsthand the effect it has on poor Izuku.  

Although you've all naturally matured over the past ten years or so, Izuku is still heavily dependent on you, and unfortunately, you don't realize just how serious of an issue this is. You feel like its only natural for your best friend to care for you and rely on you. It feels natural to defend him, and it also feels natural to make compromises every now and then in the interest of keeping him happy.

Izuku doesn't even realize it himself, but he is manipulating you into doing whatever he wants. If he's ever upset about something and needs you to stay by his side, he'll drop not-so subtle hints about how he's feeling.  

“Aw,” he sighs on one occasion, head drooping disappointedly. “Are you sure you can’t come over today?”  

You offer him a weak smile. “Sorry, Izuku. I still haven’t finished the project that’s due tomorrow. My group members are expecting me to turn my part in soon, so I’ll have to work through the night to finish on time.”  

“Alright. I understand. I just really wanted us to hang out tonight. But I guess it can’t be helped... I’ll just be alone, since you’re my only friend.”  

You feel incredibly guilty, but there's really no way around it. School is essential, after all. You can't very well just drop all your assignments and other responsibilities as you see fit. Your parents still expect you to put in a good effort and take your education seriously.  

Needless to say, sometime later that same night, Izuku calls you while choking back tears. 

“[N-Name],” he whimpers. “Kacchan and his friends prank-called me again. He said some really awful things... and I-I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I just can’t calm down. Please, is there no way for you to come over tonight? I just don’t want to be alone right now...” 

How can you call yourself his friend if you abandon him after hearing that choked-up, gut-wrenching voice of his?

So, you rush straight over to his house, even though you haven't yet finished up your portion of the project. You spend the better part of the night calming him down and watching funny videos together in the hopes of cheering him up. By the time you finally make it back home, it's almost the crack of dawn, and you are absolutely and utterly fucked.  

“What the hell, [Name]?” one of your group members for the project grimaces. “You totally screwed us over. The rest of us all worked our butts off and pulled an all-nighter to finish in time. Why couldn’t you just carry your weight?”  

You give them a weary look of remorse, having run out of time. Your chunk of the project isn't entirely complete, and your group members don't hesitate to run straight up to the teacher and whine about how you didn't take the project seriously. Naturally, he penalizes you for your lack of effort, and you end up needing to do a make-up assignment to earn back some of the marks you’d lost.

Izuku is visibly torn up about it. “I’m so sorry,” he gasps. “This is all my fault. All because I couldn’t suck it up and deal with my problems on my own. Please don’t hate me, [Name]. I promise I won’t bother you next time. Just please don’t hate me.”  

“It’s not your fault,” you reassure, wrapping your arms around him. “I didn’t manage my time properly, and there were other people in my group that were counting on me. If I’d been more organized from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t apologize, Izuku. You know I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me.”  

You're a good person—or at the very least, trying to be—and so you don't realize that every time you keep giving into Izuku’s whims, you are perpetuating the toxic relationship that has already begun to form.  

Self-sacrifice is the essence of a hero, and while it can be argued that you're just acting out the role you decided on, with certain people, it's still important to set boundaries.  

Especially when there are some truly dark emotions at play.  

Your Quirk is much more powerful than you even realize. It not only charms people and makes them momentarily blinded by their affection for you, but there are lasting effects, even outside your Quirk’s usage. People that already feel rather strongly about you—such as Izuku—find that their emotions have been amplified a hundredfold. It brings out jealousy, possessiveness, and other concerning traits in people, ones that normally wouldn’t have existed.  

Your Quirk is a ticking time bomb, and you are none the wiser to it.  

The only thing you do know is that it's a hell of a hassle to get used to. In the many years since it first manifested, you’ve been presented with various missions, completely at random. It's frustrating because the system seems to dictate when or how you get to hone your strength. You don't have much free reign over it, which you suppose is one of its main drawbacks. Virtually all Quirks have some weakness; some factor that either makes them difficult to wield, or briefly hinder their user.  

Still, you are diligent in your efforts. You make sure to complete every mission, so long as it's actually possible. Some of them involve charming people, but others are different challenges altogether. There were a few missions that went unfinished, of course. On one instance, you were required to run the length of a marathon, and it was a time-based mission, meaning that it needed to be completed within the same day it was issued. You had attempted it, but unfortunately, couldn’t manage to see it through till the end.

You have gotten stronger, though. There's progress, little by little, and you're relieved that your Quirk also allows you to improve your physical parameters. It's a bit frustrating to make sense of, and even now you still haven't totally figured it out, but it's still better than nothing. If applied correctly, you'll be able to save a lot of people with this Quirk.  

Right? 

“Alright, kids,” your teacher announces. “I was going to distribute these papers for you fill out your desired career paths, but then I realized... you’re all aiming to become heroes, aren’t you?”  

It's a day like any other, and you're currently in class. Of course, you don't yet know that this day is actually incredibly special. It will become a pivotal moment in not only Izuku’s life, but yours as well.  

“Come on, sensei,” Katsuki chuckles arrogantly. “Don’t lump me in with the rest of these shitty extras. They can’t ever hope to get on my level. They’ve all got weak-ass Quirks, through and through.”  

So far, it really is just an ordinary day. By now, you are no stranger to Katsuki’s open displays of egocentrism. Your classmates all know that he's incredibly full of himself, but you know it even better than them, especially after having grown up in the same neighborhood. You know him on a personal level. You're more than aware of what he is truly capable of, and more often than not, it results in Izuku crying. 

Even so, a part of you still yearns for those days in the past, when everything was happy and carefree. There's no doubt that he's a bully, but you want to believe that deep down, he's still the same boy who welcomed you to the neighborhood with an infectious grin and an admirable personality. 

That's why, no matter how far he falls from grace, you still can't bring yourself to resent him. 

You watch attentively as Katsuki proceeds to go on and on about how much better he is  than everyone else, and how he will one day surpass All Might and make history. Perhaps if anyone else was saying such things, it would sound like total nonsense, but Katsuki is strong. With his Quirk and ambition, you have no doubt that he'll keep pushing for the very top.  

For the time being, he's aiming for U.A, the most prestigious hero school in Japan—in the whole world, even, because it's All Might’s alma mater.  

It's the same school that Izuku has always dreamed of attending, and Katsuki loathes hearing about it.  

“Piece of shit Deku,” Katsuki growls, sparking an explosion that knocks Izuku all the way back from his desk. “Are you fucking braindead, or what? You’re a Quirkless loser! In what world can you possibly imagine putting yourself in the same arena as me? Well? Explain it to me, asshole!”  

Your gaze flickers tiredly towards the floor. Yeah. It really is like any other day. Time and time again, Izuku is ridiculed. Not only by Katsuki, but the rest of your classmates as well. Katsuki is a bully, no doubt about it, but the others are no better. Pretty much everyone you’ve ever met looks down on those who are Quirkless, and it makes you angrier than you can even put into words.

Everyone laughs and sneers at Izuku while he's backed against a wall, with tears brimming in his eyes. You can't possibly stand watching any longer, so you stand up and open your arms up to him. For just a moment, it looks like he's hesitating. As if he doesn't want to seek out the comfort of your embrace and prefers to shoulder everything on his own. 

But in the end, he gives in, just like always.  

You hug him tightly, casting a glare towards the rest of the class. “You’re all a bunch of losers. What’s so fun about ganging up on someone? If he wants to apply to U.A, it’s none of your business. Please just cut it out.”  

“Great, [Name] to the rescue,” one of them sighs.  

“She’s always fussing over him. It’s like she’s his mom or something.”  

“Nah, she’s not his mom. She’s his girlfriend, duh. They’re always making googly-eyes at each other. I swear they would both die if they were ever separated.”  

It looks like you've also become the target of their ridicule, but that's nothing new either. For the most part, you avoid using your Quirk on your classmates. It's a lot easier to practice with a close friend, like Izuku, and they're all quite wary of you anyways. They know that you have to kiss someone to use your powers, so they've long dubbed you as some kind of pervert. If you wanted to, you probably could charm them and make them act less awful, but controlling people for your own benefit feels really slimy. Apart from missions, you decide that your Quirk should be reserved for villains that needed to be put in their place, or dangerous situations, like whenever Katsuki gets violent with Izuku.  

“S-Stop that,” Izuku works up the nerve to cut back, but he's still clinging to you, unwilling to let go. “Don’t make fun of [Name]… she hasn’t done anything wrong.” 

You roll your eyes. “Ignore them, Izuku. They’re just butthurt because they don’t know what it’s like to have real friends.”  

The whole time you hold Izuku in your arms, Katsuki has gone awfully quiet. He isn't creating explosions anymore. He just stands there, crimson eyes perfectly fixated on you. His mind is reeling with furious, unspeakable thoughts.  

Whenever Katsuki is so angry that he goes silent, it's never a good sign.  

The situation escalates to the point that once classes are over for the day, Katsuki makes a show of walking over to Izuku’s desk and blowing up one of his hero analysis notebooks.  

“You’ve really been pissing me off these days,” he spits, and much to Izuku’s horror, proceeds to toss the notebook out the window. 

“Katsuki!” you fume. “What the hell are you doing?! Go out there and bring it back!”  

“Shut up. You’ve been pissing me off too.” He steps closer to you and grabs you by the collar of your uniform. The fabric squeezes painfully around your neck, cutting off some of your circulation. “You and Deku both make me sick,” he grimaces. “Always walking around holding hands and shit. Are the two of you already married, or what? You’re so pathetic. When I first met you, I never thought you’d turn out to be this pathetic, [Name].” 

You furrow your brows and push him back. “Stop it,” you warn.   

“Or what?” he challenges. “What, you’ll kiss me? Go ahead and try it. Don’t think I’ll fall for your brainwashing any longer. I’m strong enough to resist your shitty Quirk. Come on, then. Try it. I dare you.” 

It seems like he's challenging you, and you don't know what'll happen once you actually call his bluff. Perhaps you'll be able to act quickly enough to actually charm him, or maybe he’ll beat you up for even trying. You just assume that whatever the case, he's going to make you pay.  

But in reality, Katsuki just wants to feel your lips against his skin. He's mortified by his thoughts, and he'll never admit to them—not even if he's held at gunpoint—but he truly and undeniably wants you to kiss him.  

The fact of the matter is that he doesn't hate you. He’s never hated you. What he really hates is the way you treat Izuku so much better than him. It doesn't make any sense, and there are moments where it actually pisses him off more than Izuku himself.  

He's better than Izuku, or rather, Deku, in every sense of the word. So then, why? Why do you coddle Izuku and embrace him at almost every waking moment? Why is it that it's been so long since he's seen you direct a smile his way, yet you show it to Izuku more times than he can even count?  

Katsuki has long harbored a crush on you. He is a jealous person by nature, and the influence of your Quirk certainly doesn't help. In fact, it can no longer simply be called a crush.  

It's already an infatuation.

“Give it a rest,” you eventually sigh, deciding not to give in to his provocations. “I’m not going to use my Quirk on you, Katsuki. Just stop it. Please go get Izuku’s notebook back. It’s the least you can do after ruining it.”  

Katsuki is incredibly angry. He's so angry, in fact, that he yearns to just yank you by the hair and slam his lips against yours. Better yet, he wants to make Izuku watch. It's the number one thing he fantasizes about. The day that shitty nerd is forced to watch you be torn away from his grasp is the day that Katsuki wins once and for all.  

But because he hasn't yet lost all reason, he doesn't force a kiss on you.  

Instead, he turns around and punches Izuku in the face.  

You wail out at the top of your lungs, and to be honest, it's practically music to Katsuki’s ears. He laughs cruelly as Izuku desperately tries to stifle his sobs, hands flying up to clutch at his throbbing nose, which has already started to bleed.  

“Why?” is all you could think to say. You stare at Katsuki in utter disbelief. “I really thought... you were better than this. I wanted to believe you were. But it’s like you’ve turned into a fucking monster.”  

Katsuki grits his teeth. A monster, huh? So, that’s what you think of him. Fine. If being a monster is what it takes to punish Izuku for constantly stealing you away, then he's more than happy to be a monster.  

“That was a warning,” Katsuki glowers. “Don’t even think of going to U.A, shitty nerd. I’ll seriously kill you. Actually, why don’t you go ahead and jump off the roof while you’re at it? If you’re lucky, there might be a Quirk waiting for you in the afterlife. Ha.”

Katsuki buries his hands in his pockets and trudges out of the room, and even the two underlings that always follow him around look slightly horrified by what just unfolded.  

You are left alone with Izuku, and the most you can do is frantically dab at his bloody nose with a napkin. 

“Izuku,” you whimper. “I’m sorry. I should have acted quicker. M-Maybe if I’d actually used my Quirk, he wouldn’t have hurt you like that. This only happened because of me. I’m so sorry...”  

Izuku has every reason to be upset. One of his treasured notebooks is now in tatters, he's just been told to kill himself, and worse yet, his face is aching uncontrollably. Tears slide down his freckled cheeks, and you can hear how shaky his breathing sounds. 

But despite all of that, the situation isn't entirely bleak. 

Because you are with him. 

His big green eyes, even while blurred by tears, are wide as they gaze upon you. He admires how your chin trembles ever-so-slightly, and that little crease in your brow that conveys how worried you are. He especially likes the the way that your chest jumps up and down as you desperately try to keep it together for him. 

You are so important to him. His best friend in the whole wide world. The only person who’s always stood by his side. And just earlier, you chose him over Katsuki. For so long, Katsuki has always had everything Izuku dreamed of. A powerful Quirk, amazing confidence, and the ability to push through any obstacle that stands in his path.  

But Katsuki doesn't have you, and in that sense, Izuku has him beat.  

That's why, even with the blood dripping from his nose and the sharp pain in his heart, Izuku is still able to smile.  

“I’m okay,” he says, tentatively grabbing one of your hands in his. Your fingers are so soft. He loves the way they fit so naturally against his own.  

Everything hurts, but... with you here, it hurts a lot less.

“As long as you’re with me, I’ll be alright,” Izuku beams.  

In a way, it's somewhat of a threat. Because if you ever leave him, that is the moment everything will fall apart.

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Nicknames with the Lost Boys

Affectionate and Goofy nicknames for and from the boys

Author: SadGhostofGarbage Warnings: this is a crackfic! It’s only semi serious. There is some NSFW headcannons so MDNI!

David:

David’s nicknames for reader: Kitten, Kitty, Kit Cat, Doll face, Beloved, and My Queen (Yes even as a male reader, David believes himself the King so naturally his partner is his other half despite gender. He regards his partner as the chess Queen to his King; here is a lil blurb of how I see the conversation going, the first time it happens.

Male reader x David: “Um David, why did you call me your Queen? I am a whole grown ass man?” “Beloved, you are the most important piece on my chess board, since I'm clearly the King, you are my other half.” The bastard has the audacity to say condescendingly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You do realize that means I should be protecting you right?” That wipes the smirk right off his face, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Absolutely not happening”. He says with teeth grit in a firm line. “You are not putting yourself in any danger ever.” “Then by chess standards that makes you the Queen”. It was your turn for the shit eating grin, the expression on his face was priceless. It is definitely one of your favorite ways to tease him from that moment on. If however it causes you discomfort he will refrain from using it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still tease him with it. You will be punished accordingly after every instance you jokingly call him “my Queen”, but teasing him is half the fun. Side note, Paul tries to help by suggesting you combine the two, “One of you can be, Quee-ing, and the other can be Ki-een. BOOM! Problem solved, you’re welcome!” Spoiler… It does not solve the problem.

Things that David secretly loves being called, its a “secret” because he “doesn’t do nicknames”: Handsome, Cowboy, My King, My one, My love, basically anything that has a possessive edge implying that David is readers everything (Daddy loves to be needed)

Things reader (and the boys) call him that he “hates”: Daviey (Paul’s go to mostly), Marko calls him Daddy as if he were confessing to a Catholic priest during confession; “Daddy I’ve been naughty” instead of “forgive me father for I have sinned”. Chaos ensues and you will catch David chasing Marko around the cave on multiple occasions for this very reason. David won’t admit out loud that he’s okay with his partner calling him Daddy but he does prefer Sir, but if it revs your engines then he will graciously allow you to call him Daddy. Moral of the story… David is a butthead.

Names David actually hates being called: Baby, And any nickname that is overly obnoxious like : Stud muffin, or Pookie.

Dwayne:

Dwayne’s nicknames for reader; Darling, Sweetheart, Baby/Babygirl/Babyboy (if it is Babyboy, just know Paul is jealous), Mama or Nobi for a non gendered version (of a parental name that both he and Laddie call a parental figure reader), Prince/Princess/Princex

Dwayne’s nicknames from the reader and the boys, they are all fair game for D-man: Papa, Big man, D, Snuggle bear, Big Cat, Baby Daddy

Nicknames that are affectionate when it comes from reader, and jokingly when coming from the boys: Gigantus, Tall Dark and Dracula, Skater boy, Dork

Paul:

Paul’s nicknames for Reader: Sugar, babe, bug, Beautiful/Handsome/Gorgeous, Hot Stuff, My cute lil capri sun! If you're still human. Bit will continue to call you that after you become a vamp as well, he just likes biting. (fun fact I looked up when capri-sun came out, the answer? 1969! its cannon!)

Paul’s nicknames from reader and the boys: Paulie, Puppy, Pretty boy, jellybelly~ Paul got high af and cried because his blood wasn’t jelly bean flavored after he ate 12 bags of them. “I wanna be a jellybean damn it” 😭 NSFW: I saw a post going around about sucking Paul’s dick and my brain went… ah a Paulie pop… and now it lives rent free in my head so have that too

Marko:

Marko’s nicknames for reader: Angel, Dove, Love, precious one, Sunshine, Tesoro / my treasure (if you headcannon him as an Italian, as many do 😉) the Juliet to his Romeo if you're a fem reader (until you point out that Juliet was like 13 and Romeo was 16. And comparing your love to that of children was not as romantic as he assumed it was. Those names quickly get abandoned)

Nicknames for Marko: Cassanova, Italian Stallion, Stud, Angel (the first time reader calls him angel you both argue over who gets to call the other angel, and it ends with an intervention from David. “You are both little devils, you brats!” you both continue to call each other angel, and David continues to call you both little devils.)

Nicknames that will get get you (or the boys) in trouble and not the good kind: Cherub, bird boy.

side note, I'd love to hear what nicknames you guys think the boys like being called and call their partners

Taglist: @ria-coolgirl, @britany1997, @henhouse-horrors. If you want added to my Lost Boys taglist lemme know!

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 834 | Inspired by this post of mine |

-

“Hurry it up, Evs,” Barty called over the edge of the roof, peering down at where Evan was climbing out of the Owlery window. Evan’s movements were practiced after years of having snuck out in the same way, and even though he was much bigger than he had been when they had first started doing this, he made it out with ease.

“Don’t rush me, or I’ll lose focus and fall all the way down,” Evan responded before grabbing the lip of the roof and heaving himself up and over.

Barty could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes as Evan gained his footing beside him.

“Please, you could do that with your eyes closed.”

“Yes, well,” said Evan. “You’re very distracting sometimes, you know that?”

Barty’s cheeks flushed, but he blamed it on the chilly wind that whipped through the points and valleys of the castle roof.

Then, with a cheeky smile, Evan was moving, carefully climbing down the steep and shingled slope to get to their spot.

Barty had found it in second year after a particularly bad day, in which McGonagll had passed back assignments and he had been greeted with a nice fat 82%. He’d never hated anything more, because he was a Crouch. He should have performed better, should’ve gotten an one hundred and then some.

Luckily, Barty had fixed that way of thinking in the time since. Partially due to Evan, who always, without fail, followed Barty whenever he disappeared in order to make sure he was okay.

That simple fact was why Evan was the only other one who knew about this spot. And of course, Barty still liked to come here after bad days, but as of the last couple of years it had become more of a hangout place just for the two of them.

It was Barty’s favorite place in the entire school.

Evan’s cheeks were flushed as he turned back to face Barty and ask, “You coming?”

His eyebrow raised in that familiar expression of his that Barty loved so much. Merlin, how did Evan not know?

“Yes, I’m coming,” Barty responded with a grin. He didn’t look where his feet were going before he stepped, much too intent on taking in Evan up here in the chilly October air, his own version of Evan that no one else would ever get to see.

Their knees knocked together as they sat down on the edge, feet dangling in open air. When they were younger, they had been separated by several inches, but they had slowly moved closer and closer until they were sharing each other’s warmth and breathing each other’s air. Barty tried not to read into it too much.

“I’ve got a present for you,” Evan said suddenly, turning to look at Barty. He reached a hand into the pockets of his robe, fist curled tightly around it to keep it from view. Not that it stopped Barty from craning his neck to try and see, though.

“Don’t get too excited,” Evan warned, but it was too late. Barty already loved it, whatever it was. Not that he knew what the occasion for it was, or could even foster a guess.

Evan motioned for Barty to hold out a hand, and Barty dutifully obeyed. A smile spread across his face as Evan dropped a familiar-looking box into his outstretched palm.

“A chocolate frog?” asked Barty, smiling softly back up at Evan.

“Yes,” Evan said, and didn’t elaborate. Barty waited.

“Fine,” Evan sighed, perhaps knowing well enough by now that Barty was more than content to wait and hear his thoughts. “It’s just, I read about this thing that Muggle kids do on Halloween, where they dress up in little costumes and go around to different houses. And there’s something about how if they do a trick, they’ll get a treat.” He nodded to the chocolate frog in Barty’s hand, which had been temporarily forgotten about in favor of looking at Evan as he spoke.

“Anyways,” Evan continued, “I just thought, since we never really got to have anything like that, it’d be kind of… nice. To have something, I mean.”

It was nice, Barty thought. They’d never really gotten to have much of a childhood, and both of their parents wouldn’t have let them be caught dead doing a Muggle tradition. So Evan purposely going against that to give Barty a little taste of that life they’d never get to live, well. It warmed him from head to toe, even with the cold breeze blowing around them.

Except…

“I didn’t do a trick, though.”

Evan just shrugged. “The world’s tricky enough already,” he said. “I don’t see why we should have to make it even trickier just to get a treat.”

Barty smiled, even though it made his frozen cheeks hurt. And as he sat up on that roof, eating the treat Evan had given him, he couldn’t decide which was sweeter—the chocolate, or getting to be there, right by Evan’s side.

-

[lyraoftheevergreens]

The Realms Enchantress

Chapter 4

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader!Niece, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC,

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: minor errors in spelling and grammar, Targaryen Inscest, mentions of sex, oral female and male receiving, talk of nudity, mentions of death and blood, mother murdered, dead babies, depression, periods, vulgar language. If your watching hotd than you should already know that stuff written about it will not be clean in the slightest.

Author Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, life happened and as we all know it tends to suck at times. This is somewhat edited but please be kind. I’m not gonna lie, I’m not very happy with this chapter but I hope you all enjoy it

Word count: 2.3k

Previous Chapter

You’re in your chambers sat on the settee looking out the window having a cup of tea when there is a knock, your sworn protector announces that the Queen wishes to speak with you. You stood and gave a curt nod and he stepped aside allowing her to enter.

“Your grace.” You curtsied to her.

“Will you be joining us for the hunt in honor of Aegon’s name day?”

“My apologies your grace. I hadn’t prepared to nor do I find hunting pleasant.”

“You could always join me with the other ladies in the tents. Your sister will be joining us.”

“You spoke with Rhaenyra?”

“I have. In truth, it needn’t be this way. Between all of us. None of it needs be.”

“Alicent, you were her closest friend and now you are married and with child from her father. What did you truly expect from her?”

“I tried explaining to her but she wouldn’t hear it.”

“So explain to me. How is it that after my mother dies only a year after my father has plans to wed you?”

“My father had me visit your father after your mother’s passing. To be a friend to him in his time of grief.”

“I should have known your father would play a part in this.”

“We quite enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Thank you, your grace. I believe I have some packing to do seeing the hunt typically last two nights.”

You continued to pack for the hunt seeing as there was no way to get out of it. Alicent had managed to convince Rhaenyra to join so it only seems right that you do as well. Truly you didn’t hate Alicent. You understood she merely just did as her father had asked of her. Just wanting to make him happy. You of all people understood the need to please a parent.

Once in the carriage and on the way to the woods your father attempted to make small talk to help with the uncomfortable silence.

“How lovely. My two daughters, my wife, and my son all together on this joyous occasion. How are you fairing y/n my dear?”

“I’m quite well. Thank you, father.”

“Alicent, should you be traveling in such condition?” Rhaenyra ask.

“The master said that being out in nature would do me well.” Alicent responded and your father added in, “Hopefully one of you will be with your own child, sooner rather than later. And make me a proud grandsire.”

“It’s all that bad. The days are long but Aegon came quickly without a fuss.” Alicent added in.

“The two of you should ride out with me. Join in on the chase.” Your father said and as usual, Rhaenyra was the first to retort.

“I’d rather not. The boars squeal like children when they’re being slaughtered. I find it discomforting.”

“Then how else will you participate? It’s a hunt Rhaenyra. How would you like to participate?”

“I’m not sure why I must.” Rhaenyra snapped back.

“Because you are my daughter. The princess. And you have duties.”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

“I’m sorry?”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Rhaenyra retorted louder

“You wouldn’t need to be reminded if you ever attended to them.”

“No ones here for me. Besides Y/n is your daughter as well. I don’t hear you incessantly reminding her of her duties.”

“Because you are my heir Rhaenyra. And your sister has never failed to perform her duties as princess of the realm. Y/n how do you plan on participating in the hunt?”

“I planned on remaining with the other ladies of the court. If you would like for me to ride out with you I shall, just do not ask of me to remain for any slaughtering.” You responded to your father.

“See, your sister has no problems communicating properly. Why must you be so difficult at times Rhaenyra?”

Rhaenyra just turned and glared at you. You all sat in an uncomfortable silence on the ride to the godswood forest.

It didn’t last long till Father and Rhaenyra got into an argument at the hunt. That you weren’t there for seeing as you were hiding away in your tent attempting to rest from the stressful carriage ride.

Rhaenyra took off on her horse and Sir Criston followed her. Eventually, you got on your horse in search of them. The sun had already set when you had found them. Sir Criston started a fire in which the three of you sat around it.

“Do you remember that one time? We both snuck off on Dirrax to Dragon Stone.” Rhaenyra started recounting the days of mischief the two of you shared.

“Yes. I wouldn’t exactly call it sneaking given the size of him but yes. Mother and father were furious. You were 10 and 1 years of age and I 10 and 5 years of age.”

“It was nice though. Away from court.”

“I agree. Perhaps we can return sometime. Just the two of us.” Ser Criston told stories of his childhood as both Rhaenyra and Y/n listened and told stories of there. Sneaking into the kitchens and stealing cakes. Taking sips of their uncle's wine when he wasn’t holding onto his cup.

“That was hard. Uncle Daemon not have his goblet in his hand. Is like a knight not having his sword on his side.” The girls laughed all night. “Princesses I must make a final plea that we return to camp.”

“I rather like it out here. What says you sister?” Ask Rhaenyra

“I quite like it as well.” You respond.

“Your grace is likely to be worried by your absences.” Ser Criston spoke up.

“His grace can worry himself to death if he so likes. Tell me Ser Criston, do you think the realm will ever accept me as their queen?”

“They have no choice but to, princess.” You three sat in silence as the horses began to fret. Ser Criston unsheathed his sword as twigs began to crack. He began to walk towards the noise when a wild bore came out of the bushes and knocked him to the ground. It turned and charged at Rhaenyra. It was then that y/n rose and stabbed it from behind while Rhaenyra held it back by its shoulders from biting her. The stabs did nothing to subdue the animal. It wasn’t till Ser Criston pierced its body with his sword that the beast fell. Both princesses lay catching their breath when the animal started to rise and growl, Rhaenyra stabbed the animal until it well passed unmoving, taking all her aggression out on it. Rhaenyras stabs got slower, as she began to cry. Y/n grabbed Rhaenyra and pulled her off the animal and into her. Rhaenyra dropped the dagger and began to cry to her sister. Y/n held her till her sobs stopped and they lay together till morning.

“Nyra. Is it just Jason Lannister you don’t wish to marry or is it something else?”

“While no I don’t wish to marry a Lannister. How will I ever know someone is marrying me for me and not my crown? For a chance to become king. My husband can kill me and become king. I can die on the birthing bed as our mother did. Y/n I am scared.”

“I understand Nyra. And I shall protect you. We will ride back to camp. And I will propose a tour. It will give us time to think of a plan that pleases Father. You understand?”

“Yes. I understand.”

The three of you began your journey back to camp and took a moment to view the horizon. When a white stag appeared. Ser Criston began to unsheathe his sword and Rhaenyra quickly told him no in a hushed tone to not startle the animal. The three of you stayed and gazed at its beauty before returning to camp. When returned to camp sir Criston took the boar to the cooks. While the rest of camp including your father and the Hightowers watched as you and Rhaenyra made your way to the tent covered in blood from the boar. Once returned to the castle you and Rhaenyra agree to speak to your father on the morrow.

Rhaenyra meets you at your chambers with the Kingsguard.

“Why do you bring fathers, men?”

“He has requested our presence.” She answers. The two of you make your way to your father escorted by his guards to the council meeting chambers where he is instructing Ser Addam to make haste with a message to Prince Daemon at Drawfstone.

“Drawfstone?” Questions Rhaenyra.

“I’m sending word to Daemon. Aid is sailing to the step stones.”

“Did he make a call for help?” You ask.

“He would sooner die. But his king does not mean to allow that.” Rhaenyra and you both sit. “Do you not think my decision correct?”

“It is no consequence to what I think as I am so often reminded.”

“Daemon is thorn enough in my flesh. Will you insist on taking after him? Must everything be a battle?”

“If you refer to your attempt to marry me off to Casterly Rock.”

“I am sorry, Rhaenyra. I was trying to help you. Will you not be helped? Why must every effort on your behalf be resisted as if to the death?”

“Because you mean to replace me with Alicent Hightower’s son, the boy you always wanted. You have him in your hands now. You have no further use for me. You might as well peddle me for what you can. Who’s to stop you from doing the same to y/n? A mount stronghold or a fleet of ships. Perhaps both, you have two daughters to peddle.”

“You have misjudged, girls.”

“All know it. Jason Lannister knows it. You said it yourself, the lords of the realm gather like vultures to a carcass hoping to feast on my bones.”

“It is true that as rulers we must marry for advantage, to forge alliances and bolster our strength. You have always understood this. I myself was promised to your mother when I was-“

“Ten and seven years of age. The Vale had an army to rival the North. I’ve heard that story since I’ve had ears too. As I’m sure y/n has too.”

“I loved her. She made a man of me. I do not seek to replace you, child. You’ve both been much alone these last few years. Alone and angry. I will not live forever. I wish to see you contented, happy even. Both my girls.”

“You think a man will do it?” Rhaenyra speaks.

“A family.”

“I had a family. We had a family!” Rhaenyra shouts. You take hold of her hand to remind her not to say something she shall regret.

“What would you have me do?”

“If it were for advantage, you would’ve wed Laena Velaryon!”

“That is true enough. You must marry, strengthen your own claim, shore up your succession, and multiply. As to your match, make it yourself. Search him out. Find one that pleases you, as I did.”

“I would like to propose an idea. We go on tour. Find a match.”

“That is a wonderful idea y/n. Girls.” A pause,” I did waver. At one time. But Rhaenyra I swear to you now, on your mother’s memory, you will not be supplanted.” With that, you both walked away. “Y/n. Stay behind dear.”

Once Rhaenyra was gone and the doors closed your father began to speak.

“As I said to your sister. You shall make your own match. But as my first born I ask, perhaps you can whisper in your sister’s ear about Laenor Velaryon. It could strengthen her claim to the throne. As for you. I would like you to think about Harrwin Strong. If you find love on the tour I will not stand in the way, if you do not. Please consider Ser Harwin.”

“You do not send aid for your brother. You send aid to ensure the safety of Laenor Velaryons’ life. You don’t care for Daemon's life. Lord Corlys will protect his son. Daemon is alone.”

“Daemon wishes to get himself killed he will do it on his own accord.”

“And you’ve just pushed him to it. He will never accept your aid! As you said he would sooner die before asking for help, by sending it you have pushed him to his death.”

“I will never understand your infatuation with him.”

“And you never shall. He will have one thing on his mind, defeating the triarchy before your ships arrive! All reason will be gone from his mind.”

“Then that shall be his own doing!”

“Then his blood will be on your hands just as Mothers is!” With that, you took your leave.