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catsukiiee · 1 month ago

Note

I like that your version of Hispanic Sero isn't a druggie 😭 Can you write more of him? Both of them being equally toxic if you can

YES MA'AM! 😋

# NO CHILL. | SITUATIONSHIP SERIES.

౨ৎ sero hanta x fem!reader

start reading the messages from left to right!

"K" is the start of the first messages

writing the texts had me giggling so much, the way i gagged myself writing sero's response

wordcount ; 1k

paragraphs ; 54

sentences ; 94

songs used.

main song ; no chill by partynextdoor.

beginning of car ride scene ; jaded by drake

car scenes ; ballin' by partynextdoor

in this au there is no quirks.

sero is nineteen instead of his canon age of 24.

he's 6'1 instead of his canon height.

sero is hispanic & japanese

he's not obsessed with drugs or goes around selling drugs because i'm tired of that borderline racist stereotype! he's a hard working mf with a good apartment and a car 🗣️ but yes he does smoke weed here and there like any other person that smokes weed here and there 🤷‍♂️

content ; smut with plot, fingerfucking, car sex, messy situationship (both of you are TOXIC AF.)

reader and sero aren't in a official relationship, this is more of a messy situationship between them and possibly bakugo if i decide to make this into a series because making the texts is so fun y'all 💀

"This fucking asshole." You sat at the bar, glaring at your phone before shutting it off and slamming it down on the counter screen first.

Why was he being so wishy-washy? Everything was cool, then he goes off to hang with some girl you’d never even seen before. Just thinking about that picture Mina sent made your blood boil.

"What’s up with your face?" Bakugo grunted, leaning on the bar with his elbows, looking as grumpy as ever. "Nothing." You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. Yep, a headache was definitely coming in.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Wait, is he serious?

You opened your eyes slowly and looked at Bakugo, your surprise clear as he rolled his eyes, his frown deepening. "Something’s bothering you, so spill it,"

Wow, he’s actually serious.

You couldn’t help but smile a little, leaning in closer as you watched him check you out, staying exactly where he stood, leaving just a bit of space between you two. "Is Katsuki Bakugo actually offering an ear?"

He scoffed and turned away, leaning back against the bar with his drink, obviously trying to act like he doesn't care. "Forget it."

Cute.

"Bakugo." You grabbed his arm and slid off your seat to stand in front of him. The height difference had you craning your neck to meet his gaze. "What." He huffed, his eyes lingering on your chest for a second before he looked away.

You were about to tease him, your hand sliding up his arm to squeeze his bicep, but then you noticed the annoyed look in his red eyes, directed at someone behind you.

"This bastard, why does he always have to show up?" Bakugo grumbled, lifting his drink to his lips, still glaring at whoever was behind you over the rim of his glass.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who he was talking about.

"He can’t be serious right now." You sighed, letting go of Bakugo’s arm as you turned to face Sero, who was striding toward you with the same annoyed expression as Bakugo, dark eyes glued on the ash-blonde, like you weren't standing there at all. You could feel the tension between the two of them even before he reached you two.

"You." Sero ignored Bakugo completely and grabbed your arm. "We’re leaving, thanks for keeping her company." He shot Bakugo a fake smile and pulled you closer. All you heard was a scoff and the sound of a glass being slammed down on the bar, followed by a sudden heat on your back as Bakugo grabbed your other arm. "Stop acting like you're in charge of her, it's fucking annoying."

Ah shit.

Neither of them said another word; they just glared at each other over your head, their grips on your arms tightening a bit. You could feel the stares from some other clubgoers who were sober enough to realize something was going on.

"Okay, that’s enough, I’m done. Take me home." You yanked your arms free from both of them and stormed past, bumping your shoulder into Sero’s arm.

The chilly air outside hit your warm skin just as Sero called your name again, the muffled club music blaring for a second before the doors closed behind him, the gravel crunching under your heels and his shoes as he rushed after you.

The silence between you and Sero didn’t last long. He was right on your ass in no time. “Are you serious? Going out with Bakugo and his crew? To a club?”

His crew? Since when did he have problems with Mina, Kaminari, and Kirishima?

“Don’t even start, Sero. I really don’t want to hear it.” You shot back, spinning around so fast you almost bumped into him. “You do this all the time! We hang out, hook up, and then you run off to mess around with some other girl.”

You were practically nose to nose, both of you in each other’s space. “I didn’t hook up with her, so why are you acting like I did? I bet you were planning to fuck Bakugo just because of those dumb fucking assumptions that you love to leap to all the time.”

Oh, this bitch.

“I can’t deal with this right now. Just drive me home.” You turned away and headed for his car. “Whatever,” he muttered, falling silent.

The walk to the car was quiet, Sero opened the door for you, setting your purse and jacket at your feet then closed your door before getting in the driver’s seat. Even when he was mad, he was still a gentleman to you.

Still doesn't excuse his bullshit..

Neither of you said a word as the car started up and he pulled out of the parking spot, “Jaded” by Drake filling the silence, the city lights blurring by. But of course, Sero had to break the quiet. “Were you going to fuck Bakugo?”

"Oh my fucking God. Not now Sero."

“That pretty much answers it then, sorry to cockblock.” He scoffed, the car starting to pick up in speed.

You shot him a look like he was crazy—because he fucking was. “Can you just drive me home without pissing me off? Holy shit.”

Your outburst had him gripping the steering wheel tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Okay.” He finally said, the car going silent once again, then right his hand slid off the wheel to rest on your thigh, something he always did when he drove you two around. You were far too pissed off for his shit though. Just as you were about to push his hand away, his fingers slipped right between your thighs, making your dress ride up in the process.

“Sero. I'm seriously not in the mood for this, sex won't fix that I'm pissed with you.” You warned, grabbing his wrist before he could go any further. “Okay.” He replied, his face and voice completely calm.

Silence from both of you.

You couldn’t think straight with his fingers rubbing slow circles so close to where you really wanted him. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

This smug rat.

“¿Por qué dijiste mi nombre, cariño?” His fingers moved your panties aside as soon as you spread your legs, and the soft gasps escaping you only made his grin wider. “Habla, princesa.”

translation ;

"¿Por qué dijiste mi nombre, cariño?" = "Why did you say my name, baby?"

"Habla princesa." = "Speak princess."

You turned your head away, biting your knuckles to keep quiet, focusing on the flashing city lights. Sero was quiet again, sliding two fingers deep inside you, making your back arch off the seat, the seatbelt holding you back just a bit.

“Sero…” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand while your other hand grabbed at his wrists as he started pumping his fingers in and out at a slow pace, going knuckles deep each time his digits sunk back in, the wet squelches each time had you blushing and Sero chuckling softly.

The slow pace he had going didn’t last for long, impatient as ever to hear you get louder. Before you knew it, his fingers were hitting you hard, each thrust making your thighs shake. Your grip on his wrist was abandoned in a instant, moving to grab onto the back of your thighs to keep your left leg apart. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh Fuck,” you moaned out, breathless, the last “Fuck” turning into a high-pitched whimper.

Sero's driving was getting a little messy, sometimes speeding up out of nowhere, making you both jerk when he quickly slowed down. With one hand fingerfucking the soul from your body, he was a bit distracted, and the growing tightness in his jeans wasn’t helping either. “Fuck this, I’m pulling over.” He found a dark spot under the freeway bridge in no time, driving recklessly the whole way.

Once the car was parked and the lights were low, he had you both in the backseat. His hands were all over you, roughly grabbing at the small of your back, your hips and waist, and your ass, and your hands were tangled in his hair. He kissed you like he didn't have you hours ago. Your breathy moans being met with his and a wide grin.

Sero was the type who didn’t hold back on the moans, matching your sounds with his own. Hearing him moan with no shame drove you wild, and he knew it.

“Hold on, cariño, let me help you.” He chuckled against your lips as your hands fumbled with his belt and zipper. The kiss temporarily forgotten as you both leaned back, working together to unbutton his pants and push them down to his ankles, boxers included.

translation ; "cariño" = "babe" "baby" or "sweetheart"

“Estas tan mojado, quien te mojó así, ¿eh?” He groaned into your neck, biting down on your collarbone hard enough to leave a mark while his hands grabbed at your ass. When you didn’t answer, he smacked your ass hard, making you jolt forward and tug at his hair with a whine. “You did,” you moaned, leaning down to kiss him again, both of you groaning into each other’s mouths as he lowered you onto his dick with ease. "Uh huh, I did that."

translation ; "Estas tan mojado, quien te mojó así, ¿eh?" = (roughly) "You're so wet, who got you this wet, huh?"

Holding onto the backseat, you started off slow, moving in little circles on his dick, your faces just inches apart, your breaths mingling. He had one hand on your ass, guiding you, while the other cupped the back of your neck, keeping your eyes locked.

But just like him, your patience was short, switching between grinding and bouncing on his dick, your moans rising, making him grip your neck tighter. "Ahí está, mi pequeño bebé, si tan solo supieras cómo comportarte," he groaned, lifting his hips to meet your bounces. "Nuh uh, baby. Keep those eyes on me."

translation ; "Ahí está, mi pequeño bebé, si tan solo supieras cómo comportarte." = "There she is, my little baby, if only you knew how to fucking behave."

Your moans almost sounded like a growl, fully bouncing on him now, his grip on your neck loosening until he moved both hands to your ass, helping you along as the car started to rock with your movements. "I hate you," you moaned out, the moan ending in a sharp gasp, sliding one hand off the seat to grab his throat. Sero grinned at that, giving your both your ass cheeks a couple of harsh smacks before he started pounding up into you, his hands grabbing at your hips to keep you pressed down on him, making you both moan loudly into each other's mouth. "Oh yeah?" he chuckled, breathless. "Show me how much you hate me then."

None of y'all understand how unhinged I am about Hispanic men 🌚 half the time they ain't shit but goddamn do I love those mfs. As much as I love them and messy shit, may this type of love NEVER find me ever again 😭🙏 y'all stay safe though!

If I were to make this a Sero series it would be called "The Situationship Series" and yes I would make it a messy love triangle between you, Sero, and Bakugo 😋 There is no happy ending! You just get two hot dudes fighting over, your feelings played with, and your back blown out by both of them on multiple occasions!

And if anyone is looking for updates on the Iida fic, y'all are gonna have to wait a bit longer 😭...

#x reader #hanta sero smut #my hero academia smut #katsuki bakugo smut #hanta sero x reader #catsukiiee asks

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annievrse · 1 year ago

Text

it's a bad idea, right?

eren x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: seeing your ex after a night out… it’s a bad idea, right? cw: 18+, smut (afab!reader, unprotected sex, creampie), exes to lovers, swearing. w/c: 4.5k a/n: first time writing a ~proper~ smut, kinda bad, kinda fucking terrified to post but, we move 💪 olivia's new song is perfect for an exes to lovers whore such as myself, so i had to use it in a fic. enjoy :)

Despite having the same friends, you hadn’t seen or heard from your ex for 2 months. The break-up was mutual, something about growing apart and wanting different things. Sure, you were upset, devastated even, but something inside you that knew you’d hold him again. And somehow, that one sliver of hope had wrapped around your heart and held it hostage.

It’s how you found yourself at Moose with your two friends, Hitch and Annie, on the brink of passing out. The club’s multicoloured lights gave you a headache, and the generous amount of alcohol you had consumed an hour earlier started to wear off, but you continued to dance, laugh, and sing with the two girls.

You held your phone in your hand as you threw your arms in the air. The room was lively and had been the best night you’d had at Moose in the past few months (or maybe it was because you knew who would call you tonight…).

But when Hitch slapped you on the arm, and the phone in your hand started vibrating simultaneously, you had an inkling of who was calling.

“Don’t answer it,” Hitch yelled over the music, her eyes narrowed.

You shrugged and, without looking, declined the call. “Who was it?”

“Don’t act dumb,” She shook her head, still jumping around.

You rolled your lips between your teeth, and your heart started pounding faster. There was only one person who could elicit that tone from Hitch.

You kept a playful smile on your face, and it remained when your phone rang again. But, this time, you faced the screen toward your body so the girls wouldn’t see.

Eren’s name flashed on the screen, along with his contact photo: him with bedhead, shirtless, with the biggest smile on his face. Why his contact was still in your phone, with that specific photo, was beyond you, but all questions were out of your head when you turned around and left the dance floor without explanation.

Swiping right to answer, you brought your phone to your ear. “What?” It probably wasn’t the most polite thing to say, but you were half-drunk, and your feet hurt.

“Hi to you too, baby.”

The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in months.

“Eren,” You said, squeezing through groups to get to the bar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great, actually, now that I’m talking to you.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice over the music, and that’s when you could tell you were in trouble. “What’s up?”

He hummed into the receiver, but you could barely catch it. “Wanna come over tonight?”

“Why?” You asked, but it was playful.

“I got a new place. Wanna give you a tour.”

“Do you? Well, where was this call, I don’t know, a month ago?”

Eren groaned into his phone. “Just come! Please, I miss you.”

You paused as you were adjusting your spot on the bar stool. “You want me to come over?”

“Do you want to come over?”

“Yes,” Your voice was breathless as you answered, and Eren’s soft laughter in the background wasn’t helping. “As friends.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll text you the address, bestie,” He said. “Can’t wait to see you.”

And then he hung up. You knew what he wanted because you wanted it too.

Flashes of Eren played on a loop in your head: the last time you saw him, the first time, him smiling at you in that cocky way of his, his body on top of yours, his under yours… it was insanity.

“Why’d you leave?” Hitch shouted in your ear. You jumped, a guilty look on your face that you hoped she and Annie wouldn’t notice.

“I feel sick. I think I might go home,” You cringed at how the words came out of your mouth.

And when Annie side-eyed Hitch, you knew they knew you were lying.

“I’ll just get an Uber,” You unlocked your phone and clicked on the app, receiving a text from Eren simultaneously.

How convenient.

Typing in 843 Campanula Street, CS Apartments, you knew you should stop, but you couldn’t. A car popped up: 5 minutes away.

Getting up to leave, you knew they would follow you outside. So, you held Hitch’s hand and pulled her, who pulled Annie out of the crowd and out of the entrance. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and stepped out into the warm night air.

“You should probably not see Eren tonight. You’re not in the right headspace,” Hitch said behind you. She knew you were lying about feeling sick, so you may as well play into it.

“Can’t two people reconnect?” You teased, glancing over your shoulder.

“Bullshit,” Annie stated boredly.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

“Listen, I only see him as a friend,” You rolled your eyes. “We’re done, we’re through, we’re never ever getting back together, okay?”

Hitch and Annie shared a look. You’d just told the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You looked down the road for your Uber.

Then Hitch choked out a laugh and Annie sighed. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Hitch said softly after she finished coughing.

You shook your head. “I won’t. Besides, I’m going straight home. I’ll ask him what’s up in the morning.”

Hitch nodded knowingly. “Yeah, okay. Have fun at home. Text us when you get there.”

Your Uber pulled up next to the curb. You smiled at Hitch and wrapped your arms around her neck. “See you.”

Turning toward Annie, you only grinned, making her look more bored. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You threw your hands up in defence. “I’m not. I’m going home.”

“Bye then,” Annie waved and turned to reenter the club. Hitch stayed a little longer to ensure the Uber left, waving enthusiastically after it.

You knew you should stop, but you couldn’t.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

—

When the elevator dinged, you stepped out onto the second floor. It was a nice complex with white walls, gold door handles, and dark, clean carpet, an upgrade from his previous apartment complex just off-campus.

The floor was quiet for a Saturday night, except for the bass from party music coming from the lower floor. The carpet was plush under your feet, and the hanging lights were gold too. Maybe you were more tipsy than you thought as you picked out details you would’ve before.

You saw nobody as you passed the first apartments. But, as you turned the corner of the hallway, Eren was standing in the doorway of the last apartment with a cocky grin.

“Hey,” he called. You looked around and hushed him. It was 1am, after all. “Pish, they’re probably all out anyway.”

You felt your face heat up when you got closer, feeling self-conscious in your party dress and shoeless feet. But you couldn’t stop looking at him. Somehow, in the last 2 months, Eren had gotten more attractive. His black t-shirt was taut against his chest and biceps. His hair was pulled back into its usual half-bun, but the pieces in the front made him look prettier. You swore you’d seen someone much hotter for your sanity, but nobody came to mind. God, he really encapsulated everything you’d ever want and need.

“Seeing you tonight… It’s a bad idea, right?” You giggled, swinging your heels in your hand.

“I’d say it’s the best idea ever, but depends on who you ask,” His eyes raked up your body as you walked toward him. “Besides, just friends, right?”

The dimple you’d missed appeared on his cheek as he smirked, and your confidence grew.

“We’re the best of friends,” At the sound of your voice so low and sultry, Eren blinked.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when you reached him, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your cheek flush against his chest. The action didn’t surprise you because you would do the same.

“Hi,” He whispered before pushing you away, his hands still on your shoulders.

You were going to speak, but your brain short-circuited. The rational side of your brain continuously asked you why, why, why, while the other side screamed at you to kiss him. It was a jumble of static and blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

All you could think about was him.

Fuck it, it’s fine!

“Wanna show me,” You paused, flickering your eyes to his. The usual bright green of his eyes turned darker, and his grip on your shoulders tightened—his hands were burning your skin. “The apartment?”

This seemed to snap Eren out of his daze because he shook his head to rid his thoughts, then nodded, stepping back and widening the door to welcome you.

“Uh, yeah, so…” Eren stumbled, closing the door behind him. “This is the apartment.”

You walked inside, placing your purse on the granite kitchen counter and your heels on the floor.

“It’s lovely,” You muttered. From the couch to the posters and photos on the walls, it was so Eren, but it was mature. And it was lovely, different, attractive, but your attention wasn’t on the decor. It was on the owner of said decor, but you weren’t going to make that obvious yet.

Eren rubbed the back of his neck as he watched you look around the space: into the open-plan living room, down the small hallway to the bathroom and the spare bedroom, and then back into the kitchen and to the lone door on the other side of the living room.

“Your bedroom?” You asked, your voice light. You weren’t giving anything away yet. It was risky being here in the first place. There were reasons why you broke up, but you didn’t care at that moment. This was more fun than ignoring each other.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eren teased, breaking out of his frozen state to meet you at the door.

The air was charged like it used to be, but you dismissed it, making a beeline for the couch—a large L-shaped black leather lounge. As soon as you sat down, all the aching in your back dissipated as you sunk deeper into the throw cushions. You groaned in relaxation, propping your feet up.

“Why do you always get the comfiest couches?” You closed your eyes. “S’not fair.”

Eren didn’t say anything as you shuffled around to get comfortable, pulling the hem of your dress down your legs. He looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 01:47.

“You tired, hm?” He asked, and you nodded, pretending to yawn. Eren narrowed his eyes when you did so. He’d seen that action before, the lesser version of your actual yawn—he’d seen the real one too many times to know when you were faking.

“Guess I’ll take you home then.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you shook your head. But when you saw Eren, a cocky smirk rested on his face, much like when you arrived.

“I knew you were faking,” He laughed, stalking toward you. You pouted and looked up at him, your gaze catching his for a second before you looked away.

“A more detailed tour, please,” You reached out your hand, and Eren pulled you up.

The momentary touch of skin on skin was enough to fry your brain for a few minutes as you mechanically followed him into the bathroom, where you washed your face with his face wash, then into the spare bedroom to look at the view from the window, and finally, into Eren’s bedroom off the living room.

Nothing was said as you entered, but the smell of his room was the same as it had always been—it was just in a different space without you to experience it. Cedar, geranium, bergamot, apple. It was the scent you bought him for his 19th birthday 4 years ago when you first started dating. You were stepping into a time machine, and all the emotions that came with it hit you in the face.

You willed yourself not to cry as you turned your back to him to look over his desk. You ignored the few extra things he’d gathered without you in the two months you’d be apart, but it was all the same. It was Eren.

“You like it?” He mumbled, the heat on your back making sense. You didn’t realise how close he was standing until he spoke, his hands on the desk beside you, caging you in.

“It’s very you, Ren. The whole thing,” You spun around, your hips against his. “I really like it.”

He smiled in relief and let his eyes wander your expression, recounting every mark, pore, scar on your face that he had memorised. It was all the same. You were still you.

“I’m glad,” He breathed. “Thanks, bestie.”

But you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were focused on his mouth. The realisation made Eren lick his lips again, but you noticed they twitched with anticipation this time.

“This okay?” You whispered, slowly wounding your arms around his neck and pushing your hips harder against his.

“You’re kidding, right?” He smirked, gaining his confidence back. His hands slid from the desk to your hips, and he leaned closer, breaths mixing, lips lingering. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Eren’s lips brushed yours as he spoke. And you almost caved. Your fingers played with the loose hairs of his half-bun, and the action reminded you that you’d done this before, more than you could count—but never in the situation you were in right then.

“Fuck it.”

You don’t know who made the first move, but soon Eren was swiping everything off his desk and onto the floor so he could lift you onto his desk. You spread your legs apart and locked your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer. The kisses were sloppy and hasty, making up for lost time. You smiled when he began pushing the hem of your dress higher, his teeth tapping yours as he grinned too.

Panting into each other’s mouths, you slid your hands down his chest and into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I want these off,” You mumbled, getting your nails under his briefs and pulling them down with his pants.

“Well, I want this off,” Eren laughed, reaching behind you to fiddle with the zipper on the back. The sudden exposure of your back to the hot air of his bedroom sent goosebumps over your skin.

The front of your dress began to loosen, and soon, Eren pulled away from you, his hands carefully dragging the straps of your dress down your arms. His sweats were halfway down his legs, and his briefs sat awkwardly over his ass, but he couldn’t care less, not when you looked the way you did.

The more you reflect on that night, the more you disagree. The thought of being in a club not an hour ago left you feeling gross and probably smelling gross too. But at that moment, you didn’t care because you were with him, in his new room and apartment, and all you could think about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

Eren laughed breathlessly at the sight of your tits, and when your dress was at your waist, he cupped them with his palms. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

When Eren leaned down to press kisses to your neck, you reached your hands to play with his hair again. “I… missed you… too.”

“Tell me what you want,” He breathed heavily into the space under your ear when he heard you struggle around the words.

You whined in response, tilting your head back.

He laughed lowly. “I know you know how to use your words, pretty girl.”

The pet name caused a moan to escape your throat, and soon you were clenching around nothing. Your mind was far away, head in the clouds, from being with him like this again. “You…”

“Where?” He pulled away from your neck, his lips plump. “Where do you want me?”

“Eren…” You frowned, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him. Eren’s eyes retraced your expression, his hands brushing stray strands from your face.

A cheeky grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re so damn cute.”

“Everywhere,” You finalised, leaning up to capture his lips with yours.

Eren got the message and wrapped his large hands under your thighs to pick you up. Your legs remained around him as he expertly approached the bed without looking.

“Gotten a lot of practice at that?” You joked, breathless.

But, Eren shook his head and kissed your cheek. “There’s only ever been you.”

The thought brought heat to your ears, cheeks, and body, and soon, you were burning. “Me too.”

“Fuck,” He half-laughed, half-groaned, laying you on the bed. Eren gave you a crazy grin before he opened his mouth, biting your shoulder. You tried to push him away, giggling, but you never forgot his strength. He went down your body, pulling your dress down your legs as he went, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your stomach. Gripping the sheets, you arched, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the feverish marks they leave. But before he reached your underwear, he sat back his heels and pulled his shirt over his head by the back collar—like he always did.

There was nothing to be shy about, you’d done this a thousand times with him, but you placed a hand on your torso nonetheless. When Eren noticed this, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Nuh, uh, no being shy around me,” he whispered and picked your hand up, holding it as he leaned over you. You quickly spread your legs to make room for him between them, and he wasted no time filling the space, tucking his other arm underneath your shoulders and lifting you up so your chests were flush. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and will ever see, understand? Us not being together doesn’t change that.”

You sighed, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the moment or the weeks of not speaking to the one man you trusted with your life, but you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out next.

“I love you,” You mumbled, lifting your free hand up to fun through his hair, pulling the rest out of the bun.

Eren smiled a tender smile you knew all too well, which he reserved for you during moments like this. “And I love you. I’m gonna show you how much, okay? Will you let me do that?” Eren’s voice was soft and warm, your skin ablaze, and your heart grew tenfold.

You nodded, searching his eyes with your own. All you saw was tenderness, infatuation, and everything you had grown accustomed to in the last 4 years. You pressed your lips against him in a quick peck in response to his original question.

Eren laid your body back onto the bed, trailing his hand down your side and into your underwear. You gasped at the coldness of his fingers as they dragged through your slit.

“So wet, baby,” Two of his fingers started rubbing circles around your clit, making you arch into him. “Miss me?”

“I thought we’d already established that, Jaeger… shit,” You squeezed your eyes shut when he pushed two fingers into you.

“Don’t get sassy with me. You know how that goes,” Eren smirked, watching you fall apart from just his fingers.

“Eren, don’t—oh fuck,” You moaned as soon as you felt his fingers go precisely where they needed to, his thumb on your clit. He knew you inside out, and you knew he was getting off on that thought.

Pure white pleasure set fire to your insides as you climaxed, though the embarrassment of cumming so hard on just his fingers never came. Because it always ended like this.

You looked down at your hips, where his hand was inside your underwear, and nearly blacked out from the sheer familiarity of your first time with him. “Take those off right now. We are not repeating our first time.”

Eren barked a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled them down your legs. “I thought it’d be cute,” He mumbled.

“Get up here,” You scolded, but the demand was lazy and playful, making Eren want you more (if possible).

He climbed up your body again, his pants and briefs on the floor, as his cock rested against your stomach when he kissed you. There was no time to be wasted, not when you’d waited months for this to feel him again. You always knew you would hold him again.

Eren sat up, and you wrapped your hand around his cock, lazily pumping him a few times. He was hot and heavy in your fist, and the feeling was delicious. “I haven’t even touched you yet,” You giggled.

His eyes found your core, where you were dripping onto his dark sheets and clenching nothing, and the sight made Eren moan and screw his eyes closed. “It’s just you… fuck Y/n.”

And then you took your hand off him, and Eren’s jaw fell open, looking down at you.

“C’mon,” He whined, and you shook your head, laying back on his bed.

“Fuck me, Eren.”

At your crude words, Eren bit his bottom lip to stop his smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

He hovered over you, his hair brushing your cheeks as he looked down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds a few times, causing you to jolt, before he sunk the tip into you.

The stretch was like coming home after a long time away, burning with slight pain before the pleasure took over. You welcomed him back into you. Circling your arms around his neck, you buried your hands in his dark locks, pulling the way you knew he loved.

“Jesus,” Eren cursed lowly when he bottomed out; the sensation of you around him was one he’d never forget. “You good?”

“Yeah, baby,” You squeezed his sides with your knees, dragging your nails softly along his scalp. He didn’t move for a beat, eyes trained on your nose's scrunch and relieved smile.

“Good girl,” He whispered, pecking your lips as he rocked in and out of you. Your hands pulled at his hair harder than before, and he groaned into your lips, your mouths touching but not kissing. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

And when he picked up his pace, you cried out into his mouth, the feeling and sound of his body on top of yours familiar and obscene. Above you, Eren made the pretty sounds you’d once begged to hear again. And soon, perhaps too soon, your stomach twisted into a coil again, his thrusts becoming too much when he continually hit that one spot like he always did. His voice became rough and desperate, panting your name before the volume increased.

Words tumbled out of his mouth sloppily, curses and jumbled questions, and your name. His usual deep groans turned to whimpers, and the sound made you reach your high faster.

“Close?’” Eren asked, running a hand down your body to find your clit, fingers slippery as they circled quick.

“Mmhm, yeah,” You mumbled, nodding sporadically and arching your body to mould to his, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

And then, the coil in your stomach snapped, and the white-hot flash that burned you from inside set you ablaze. Your body opened up for him, and Eren chased to meet you at the top, his movements becoming sloppy as he fucked you through your high. You’re too sensitive, warm, and wet, but Eren came inside, filling you fully.

He groaned deep into your ear, shuddering, and at that moment, you vowed to never let him go again.

—

After your activities last night, Eren gave you his favourite t-shirt and wrapped you up nice and tight in his sheets. You kissed him repeatedly, making promises under the blanket of night, the moon your witness. Never again would you leave, not when you knew him like you did, when you’d spent four years of your life moulding to each other. You cried, Eren cried, you laughed, he held you, you flicked his forehead, he tickled you. It was like you’d never said the words that caused the downward spiral of your life in the first place.

Reaching over to grab your phone off the bedside table, your notifications were filled with messages on messages from your group chat with Hitch and Annie, and… Reiner?

07:24 Hitch: Where are you?????? Answer pls!!!!

07:59 Annie: Y/n istg

08:50 You: Sorry I was asleep

08:50 Hitch: Thank god

08:51 Hitch: We’re gonna facetime rn

You groaned and turned your head toward a sleeping Eren. His hair was all over the place, his face innocent and soft, his skin golden and back bare. He was all you could ever want and more.

You slowly lifted the charcoal grey duvet to swing your legs out and sat up. Your entire body ached, and your legs shook as you stood up. Stifling a laugh of embarrassment, you tiptoed out of his room, careful of the one creaking floorboard he’d warned you about the night before.

It wasn’t until you got to the living room that your phone vibrated with an incoming group Facetime.

“Hi,” You said tiredly, trying to block as much background as possible; they knew your apartment better than you did.

“Good morning,” Hitch glared through the screen. Annie said nothing.

“What happened to your neck? Hm?” The brunette asked, her voice accusatory.

You moved toward the couch, sitting on the lush black leather, tucking a pillow behind your back. “Oh, I tripped and fell—”

“Yeah, into Eren’s bed,” Annie cut you off.

Hitch muffled a laugh, and you stared at her in disbelief.

Your mouth opened and closed with no sound. “No?” You visibly cringed when the usual statement came out as a question.

“Y/n!” Hitch yelled, a smile taking over her false scold. Annie rolled her eyes with a hint of a smirk. Then, all that could be heard was laughter.

“Well, at least you’re okay. I mean, it’s just Eren,” Hitch giggled. You smiled at her, grateful for your friends.

“Oh! Reiner texted me too,” You suddenly remembered seeing his name on your lock screen.

“Reiner?” The confusion in Hitch’s voice matched the thoughts in your mind. Why would Reiner text you privately?

You clicked around your phone until you opened Reiner’s message.

02:49 Reiner: i’m happy for u and all, but pls stfu

But you couldn't find it in yourself to care, even after the realisation that all your friends knew you'd slept together washed over you. Because all you cared about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

a/n: prologue

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lilymaybank · 10 months ago

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love.

(not my gif! creds to @romancedawg )

/this is also not proofread and it’s also my first time writing angst, please lmk any ideas for p2\

Part 2 here

warnings: mdni, heavy angst, bad ending

summary: best friend!jj you’ve always been afraid of jj loving kie, not you. your nightmare is real.

you wished it was a dream. you wished that you never saw jj maybank kissing kiara carrera. but at the party you saw them sneaking off. you always watched jj flirt with tourons and take them to the bathroom, but to see your crush kissing one of your best friends is the worst. after you saw them you ran, catching your breath and gathering your emotions. you saw sarah grabbing a drink and she looked at you. “hey y/n! are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost” you nodded as she handed you a drink as you chugged it trying to get rid of your thoughts, feelings, anything to get rid of the pain and the lump in your throat from trying not to cry. “woah, slow down girl” sarah said taking the cup from you “jj kissed kie.” you sighed “oh my god.” she blinked “you poor thing” she hugged you and tucked the hair in your face behind your ear “it’s fine.” you wandered off and found some vodka as you took the lid off and chugged almost half the bottle. “no feelings. no thoughts.” you kept repeating to yourself. you wandered off and started dancing to the music waiting for it to kick in. eventually it did, and jj found you stumbling all over and laughing “woah are you alright there y/n?”he said holding you steady “ohhhh heyyyy jjjjjjjjjj” you giggled “hey princess” he held your waist and turned you to him smiling. “fuck you” you flipped him off and tried to pull away from his grip but he held you harder “what did I do?” he said with an eyebrow raised looking at you “i have a question first” you said looking at him back. “what’s up?” he said “Are you and kie dating now?” you said folding your arms, he broke eye contact “fuck. you saw that?” He sighed “uh yea. wanna explain?” you asked “I can’t do this right now.” he walked away “jj come back!” you yelled “JJ!” he just kept walking.

the next morning you found yourself at Sarah’s house. unable to remember the night before, only that jj kissed Kiara.. you had the worst headache ever and were hungover, you quickly changed into some of Sarah’s clothes and walked downstairs where you saw her making toast. you said thank you to her and quickly walked out, practically running to the château. you saw john b on the front porch and opened the screen door stepping in “is jj here?” you asked “yeah he’s inside somewhere.” he replied. you went inside and looked in his room. you saw him putting his shirt on and then he looked at you. “shit.” he said under his breath “wanna talk about what’s going on with you and kie?” you questioned but you knew he didn’t wanna talk about it. “there isn’t anything happening with me and kie. why do you care so much? it’s not like you’re my fucking girlfriend or something.” those words made you wanna rip your heart out. “I care because I fucking love you jj. you’ve been the love of my life ever since we met.” you froze. you couldn’t believe you just said that. “…” he stood there. not saying a word. just looking at you. he sighed and opened his mouth to speak. “I love kie. I’m sorry.” he said walking past you out of the château. leaving you a sobbing mess. what could you do now? why would he do this?

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linos-luna · 9 months ago

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Hello Everyone!

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted and I just wanted to give an update, if you’re curious.

If not, just know that I’ll be posting regularly again next week 🩵

Anyways…

So as you may or may not know, I was in a car accident in January that left me with a concussion and injuries. I had to take time off work and have been dealing with non stop headaches since then. Luckily I work for a personal injury lawyer and we’re able to have the other person’s insurance pay for everything. My treatment and new car plus extra for pain and suffering.

I work on computers all day for work and looking at screens for long periods do hurt so that’s why I’ve been not posting so much(although I do have a lot in the drafts). I just wanna make sure I can properly proofread and post accordingly.

So my injuries plus emense amount of stress has made it difficult for me to do many things. I also had a brain injury as a baby so me getting a concussion is worrisome. I can’t stand and move around for too long at a time without needing to sit or lay down… I’m gonna be seeing specialists to make sure it didn’t mess something up 😅

Also. Update with my dog, Mocha.

I took her to the groomers 2 weeks ago and the groomer injured her. Basically the groomer choked her too hard and cut off some circulation?? She was having weird twitches. I complained to the company(who is a big pet store chain) and they didn’t take me seriously until I had my boss(a lawyer) threaten them so they paying for her vet bills now. She’s doing better now.

It’s been a rough 2024 so far. But things are finally getting back on track! I’ve also been picking up drawing again like I used to. As I mentioned, looking at screens hurts a bit so my digital art has been hard to keep up with.

I’ve posted some on my Art Account tho. Check it out. I hope you like it. I’ve always loved art and writing.

Also my birthday is coming on the 26th and I’m trying to come to terms that I’m gonna be 25 and in my mid twenties 😭

#vivian luna #vivi thoughts

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silly-thinkings · 2 years ago

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The cursed Stone! Part 6!!!

First I would like to apologize for taking such a long time to write. I had this written but I'm feeling ehh about it. Please let me know how you guys feel! Likes and reblogs are appreciated. The story is almost done btw. Maybe like 2-3 chapters

As you wandered down the mighty halls of the manor. You noticed a soft blue light come from the bottom of the room. You pout as it’s 3 in the morning. And the only person who could be up this late was Tim.

You knock at the door once, then twice.

“Come in”

You opened the door to see cans of Red Bull and water litter the floor. A surprisingly clean bed, and your teenager glued to the screen typing code after code.

“Tim. When was the last time you did anything other then your nightly work.”

Tim turned his head to face you. You immediately noticed the unhealthy bags and red eyes. Even his face seemed droopy “I completed next weeks assignments for school.”

You let out a sigh before tip toeing your way to him. Avoiding the mess that was his room. You finally stand by his side and look at the case he’s working on.

“This the riddler?”

He too looks at the screen “yup”

“Bruce is out right now working on the case?”

“Yea”

“So if he’s working on it. Then why aren’t you resting honey.”

“I have to help him. He can’t do this alone.”

Tim could barely keep his head up. You closed the laptop which made him perk up “w-wait! I’m not done.”

“You are to spend this weekend resting. Two days off.”

“W-what. But Y/N”

“No buts.” You place a hand on his forhead, then his cheek “besides you’re heating up.”

Tim was about to respond but he let out a sigh instead. She was totally right. He was tired, but he didn’t wanna fail Bruce.

“Don’t worry baby. You’re not going to fail him.”

Tim looked to you in shock.

“I can tell that’s what you’re thinking. You seem to forget that Bruce has been in the game for a long time now. I’m sure he’s got this particular case covered.”

Tim stood. Out of nowhere he gave you a tight hug. Stunned you hugged him back. Gently rubbing circles along his back as he rested his head on your shoulder “thanks mom.”

Mom. This is the first time he’s called you mom. You felt butterflies fill your stomach. You opened your mouth to say something, but a light snore cut you off. “Good thing the bed is next to you.” *** *** ***Jason awoke with the most grueling of headaches. “Shit. shit shit shit. TIM! Timothy Drake show yourself right now!” Jason rushed out of the room and into the halls. He banged on the doors like a mad man “Tim! Open the door” A groggy Tim appeared, clearly annoyed “Why are you here?Did you come to tell me you’re a better Robin?” Jason shook his head. “How are you feeling? Is your head ok? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Tim furrowed his brows before closing the door on Jason.

“Dude come on! You need to help out with mom. You have too please. We lost Dick, I really hope we didn’t loose you too, my memories are leaving me. Please Tim you gotta remember Ma. you have to remember Y/N!”

Jason pressed his head on the door. Tonight he’ll be the one to suffer whatever this universe will through at him. Then Damian will be alone. Or worse, they’ll never get their mom back.

Tim opened the door causing Jason to stumble in “who are you talking about.”

Jason looked into Tim’s eyes. “Ok this sounds crazy. But you have to believe me. Damian used a powerful rock and accidentally changed our lives. We have a mom Tim, and she’s in trouble. We all are.” There was a long silence that filled the air. Tim crossed his arms unamused “So, if what you’re saying is true. Whats the next move? Does Bruce know about this?”

Jason jumped in his feet “yea, they’ve already went on a date but Damian-“

“Todd. this is ridiculous, its just us now. We have to move up the plans.” Damian stood by the door.

Jason noticed the bags under his eyes. Damian was one to care for himself greatly. To make sure he was in peak condition so he can perform better. But now, the kid actually looks his age. Jason let out a sigh before he looked back at Tim “You patrolling tonight?” “Yea, someone's gotta cover for Damian since he’s clearly out of it. I also need to turn in a 12-page police report to Gorden” “Great. Bruce is investigating this club. Mom works there.”

“You know I’m just entertaining this hypothetical right? I don’t actually think this is-”

“thanks for the help Timbo! See you soon” With that, Jason gently placed his hands on Damians shoulders and walked away. Damian was annoyed. Atleast that what he felt, they're running out of time. Maybe Anxiouse is the right word. He’s lost the second half of the stone to Jamie and has no idea where they live to retrieve the item.

“Jason… are you next? I do not feel any different” Damian asked as they both walked into the kitchen. Jason shrugged his shoulders as he made his way over to the fridge. “Yea… Its like a worm deleting things in my brain. But dont worry. I’ve got moms address from Bruce. We go there, say sorry, and hope the stone is with the kid.” ~~~~ “No. its not here either boss” You woke up to the sound of rattling and crashing. Men in black ransacked your home. You attempt to reach under your bed but find you hands bound behind your back. It finally dawned on you that you were tied.

“Boss! She’s awake.”

As the two men continued to rummage though your stuff a third man entered your room “I caught you missy~ Maxwell will be gettin rid of you.”

You remembered this man. It was the guy who threatened your son about a day ago.You attempt to sit up but to no avail. You wanted to shout and scream but the damn duck tape that was glued to your lips didn’t help.

“You know. For someone who’s Maxwells right hand, you do loose a lot of files.”

He watched amused as your brows furrow in confusion. That’s when he pulls out the VIP list and a flash drive “does the boss know you’ve got this here.”

You were annoyed, but your annoyance turned into terror when you finally realized the lack of you son’s presences. You attempt to move around again which caused the men in the room to laugh.

“Seems like you’ve got something to say sweetheart. Go on.” He walks to you and rips the tape from your lips. the sudden pain disorients you just a tad before glaring at your captor “what is your name?”

He smiled “Eddy.”

“Well Eddy. I suggest you tell me where my son before I rip you a new one.”

Eddy laughs before leaning in. His face inches from yours “you are full of spice. No wonder the boss likes you.”

Eddy does a circular hand motion causing one of his men to Leave the room. When he returned your eyes widened in horror at the state of your son. Jamie had duck tape over his mouth aswell. His hands and ankles bound by zipties. His blond hair messy along his with his broken glasses. Finally a deep cut on his cheek with a black eye sent you over the eged.

In a blind rage you slam your head onto his nose. Eddy stumbled back shocked that you’d pull a move like that given the circumstances. “No. No no no Y/N. That’s not what we’re going to do. You’ll be punished for that.” As a response he walked over the Jamie and grabbed the back of his neck, hoisting him up before throwing him towards you. Jamie tumbled like a rag doll to the foot of the bed. He groaned in pain as he shimmied closer to you. “Fuck with me. And the kid gets it. understood?”

“I’ll kill you. I’m going TO KILL YOU!” You shouted. You were pretty sure you had scars on your wrists with how much you pulled and tugged at your restraints. How long were you out? What did they do to Jamie? What did he tell them?”

“No. No you won’t. Here’s the deal Y/N. Personally i don’t think you deserve the right hand position. Your nothing more than a caged bird that’s going to be sold off tomorrow anyway.” Eddy growled that last bit under his breath before making his way behind you “I’m going to cut these zip ties. I really hope you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t want the kid dying.”

Deep breaths. That’s all you can do in this situation. You look at the clock on your nightstand and suck your teeth. It’s 12 in the afternoon. All this is happening in broad daylight and you were more furious with yourself then the men in your home. These memories, these visions of a time that never was with Bruce and his family greatly distracted you from your current situation. Your current family that needs you.

You felt your hands go free, then your legs. You slightly massaged your wrist as eddy walks back to the front. “What the hell do you want?” You say as you slowly leave the bed and onto the floor where Jamie laid. You cradled him as a very poor attempt to comfort him given the situation. Removing his bindings as slowly as you could not to hurt him anymore.

“I want you gone. But Im not that stupid to wish in the impossible. I know you’re up to something Y/N. The boss has been very stressed lately with the bat on his tail. I find the VIP list and a flash drive of even more information in your home. You must be up to something.”

You can hear Eddy speak, but most of your focus fell on Jamie. His breathing was ragged, eyes closed as he slightly shook in your arms. He himself slowly removed the tape before wrapping his arms around your waist. He looked like a toddler with how he was seated on your lap.

“you’re such an idiot.” You shake your head. Jamie was probably the one who brought back the information. Maybe to find more stuff for Batman.

“Excuse me?” Eddy just about had it with you.

You looked at him in the eye “I took it home with me cause Batman was snooping around! Check the cameras. Had I not taken this he would have turned all your sorry asses in.”

Eddy sucked his teeth “Bullshit and you know it. I know you’re involved! So heres the deal, You come with us now and ill leave him be. Or I beat this kid till you come to your senses.” “You’ve got some fucking nerve…”

Keep your mouth shut and the kid goes free. Easy trade.” Eddy stood tall as he looked down at the two. “I expect you there in 3 hours. Leave the boy here.”

“Get out!. NOW!”

Eddy nodded his head before leaving with the men he brought in. as soon as they were alone Jamie spoke.

“Ma… mom I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I wasn’t strong enough.” He whispered. Jamie felt guilty, incredibly guilty for Jeopardizing the mission.

You frantically shook your head “no, no baby no it’s not your fault.” You brought him close as you rocked back and forth in the floor “I should of been the one to protect you. I should of noticed I had a target on my back, but I was too distracted.”

Jamie shook his head. He wanted to say more but he was tired. They men raided his home two hours ago. Jamie tried to be cool, like his mom, like Batman. But in the end he got beaten black and blue. Used as a hostage against his own mother. Jamie Will remember that name. Eddy Will regret the day he crossed paths with him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~Later that night~

Jamie held onto a pack of frozen peas in his eye. He looked out the window, the cool night air dancing along his face. He hasn’t cleaned the house let alone leave his room. He remembered your last words to him before you were taken away. “Stay hidden. Don’t open the door for anyone. And keep your phone on you at all times” They were rules a regular teen like him can follow, but tonight he had other plans. If today was any indication then he can most definitely change the future. He will live through Tomorrow without the help of any vigilantes. Jamie heard his phone chime snapping him out of his thoughts. It was you calling, Jamie took a deep breath before answering. “Hey hun. Calling to check in on you. You ok? Jamie gripped the phone slightly “Im fine. I should be asking you that question mom. Have you eaten? Are you alone? Did they hurt you?” There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Im doing alright. Glad to hear your voice. Gotta go, love ya” Jamie looked down at the phone as the call ended. He can't wait on Batman, Nightwing, the Robins to save them. If He wants to save his mother he’ll have to do it himself. Jamie left the comforts of his room with the watch he’s been working on. The blond double-tapped the screen allowing the nanotech to completely coat his body “Sweet.” He then went deep into his closet and pulled out a heavy military-style backpack and left the apartment with one thing in mind. He will be the one to save them from this mess. ~~~ Jamie gently placed the book bag down and pulled out some binoculars. He watched as the same men who raided his home begin loading up boxes of things onto a yacht. Determined to not let his fate come to pass he pulled out the pieces of his mother’s sniper. When it was fully built he lay on the floor, one eye on the scope, and waited.

***

Redhood hid behind boxes ready to strike the guards that were loading up an unconscious person to the boat. Even though Batman told him not to interfere with his mission. Redhood needed to get information for Damian.

“Gotta grab one more thing. Then we can-“

The man couldn’t finish his sentence. His lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud. The other man became frantic. He tried to run but he too followed his partner in death. One more goon is shot on the side but fell in the ocean. Redhood slowly rose from his hiding spot and walked towards the corps. He analyzed the bullet wound and looked up from the direction he assumed the shot was taken from.

His head throbbed in pain “shit. I can’t take this anymore.”

Jason looked up at a nearby construction site and noticed a small glint. He tapped his earpiece.

“Hey T. I’m going to check something out.”

Tim Looked at the monitor’s to see Bruce zooming pass the city. He couldn’t work on the club case tonight due to the riddler. And Damian still didn’t feel comfortable going out as Robin.

“where are you going? You’re suppose to be scouting.” Tim hacked into security cameras to see the area Redhood was in.

“Well, a sloppy sniper just killed three guys. And I don’t want to be the fourth. Not in the mood to die again.”

“Redhood wai-“

Jason turned off his communications and headed towards the building.

Jamie’s hands shook. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he gently placed the sniper down. He looked at his trembling hands.

“Why am I like this. It’s me or them.”

He hugged himself as he knelt on the floor. “I will not die. They asked for it. They shouldn’t have beaten me up. ”

“Huh. So it was your first kill.”

Jamie’s head whipped around “R-read hood”

The teen pulled out a hand gun. “Don’t get in my damn way. You don’t understand the situation.”

“Oh yea? Try me.”

In a flash, Redhood closed the space between them and kicked the gun out from his hand. He then pinned the boy to the ground. His arm pinned behind his back. Jason pinned his head to the floor“why would you do that. You could have jeopardized the whole plan ”

“Idiot. If we kill them now. Then the job would be done sooner!”

Jaime felt tears sting his eyes. “you don’t know what’s it’s like. Every night it’s the same dream” hot tears seeped from his eyes “I die tomorrow. I don’t want to leave my mother alone! In the hands of these monsters. I don’t want to die!”

Jason frowned behind the mask. He finally let go of the boy who just layed there defeated

“I don’t care how selfish it sounds. Even though I know That Damian brat had something to do me coming back. But I… I don’t want to leave her. Not like that.”

Redhood sat down next to Jamie “I know what you’re going through kid”

“Bullshit.”

Jason chuckled “wanna know how I kicked the bucket?”

Jamie weakly sat up and hugged his knees listening intently.

“Joker killed me. My biological mother betrayed me. Then I got beat up with a crowbar.”

“how did you come back?”

“the lazarus pit… my brothers uncle felt bad so he just… brought me back I guess. That was hell…”

Redhood felt his head throb. He let out a sigh “fuck it.”

Jamie’s eyes widened as he watched the vigilante remove his mask.

“I knew it.” He then smiled “I fucking knew it! HA. Wait till I tell mom.”

“Don’t think there will be time for that kid. I’m… no we’re running out of time.” Jason looked up to the sky as he told the boy everything. How Damian accidentally wishing for Y/N to not be a Wayne. To explaining why they’ve been to weird around her.

“Listen. You got every right and reason to not fuck around with Damian. But I’ve never seen the kid so out of it. He made a mistake, not the first time.” Jason looked over to Jamie who laid down on the ground. His body stretched as he too turned his head to face Jason “Hell kid. You’re adopted. Have you ever just lost your cool and reminded mom that you aren’t blood related.”

Jamie looked back to the sky. In fact, he can recall a time wherein he’d been a brat towards Y/N. He placed a hand on his face and let out a sigh “guess I’ll have to die huh.”

“Nah.” Jason sucked in his breath and a sharp pain ebbed his mind. He tried his best to stand only to stumble slightly before getting his footing “if I can come back, so can you. Head back home, I’ll clean up the mess here as best as I can. And stay low, don’t speak when spoken too. You died in that building right? so don’t go in until Bruce and Damian are done. Understood?”

Jamie watched as Jason put his mask back on before grappling away with the weapon. The teen stood and looked back into the city. A newfound determination filled his heart. He was ready to live.

#batmom #batman angst #batmom reader #jason todd x batmom #batman x reader

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dutifullyshamelessearthquake · 10 months ago

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In line with @myfriendscallmeasimp (I hope you’re feeling better btws!!) I also have to live a Sickfic and i don’t know if I can be as brave as them 😭

migraines. Fucking migraines. Thankfully it’s not so bad yet that I can’t look at my screen but the way the right side of my head is being squeezed into oblivion..idk man. I have things I want to do today!! I want to draw! I’ve got work!! I have to clean!! But all I van think about is sleeping until this goes away and praying it doesn’t start making me nauseous cuz then I simply have to stop existing.

but it’s fine cuz it’s just a Sickfic 🥲 tighnari for example is the king of this situation. But because I’m a cyno suffering Stan…I’m imagining him having a migraine like for the first time. And he’s so confused. “It’s just a headache I’ll take a painkiller nbd” cut too him slowly growing more frustrated as he tries to go about his day. At its peak he’s convinced he’s dying and it’s not until Tighnari steps in (maybe cyno is lying in the dark in the bathroom lol) and explains what’s goin on and can help him find some relief.

Cyno would be forever extra extra considerate the next time Tighnari has one. I mean he already is ofc. He’d do anytbing for him. but now even more so

Oh no!! Migraines are awful, I'm so sorry! 😭 It's the worst when you have things you want to do, but your body has other plans. I really hope you feel better soon!!

Wait wait WAIT, I actually love that trope!! A character getting a migraine for the first time and not really understanding what's going on, until another character gently tells them "you're okay. you're having a migraine."

ARGH! SO GOOD! Oh my gosh, I've thought about writing this with Kazugorou (since Kazuha's used to migraines but Gorou haven't experienced one before) but this is also brilliant for Cynonari. Ahhhh I wanna write this now!! So badly!!

I've also really wanted to write Cyno seeing Tighnari have a migraine for the first time. Just not really knowing what to do, accidentally being too loud or too rough when he's trying to comfort him, and being genuinely worried because "what do you mean you get these often??"

Just. Migraines. Horrible in reality. Brilliant in fanfiction.

I'm going to be thinking about Cyno getting a migraine for the rest of the day.

#earthquake author's note #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin emeto #emeto #sickfic headcanons #sickfic prompts

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cartcop · 2 years ago

Note

For clarification, I was a Buddie shipper for the longest time, but because of recent episodes I’ve kinda abandoned ship.

I think that we (tumblr, reddit, Twitter) see the show differently than the general audience. I think there’s a lot of people who dig into things that don’t actually mean anything and call it in the name of Buddie. I shipped them because narratively it made the most sense, but I 100% think the shirt colors/water/beer theories aren’t complete and utter bullshit. Like, I enjoy reading them, but they aren’t anything. These are writers who 1: can’t remember their own details 2: are very open about any sort of metaphor, like the couch thing. The couch metaphor for a relationship was said on screen, it was real. Everything else is grasping. I’m an actor, I’ve gone through costume fittings before, I’ve seen wardrobe trailers, I’ve had a costumer. In a show that’s this expensive and that’s running this long, they will wear the same stuff a few times. Blue and green look best on screen. They can’t use product placement of real items. There’s a lot of reasons for stuff in the show that doesn’t have to do with Buddie and it makes me, and many others, not take Buddie seriously when people say things like “the lightning strike is the baking soda and it’s standing in the way of the beer which is their relationship” Nope. That’s just set dressing and props doing their job. “They made 3 s’mores because one represents Buck!” No… it represents Shannon, that was in the episode.

I also don’t think Buck and Eddie are a slowburn. Or if they are, and this is something they’ve planned out, they’ve done a terrible job. The point of a slowburn is for the audience to see, to feel, to root for the characters to get together. It has to be really obvious that it’s happening, albeit slowly. That it grows and they are so in love, and there’s feelings, and it’s a big will they won’t they. Buck and Eddie had a foundation for this, but the general audience can still call them brothers or platonic friends. Meaning that it’s not clearly romantic and therefore not a slowburn. It could be, if they wanna have Eddie really hate Natalia and openly reveal feelings for Buck even just to himself and let that drive them into season 7, then yes we would have an actual slowburn. It’s not impossible and it’s not too far gone, but if they keep down the path they’re on where it’s tumblr users grasping, it will be.

I also just think they’re writing the characters in circles and until they break out of that, there’s no hope for anything. I mean anything, romantically or not. Buck is currently a headache, at least Eddie seems to be having some growth, but his is also tied to a relationship and people telling him to date and him thinking he has to… ugh

so I actually mostly agree with you, but I think this might be a case of missing the forest for the trees.

I'm definitely with you that a lot of the fandom theories are...not realistic. I'm actually intimately familiar with how wardrobe and costume design operates on shows like 9-1-1 through my job, and I have never in my life heard of wardrobe operating on a set the way fans theorize they do. Not to say that things like color never mean anything, they can absolutely be used very intentionally (and are, by good designers), but they have very different reasons for making choices than what is popularly discussed here. (baby rant on costume metas->on a show like 9-1-1, the most important factor—beyond making your actors look good—is making their wardrobe choices believably human. It's about psychology and fleshing out character; it's rarely about storytelling. What would this real life person have in their closet? How would they choose to present themself in this setting? I'd also say there are some things the fandom DOES pick up on that I read as intentional, but on a show as big as 911, its a little silly to assume every outfit has a deeper meaning)

I also agree with your general point that people read a little too deep into metaphors and symbolism that aren't there on a textual level. You're right that the creators make it VERY obvious when those things are in play—because 911 wasn't a show that was made to be analyzed. Again, not saying that there's nothing to pick up on; I think it's pretty obvious Eddie's on the journey to find his soulmate, and I think it's pretty obvious Natalia isn't Buck's endgame, because they made it clear in the text. But that doesn't mean that every detail is put in to give hints on what's coming. It's a goofy procedural, it's not high art. I don't know how many people really believe those theories vs. how many people just have fun with them (like me), but I get what you're saying about it seeming really silly to anyone outside the bubble.

But re: missing the forest for the trees, I do think it's a little sad to get bogged down by the theories so much that it takes you out of digesting the actual media. You said that you "shipped them because narratively it made the most sense," and I guess I wonder if you don't think it makes narrative sense anymore, or if the popular theories seem so off the wall that you've written off any subtext that's actually coming from the show. And either is fine, but I remain firmly on the "it makes the most narrative sense" side of the aisle, although for more textual reasons than the goofy theories entertain (and I follow a lot of excellent blogs that do the same)

I think that you're really spot on with the slowburn aspect—s2-6a buddie was a developing close friendship, and a beautifully done one in my opinion. But it didn't read to me as romantic while watching casually, it read to me as a really significant platonic partnership. And I so agree that it's a really phenomenal foundation for an actual slowburn. After watching the episode last night, I think that might be the direction they're headed, and I don't think I'd feel that way if not for the couch of it all. But I've said it a few times on here, I don't see any way that this is the final act of their slowburn, because I don't feel there's been any burn yet. The fact that I'm starting to think there might be a reveal to the GA, a real will they/won't they, is what has me so firmly on the buddie canon train right now.

And yeah, Buck going in circles is how I'd put it, too. But as I said it to another anon, I get the feeling that this is the last circle for Buck before his series-long journey for happiness and self worth ends. I actually love the aspect of solving one problem with his perspective only to unearth another, deeper problem, but I can only watch that large man be sad in the exact same way so many times. As for Eddie's dating adventures, I'm feeling like they're making it clear that even though Pepa was the one to push him into it, he is actually interested in finding a partner for the right reasons.

Anyways, seems like we mostly agree and I'm either more optimistic or more delusional than you—only time will tell! Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me

drop your thoughts/theories/speculation on why you don't think buddie will go canon in my ask box because I'm curious (I'll be nice I promise)

I'm tagging all these posts with #anti-buddie and #buddie-neg if you want to filter

#ive tried to keep my mouth shut about my side eyes at the theories but i invited negativity into my asks #so i kinda corned myself into revealing my True Feelings on it #theyre fun! i enjoy the fun of them! but please do not take them seriously im begging #i take even the ones i think might be intentional with a grain of salt #bc its kind of hilarious how often things that look like intentional symbolism are actually just happy accidents #or unhappy accidents if you project too much meaning onto them and they turn out not to be true #anti buddie #buddie neg #ask a bean

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hansensgirl · 3 years ago

Text

push it to the limit.

summary. | As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him.

warnings. | Non/Dubcon, watersports, obsessive behaviour, coercion, bribery, dark themes, drinking (champagne), hate fucking, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation, breeding kink, choking, allusions to anal, reader is really rude (so is Niki), *sexism/misogyny/paying for sex (see a/n), and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.4k

pairings. | Dark!Niki Lauda x Reader, James Hunt x Reader (it’s one-sided).

author’s note. | please enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. *he talks about paying you for sex as a way to degrade you, it’s brief and in german! it does not reflect anything about me or my blog. we are pro-sex work here! it’s just fiction.

“Look! There he is!” a small voice tells you, pointing somewhere with a great distance. You’re not sure how he manages to spot his favourite racer from so far. Among the sea of heads, your younger brother sits on your shoulders. You can feel him touching you down to your bones, and you try to ignore the pain just for him. “You sure? You said that five times before, y’know,” you denote, and you hear the six-year-old groan. “Yes, I’m sure! Look, he’s drinking that nasty stuff like always,” he adds, and you realize he’s talking about James’s signature champagne.

“It’s not nasty,” you mumble under your breath, remembering the way the pleasant liquid felt and tasted against your tongue. Sticky gold is what you’d describe it as, and you recall how it stained your skin. Shaky hands are bound to tremor even more under pressure, and your friend is an absolute clutz. It’s no wonder she made such a mess, as it is one of her best traits. But a particular pair of hands that seemed to have Midas’s touch cleaned you up, and you still to this day wish you were awake to thank them. You have many regrets, but that’s just a small one.

“Can we go closer to the fence? I want to try and talk to him,” your brother politely requests, and you let out a heavy sigh. Your mouth is pressed in a line, and you begin to shift your feet. You’ve got boots made of suede, a brown colour that always seems to go best with your all-black outfits. There’s a matching jacket on you as well, and it has fur on the cuffs and collar.

“What’s the marvel of watching it in person rather than watching it on television? Out here, we struggle so much, and you can barely even watch them properly. On the television, well, you see it all, and you can be as comfortable as you want,” you wonder out loud, and the child holds onto you tightly. He squeezes your head tightly, and the ribbon in your hair begins to fall in your face. It’s white silk, with a lovely hem to it. You save it for these races your sibling always wants to go to. Your other coloured ones are left for daily excursions, and sometimes a good party, too.

“Excuse me!” you loudly call out, and other women cast you nasty glares. You’ve seen those same looks one too many times, and you don’t pay any mind to them. If they truly care about their spots, they’d stand up and fight for them. But they’re just like babies with a piece of candy in their tiny fists. Maybe a jellybean, or perhaps even a pack of those oh so enjoyable Sour Patch Kids. “Why do you like only him?” you ask, raising both your eyebrows as you get closer to the fence. “I like James and Niki!” he exclaims loudly, and you loop your fingers between the holes of the fence.

“Niki? As in Niki Lauda? That arrogant, Austrian asshole?” you question in shock, not minding your foul language at all. “Yes! The guy that Dad hates. He’s cool, and he’s fast,” he explains, rolling his eyes. “Honestly? There’s nothing cool about him. He’s just… fast. James is the cool one,” you argue, and you can hear him groaning. “You like James Hunt because he looked at you that one time,” he snaps back in annoyance, and you sigh dreamily in remembrance. “Exactly! Now I need to look for Niki, I wanna say hi to him!” your brother exclaims, and your eyes scan the entrance area for Niki Lauda.

“Don’t just say hi to him; ask him for an autograph! We can sell it to one of his fans afterwards. They’re always dying for anything of his,” you propose, and your brother simply ignores the swindling ways that you’ve inherited from your grandfather since you were a kid. It’s the reason why you tend to find purses with deep pockets and smooth zippers that don’t pinch on the inner fabric. You reach into your bag, and you grab a marker that you’ve always got with you.

The crowd gets louder and louder, almost as if you’ve got headphones on your head and you want to turn down the volume, but you keep hitting the wrong button. A woman shrieks in your left ear, and a man whoops in the other. More bodies press against you, and with the marker in between two of your digits, you hope that you don’t return home with billions of bruises. On the big screen, recaps from the previous races are being played. It’s win after win, all on behalf of Niki Lauda and his incredible luck that doesn’t seem to have any end.

You’re finally able to make out what people are screaming; the curly-haired man’s name. “Niki! I love you!” they all shout, and you wonder if any of them like James. It seems like you haven’t found your people, and maybe just for today, you’re the odd one out. “Seems like you’re not the only one that has Niki amongst their favourites,” you grumble, and your brother lets out a giggle. A few moments later, he sits up far more proper on your shoulders. The hand with the marker in it grabs onto one of his legs, and you make sure he doesn’t fall down and ends up being the true loser of this race.

“Niki! I’m your biggest fan!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, using his full voice and then some. You look over to the entrance, and you spot the brooding Austrian wrapped in red walking out with a deep frown on his face. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but your brother doesn’t care about your deep annoyance towards his idol. Niki shoots a look over to where you’re both standing, and your brother waves his arms from side to side, trying to get the racer’s attention. Even if he doesn’t, you have a feeling that Niki will be more displeased than anything.

It only makes sense, as he always acts that way with his fans though they’re the only people who appreciate him.

His nose is upturned, and he tries to pinpoint your brother and his powerful screams. High-pitched yet so loud, it’s no wonder why his tantrums are the root for almost all household headaches. “He’s looking over here,” you tell him, and your brother nods. “Yeah, because of me! He’s going to come, and I’m going to meet him!” he squeals, somehow connecting none existent dots to fuel a form of hope that dwindles inside him. You can be mean, but you’re not cruel. So you won’t be a realist, and you’ll let the youth on your shoulders believe what he wants to think.

“And when you meet him, ask him to sign something,” you advise, not letting go of your chance to make a few hundred dollars. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s pondering whether or not he should do it. “Niki! I love you!” the woman next to you screams as if she’s using every bit of her energy to get him to notice her. Your head already starts to ache just a bit, and you wish you brought some form of a pain killer. Niki saunters over to the fence, and for some reason, you don’t feel proper behind the fence.

It’s the way he carries himself with the highest of heads, a sort of confidence dragging with his every step. He knows he can do anything right now, and everybody except you would love him for it. He could make an entire turn and not greet his fans, and they’ll laugh it off. You’ve witnessed his haughtiness, and there’s no doubt inside you that you’ll see it again. “Niki! Good luck on the race!” a person says, and the rest of the crowd laughs at them.

“Dude, he doesn’t need your luck,” someone next to them says before elbowing the poor fan’s ribs. You can hear them wince in pain before they start to scream at the racer once again. Niki raises his hands up to his chest, almost as if he’s surrendering to something. That bratty smirk of his is replaced by a cheerful smile, and while everyone adores it, you see right through the façade. “Hello, everyone!” he greets, and you already want to roll your eyes until they fall back into your skull.

Niki stands right in front of you, and you try to look somewhere other than his face. Your view darts wildly until you finally settle on looking at the exceptionally boring asphalt underneath your feet. The screaming quiets down, and you wonder if everything is okay. “Uhm, Mr. Niki Lauda? I love you! I’m such a big fan! I watch all of your races, and I try to go to them all! Can I have an autograph?” your brother gleefully expresses, and you snap your head up at his words.

Much to your dismay, you lock gazes with the man you hate most in this entire stadium. His eyes are rather dull, yet they’ve got a sort of darkness in them that makes you feel just a tad bit uneasy. Both begrudgingly and excitedly, you hand the marker to your brother, who, in turn, gives it to his idol. Niki takes it gratefully, and he raises his least dominant hand. The other fans try to reach for it, for him. But he ignores them, and he gives a high-five to your brother.

You can’t hear the sound of their palms meeting because the displeasure of the crowd drowns it all out. “What do you want me to write it on?” Niki questions, taking the cap off of the marker. “Uhm, my shirt?” he offers, stretching the red fabric towards the elder. You observe as the racer awkwardly signs his name on your brother’s clothing, and you know that your Mother is going to be more than angry. Your Father, on the other hand, will be filled with pride and excitement.

“Thank you so much!” the child squeals, and Niki simply waves his hand as if it was no big deal to him. But you know that deep down inside, he was probably a bit annoyed. “Do you want an autograph, Miss?” Niki asks, and you take note of how his demeanour has changed. His features are softer, and his eyes seem to be lit up. “Oh, uh, no, thank you. I’m waiting for James. I love him a lot,” you tell him, pushing your shoulders back in confidence. The people around you let out gasps, and they follow their sounds up with whispers that aren’t so hushed.

Niki’s face drops, and you give him your fakest smile. He stares at you, almost as if he wants to lash out and scream. Maybe even call you a name or two. “That’s alright,” he assures after a while, and you have the urge to say something snarky. He hands the marker back to your brother, who is too busy being in awe of his favourite racer to listen to you being on your worst behaviour. Niki walks off, but this time, his stride lacks his boldness. “He’s so cool!” your brother squeals, staring at the Sharpie. You sigh, knowing that you two will constantly butt heads over Niki.

“Well, I beg to disagree.”

“Niki! Is everything okay?” one of the mechanics asks, and the star nods his head mindlessly. Instead of pressing him for some sort of answer, he leaves Niki alone to mull all by himself. There is not one person who dares to talk to him before the race unless it has to do with the car or the competition itself. It’s out of pure fear because nobody likes to face the Austrian’s wrath. From screaming way too loudly to piercing, uncomfortable stares, he never knows how to properly communicate with others.

He gazes at you from just a few mere metres away. His eyes are like ice, and he hopes you can feel the coldness from where you are. He really fucking hopes you do. You’ve got that sultry look to you, and it’s not cast towards him. No, it isn’t at all, and it irks him all the way to his bones. You ogle James fucking Hunt. Of all the other inferior racers there, you choose to admire James, and Niki hates you both for that. At every single race, he’s seen you show up to, you never look at him.

You don’t acknowledge him at all. It doesn't just hurt his ego; it also breaks his heart. Your preference and love for the Englishman injure those butterflies inside Niki’s stomach, and yet they still continue to flutter. The funniest, most ironic part of everything is that the races you attend always end with Niki being the winner. Never James. But you still idolize him over the Austrian, and he’s tired of it.

“Make sure it goes fast, okay? Fast, but nothing should catch on fire or malfunction,” Niki tells his technicians, and they halt what they’re doing. “But, Sir-” one of them starts, and Niki closes his fist for them. “No,” he simply states before crossing his arms once again. Niki looks back over to you, and you’ve now got a smile on your face. He loves the sight, but he knows his adoration will turn sour in a few seconds once he follows your line of gaze. So he chooses not to, and he decides to use you as his motivation.

The racers all go to their cars, and they pull their helmets on. Some are dressed in black, some in white, and only two in red. James and Niki. Niki is surrounded by his team, and James has twice the number of people next to him. Along with mechanics are girls in short skirts with jackets similar to yours. Deep down, you wish you could switch places with one of them, but maybe it isn’t as good as it seems to be. Perhaps your spot behind the fence with your younger sibling is what’s meant for you.

Your neck is more than exhausted. Your shoulders have a unique pain to them, one that not even doctors can begin to describe. Your bones are in desperate need of a crack, and your muscles crave a lengthy stretch that’ll leave you shaking. Yet, you continue to stand there with no complaints ready to fly off your tongue. The whooping behind you is so loud, but you’ve gotten used to it. “C’mon, Niki! You can do it!” your brother cries out, clapping his hands in excitement.

Niki flashes a thumbs up, and he looks at you one last time. As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him. Perhaps this time, you’ll realize he’s the best racer there is. He takes a deep breath, and he reassures himself that he’ll win as always.

“I have a feeling Niki is going to win this one,” the lady next to you says, and her friends nod their heads in utter agreement. You want to ask why she thinks that, but you’ve already left a bad taste in the crowd’s mouth. “Do you think Niki will win?” you ask your brother, looking up at him as best as you can. “I think so, but maybe James will surprise us!” he predicts, and you nod your head. “I hope James wins,” you whisper under your breath. Your bottom lip falls victim to your teeth, and you gnaw on it out of stress.

You keep your sights on James, and occasionally, you glance at Niki. Perhaps it’s simply just morbid curiosity that’s eating at you because there’s no way you’d just casually look at a man you despise with all your heart. As all the racers go to their designated spots in their cars, excitement fills your stomach. But it’s mixed with fear, as anything can go wrong at these tracks, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. You get lost in your thoughts, thinking about all possibilities.

Who will win? Who will get hurt? Who will get angry? Who will become sad? You ask yourself all these questions that don’t truly matter much to your life, and yet you still try to find an answer inside of you.

Suddenly, the sound of engines revving and then taking off fills your ears. Screams follow them up, and you realize that the race has started. You wait until every single car leaves your view before looking at the scoreboard. You can’t bear to watch them risk their lives while you stand not so comfortably yet safe behind a fence. “Oh my God! James is in the first place!” you squeal like a kid in a candy store, and your brother claps.

Some of the people around you cheer for James, and others for Niki. But you ignore them, and you simply focus on what the orangish-yellow neon lights say. Some names switch spots rapidly, perhaps too quickly for you to keep up with. But you stay trained on the upper two; I. HUN, II. LAU. The former stays on top for most of the race, and the latter switches with him every now and then. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” you nervously mumble, hoping that the Englishman stays on top.

“Seems like your favourite is going to win,” the known lady cleverly smirks, and you give her the side-eye. “Yes, because he’s good at what he does,” you confidently agree, hoping that you won’t have to eat your words in the next few minutes. She chuckles before shaking her head. “No wonder you don’t like Niki Lauda,” she expresses, shaking her head practically in some form of awe. “What are you talking about?” you annoyingly press, already growing tired of whatever conversation she’s trying to make.

“You’re both egotistical and full of yourselves. You do it because that’s who you are, and Niki does it for his own reasons, like pure enjoyment. It’s so obvious for you to dislike him because he’s a reflection of you, and you hate that,” she states, proud of herself for whatever reasons. “That’s dumb, and so are you. He does it because that’s who he is. I do it because I don’t like some people—such as yourself—and because I have plenty of reasons to be prideful. Not egotistical,” you snap, and she raises her hands as if she’s surrendering.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Your mood has turned absolutely irritable, and the bitterness has claimed you entirely. You realize that you haven’t checked the places since before speaking to the lady, and you get excited. Flicking your head up, you expect to have your preferred person’s name at the very top, but instead, you see the name of the one and only Niki Lauda. I. LAU, II. HUN. “No, no, no!” you panic, watching as James stays in second place. None of the names change places at all, and you find yourself to be absolutely crushed. “Yes, yes, yes!” the crowd cheers and your face has fallen in disappointment.

Niki’s name gets announced, and everyone is absolutely elated. Everyone apart from you. Your brother celebrates the win from his high spot, and everybody jumps for joy. You stay silent, and you try your hardest to not swallow your pride. Each driver gets out of their cars slowly, and they congratulate the Austrian with smiles on their faces. You stare at him callously before you notice that James is still grinning. Despite not winning entirely, he never actually lost. So there’s no reason for you to be so dull and gloomy.

He walks off with his posse of men and women, and you realize maybe it’s time for you to head home as well. “So, your favourite won,” you say to your brother, and he giggles. “Yep! And yours lost!” he jokes, and you let out a forced giggle. “Yeah, yeah,” you brush off, making your way through the energetic body of people you strongly dislike.

Niki is engulfed in overly suffocating hugs. Some hands shake him, and some even slap him on the back, not so lightly. He doesn’t know which pairs belong to which bodies, and yet he goes with them all anyway. “You did great, Niki!” one voice praises. “Yeah, great job, Niki!” another adds. He thanks everybody in one sentence, and he pulls away once they start to mingle amongst themselves. The fantastic win of his isn’t what’s on his mind. It’s the thing that’s been etched and burned into his brain for him to think about, even though it should be appreciated now.

No. You’re what’s on Niki’s mind, and he has no intention of letting you leave.

He looks over at the swarm of heads that may have drowned you, and he can’t find you there. Not one trace of you is left behind, and his blood boils. Do you truly hate him to the point where you can’t even stay back for a few more seconds? Niki swears in Austrian under his breath, and he frustratingly walks over to the crowd. Fingers that aren’t yours reach out for him, and he ignores them all. “Have any of you seen that woman with the little boy on her shoulders?” he angrily questions, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

His heart is still clamouring wildly in his chest, practically beating against him to be let out. “Uhm, she just left… She went that way! But I could easily replace her if you want…” a woman flirts, and Niki completely ignores her words after he gets what he wants. He leaves abruptly, and they are still yelling after him. “So eine verdammte Schlampe. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dir eine Lektion zu erteilen, du hast darum gebettelt, seit ich dich gesehen habe,” he grumbles, walking through the crowded entrance.

Niki emerges with perseverance and even more anger than before. He searches through the sea of racing enthusiasts, and he spots you being bent over. It’s a wildly lewd position for you to be in, and Niki finds himself feeling flushed and displeased at the way you let others leer at you. He should be the only one to see you that way, nobody else. The Austrian wants to storm his way to you, to grab you and drag you somewhere more private so that he can put you in your place, but he knows the current setting isn’t right.

“Uhm, Mr. Lauda? Would you like a drink in honour of your win? It’ll be on us!” a shy waitress offers, appearing out of nowhere. He jumps in fear, but he quickly calms down. “Well…” he ponders, even though he’s not a fan of drinking after a race. In a trice, the lightbulb in his brain goes off. It shines brightly, and a clever idea starts to nag him. “Do you, uh, mind doing me a favour? I’ll even pay you extra,” he quickly prompts, and the waitress smirks. “Sure!” she agrees, carefully balancing the glasses on her tray.

“I need you to take all these glasses—maybe add some more champagne and make sure they’re really full—to that person over there,” he instructs, pointing to where you are. He watches as you wave to your family, who drives off without you. “The one with the brown jacket?” she double checks, and he nods in assurance. “Yeah, that one. Take them to her, and tell her they’re from someone who adores her and her love for champagne quite a bit,” Niki directs while trying to hold in a villain-like laugh.

“Ok! Then I just leave?” she asks, tilting her head innocently. “Yes. And don’t mention my name or anything about me at all,” he adds quickly before placing a hundred-dollar bill on the tray. The waitress slips it into her pocket before walking to where you’re standing idly. Niki watches the innocent worker make her way towards you until he realizes he should hide away before she makes a mistake.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Hi, I have something for you,” a waitress tells you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- What? I never ordered anything, I think you have the wrong person,” you tell her, turning your back and facing elsewhere. “No! I have the right person. They said they’re someone who adores you and your love for champagne!” she gleefully clarifies, and only one person comes to mind. James. You let out an excited, eager gasp. One that can’t be rivalled by any of Niki’s fans from his win.

She hands you the two full glasses, and you can just tell that the golden liquid is of high quality. You get drunk quickly, perhaps a little too easily. But that’s never stopped you from enjoying yourself at all. “Thank you so much! Oh, and I’m sorry for being rude at first,” you softly whisper to her, and she simply waves you away. “No worries,” she reassures, and she walks off before you can finish your first glass.

Tilting your head back, you bring the first flute to your mouth and you down everything it has to offer in just a few gulps. The drink slides down your throat with such ease. It’s brut, and it has a sort of bitter yet sweet taste to it. Sighing, you smack your lips and take whatever is left of the first glass gratefully. You then switch the glasses around with shaky yet skillful hands. “Thank you, James, for being such a lovely guy,” you murmur to yourself, dragging out the last letters of each word.

The alcohol quickly settles inside you, and it starts to distort you as always. Blurry eyes and a hazy mind, you’ve turned into a drunken mess in a matter of a few seconds. You slowly sip on your second and last glass before your temptations grow tired of your sluggishness. You down the entire thing until there’s a small drop at the bottom that just won’t budge. You let out a tiny sound of amazement, and you find yourself wanting to have some more. You lick your lips, trying to search for a slight hint of the sort of melon flavour until it goes away.

“Uhm? Does anyone know where that waitress went?” you ask loudly, and those who hear you shake their heads ‘no.’ “Damn,” you frustratingly mutter, lightly stomping your foot against the concrete. You roll your head backwards, in both a stretch and a habit. Your mind feels heavy, but your bones and muscles are even more burdensome. You bring your skull back to its normal position, and you decide to go look for her. Stumbling clumsily, you walk back into the dreaded arena where everyone is still celebrating Niki Lauda’s victory.

Niki watches you amongst a crowd of fans who are trying to form some sort of discussion with him. They hound him with all kinds of questions, some about the race itself and some about the esteemed racer and his personal life. Like a hunter stalking his prey, his eyes stay trained on you until you disappear behind the red door that leads to rooms that only named people are allowed to go to. “So, what are you going to do now, Mr. Lauda? How are you going to celebrate?” one of them asks, with a sort of sultry tone to their voice that he fails to notice.

“I have plans with a friend of mine for tonight,” he briefly states before pushing through them and following you into the stadium. “Can I join?” another asks, and he simply ignores them as they call after Niki with even more curiosity. It’s not hard to spot someone in bright red overalls suddenly walking into somewhere he shouldn’t be, but it’s easy to pay no mind to him because he’s a champion and most people who see him aren’t.

“Where, where, where are you, kleine Maus?” he hauntingly calls out, and his voice echoes back. Niki can hear the sound of your shoes clicking against the ground, and he decides to follow it. He tries his hardest to calm his heart down, but it’s hard to both hold your breath and make sure you’re not nearing cardiac arrest. The racer quickens the paces of his feet, practically jogging towards you as you decide to turn around and forget about the champagne.

Your jacket slips off your shoulders as you whip your body around, and suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall. The brick is painted over with a sort of cream colour. You begin to panic as strong hands keep you from fighting your attacker. “Du bellst wohl nicht nur, kleine Maus,” he notes out loud, and you don’t understand a word of what he’s saying. The voice is familiar, though, except for the fact it’s a few octaves deeper than you last heard.

“Niki?” you question, halting your flailing fists and restless legs. “Yes, kleine Maus?” the man questions and your jaw drops in shock. “What the fuck?! Are you insane? Get off of me!” you scream loudly, and his hopes of getting you still begin to die like a flower in the wintertime. Niki grabs ahold of your wrists in his dominant hand, and he swiftly turns you around and stomps on your ankles. “Help!” you cry out, but his other hand presses your face against the wall.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” he orders in your ear, pushing your white ribbon out of your face. You listen to him, but you disobey his commands at the same time. Writhing around, you try to escape the claws that squeeze you tightly, and you fail miserably. “Cute. Now stop fighting me, or else I’ll hurt you so badly you wouldn’t be able to go to anyone for help,” he threatens, and you gulp thickly in fear. Your saliva tastes of alcohol still, and you regret ever coming to the race.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard. All you need to do is listen to me,” Niki instructs, talking down to you like you’re some child who doesn’t know any better. “Why?” you choke out through gritted teeth. Your cheekbones rub against the brick, and the pain is gruesome. “Because I need to put you in your place. Do you seriously think you can just mouth off to me like that? To disrespect me like that? To prefer that pathetic racer over me?” he asks, and you let out a whimper. Each of his words sinks into you like needles filled with anesthesia.

They numb your mind until you realize what’s really happening, but by then, it’s too late.

“Well, obviously, I prefer James over you! Look at you, you’re rude, and you’re a horrible, shitty person. Now get off of me!” you lash out, even though your body doesn’t move. Niki simply laughs like a maniac, and you find yourself wanting to take back your words. “Maybe I’m so rude because I like you. Like how little boys tease little girls when they have crushes. You do know what a crush is, right? Just making sure since you’re so cold-hearted. Bet you don’t know anything other than hatred,” he spits, and you’re pretty offended.

“I know what you’re talking about! I’ve had feelings for people, okay?” you bite back, and Niki becomes curious. “Really? Let me guess. James Hunt? Some old boyfriend of yours? A man at a party who cleaned you up because you don’t know how to take care of yourself?” the Austrian questions, and you don’t realize who he’s talking about until you look at his hands. They’re the same as those gracious ones, except they’re more rough and lack gentleness. “That was you?” you ask, and you’ve lost all fight in your body at the realization.

“Well, of course, kleine Maus. Someone had to watch your back, and that someone is me! Du bist nicht so klug, wie du dich selbst darstellst, ganz ehrlich. But that’s okay, it’ll be okay. It’ll be just alright now that I’m here to put you in your place,” he reassures you, and you don’t even have the energy to ask him what he means. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve learnt my lesson now, can you let me go? I won’t tell anyone, Sir, I promise!” you plea and your words start to blur into one another.

“I don’t think you’re sorry, kleine Maus. I need to do what’s necessary because I’m fucking tired of you and your bullshit,” Niki snaps, and you whimper from the harsh tone of his words. His change in behaviour gives you whiplash, and you realize that there’s no way out of whatever he has planned for you. “So careless, so mean, so ignorant… So clumsy. I guess you aren’t as independent or as strong as you claim to be,” he whispers, and he causes tears to sting your almost empty eyes. They hurt, and they carry such maliciousness to them that you can’t help but be terrified of Niki.

A hand comes up to the waist of your jeans. They flare out at the bottom, and well, they look pretty damn good on you. But maybe a little too good because they make Niki think wild thoughts. He expertly takes the buttons out of their holes, and he unzips your rusted zipper. “P- Please, Niki,” you beg one last time, but Niki ignores you. He pulls down your pants against your protests, and he lets them get tangled with your tired feet. Your bare ass is exposed to the cool air of the arena, and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

“Such a lovely ass, kleine Maus. Maybe I should fuck it instead of doing what I had planned. Would you like that?” Niki politely asks, and your eyes nearly fall out of your skull. “N- No, thank you, Niki,” you shakily reject, and he nods. “You see, unlike you, I’m not so mean. So I’ll spare you, but only this once,” he cheerfully tells you, acting as if you’re supposed to start jumping up and down at his words. The closest thing to gratitude he’ll ever get from you is silence.

Niki still has a tight grip on your hands, and with your legs now immobilized from the mess by your feet, you can’t do much to save yourself. He wraps his arm around your waist, and he grabs at the crotch of your panties with no care at all. The cotton bunches up, and his fingers graze lightly against your folds. You try to ignore his touch, but he does the opposite and forces you to focus on it. He’s frozen, and you’re waiting for his next malevolent move. You can hear his heavy breathing, and he angles his digits upwards so he can touch you even more.

You press a fist against the wall, and you try to brace yourself as best as you can. Unexpectedly, a fierce pain strikes you in your hips, and it hurts more than you can describe. His hand has left you, and you can feel the air breeze against your pussy. Your panties are on the floor, ripped into a shred of fabric that no longer has any good use other than reminding you of how you could’ve avoided this entire situation. “I’ll get you better ones, don’t worry,” he reassures you in a humorous manner, and you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance.

Instead of having your hips jut out for easy access, he pushes your torso against the wall until there’s a pressure inside your stomach. Instead of pain, it’s a sort of tingling sensation that makes your eyes bulge out in shock. “Uhm...” you hesitate, and his ears perk up. “What is it?” he frustratingly asks you, and his harsh tone snivelling. “N- Nevermind,” you mumble, and you just try to take deep breaths. “Are you ever going to shut up?” Niki questions as his other hand skillfully unzips his red overalls.

He’s wearing a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt for the hot weather and occasional coolness. You keep quiet, not sure if you should answer him or not. Niki grumbles in another language that you don’t understand, and you realize that no matter what you do, you’ll always make him angry. Even your begging doesn’t bring you any fruits of labour. Only disappointment.

His shorts join the pile of clothing on the ground, many colours clashing that leave his eyes to be sore. Sunset pink panties, pale blue jeans, vibrant red overalls, and black shorts. It’s a fashionista’s worst nightmare. His hard cock is left in his boxers, and he’s just too impatient to fully undress. He throbs out of want and need, with a swollen tip that leaks with pre-cum. “I know this isn’t so… What’s the word you people use? ...Ah, romantic! I know this isn’t so romantic, but it’s not supposed to be. I’m the only one who’s supposed to enjoy this, not you. So I don’t care if you want to fake a smile or anything like that, all you need to do is not say anything,” he explains, and you nod your head.

“O- Okay, Niki,” you assure, and he lets out a groan that is followed by his tongue clicking against his pearly teeth. “Dumb whore,” he spits, and his hand wraps around your throat. You’re inebriated beyond belief, and you don’t realize he can crush your windpipe in a split second until he whispers in your ear. “Can’t do one thing right, can you?” he retorts. The grip he has on your wrists suddenly loosens up, but you’re too sluggish to fight him. And even if you try, you’ll end up a pathetic loser with even less honour than before.

The fat tip of his large cock presses against your mildly slick pussy. “You’re already wet for me, kleine Maus! Oh, such a whore. You say you don’t want this, yet your little cunt is telling me otherwise. Maybe you should use it to think instead of your empty brain. You’d end up in better places if you did so,” he advises, and you try to tune him out. But he’s like an alarm that just won’t stop until you do something, and yet, you’re helpless. “Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich zu meiner Hure zu machen. Wie viel verlangen Sie? Einen Dollar? So oder so, du wirst von mir gefickt werden,” Niki snickers, and you have a feeling his words lack kindness.

But who the hell are you to worry about kindness?

Niki pushes his hips forward as his cock slowly sheathes itself inside of your tight pussy. The way you hug him makes him moan immediately, and he wonders if he’s the first you’ve ever had. “Jesus Fucking Christ, you’re so right, kleine Maus,” he groans, slowly bottoming out inside of you. You’re biting down on your wobbly bottom lip, trying your hardest to keep quiet and not let out any cries. The pain is searing. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever felt, and it ingrains itself into your mind until it’s all but an illusion. You’re practically about to be torn in half from his cock, and you’re at an impasse.

The racer curses as his balls rest against your ass, heavy and swollen. He’s deep inside you, filling you up until you’re bursting and you don’t know what to focus on; the pressure in your stomach that just seems to grow with each passing second, or the pain that leisurely turns into pleasure you’ll be addicted to? Everything is so much all at once. “Feel that, kleine Maus? Do you feel how deep inside you I am? Good, because you’ll have to get used to it,” he tells you, and you writhe around.

“So desperate already…” he whispers, watching as you can’t stand still at all. Niki’s hand leaves the base of his cock, as he thrusts his hips forward to elicit a reaction from you. He holds onto you tightly, and your body jerks from his movement. Your swollen stomach is pushed further against the wall, much to your dismay. You let out a gasp, and you try to close your legs as much as Niki will let you. He chuckles before he drags his cock backwards. His tip is the only thing inside you, and he suddenly begins to pump into you roughly. “Oh my God,” you whimper quietly, and your words are drowned out by the sound of skin against skin.

He thrusts up into you at a quick pace, one that your fingers or past lovers could never rival. It seems as though he’s fast when it comes to almost anything. “Die beste Muschi, die ich je hatte,” Niki whispers. Your pussy slickens up as he fucks you, coating him with your sticky wetness. The sight is something to behold, and his cock slips in and out of you with each thrust. “Make some pretty noises, kleine Maus. I want to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock,” he demands, and a loud moan moves past your lips without warning. It’s lewd and pornographic, yet it’s not as debauched as the sounds your wet pussy makes.

“Yeah, that’s more like it, hure,” Niki praises, and you mewl once his cock begins to touch that sweet spot of yours. It makes you go dizzy and hazy, and it also makes your legs weak. You involuntarily stop clenching your thighs together. Each thrust brings you against the wall, and you feel like you’re about to explode. Your pussy clenches down on Niki’s cock tightly, and his motions stutter. “Are you going to come already, my little slut?” he questions, slowing down his thrusts just to see you get frustrated. But the reaction you have is quite the opposite of what he wants, and he’s confused.

You let out a shaky breath that is filled with relief. You try to cross your legs together and push your ass backwards so that you’re far from the wall, even if it means that you’re closer to Niki. Your efforts don’t do much, and you want to wail in defeat. Niki observes you carefully before he shoves you back against the wall. You cry out before whispering a simple ‘please’ to him. He doesn’t realize what you’re talking about until he watches you place one of your hands on your stomach. You splay your fingers out delicately, and Niki chuckles.

The hold he has on your hips goes away, and he reaches for your hand. “Shh, it’s okay,” he reassures, and you furrow your eyebrows in both confusion and surprise. Niki pulls his cock out of you until you’re an empty, gaping mess. Suddenly, he presses down on your bladder until warmth trickles down your legs, soaking the fabric at your feet. A few tears leak from your eyes, and Niki watches as you burn up with embarrassment and shame. The pain and pressure in your abdomen go away as you finally alleviate yourself.

“Dreckig, dreckig, kleine Maus,” he degrades, and you don’t have it in you to be offended. The streams of liquid eventually come to an end, and you’re so ashamed. You press your face against the wall and wait for Niki’s next word. But he doesn’t say anything at all. Zip, zilch, nada. Instead, he pulls his hand away from your stomach and uses it to silently guide his cock back to your drooling, aching hole. “Couldn’t help yourself, I know. It’s okay, it’s not entirely your fault, liebling,” Niki tells you, even though he’s more patronizing than comforting.

“Es ist nicht deine Schuld, dass du nicht weißt, wie man etwas richtig macht. Keine Manieren, keine Höflichkeiten... Ich verstehe, dass du so bist, aber ich bin hier, um dich zu ändern. Ich bin hier, um dir beizubringen, dass du unter mir stehst und dass du nichts anderes tun solltest, als meine Hure zu sein und mich zu verehren,” he continues, and you’ve decided to give up entirely. You forehead rests on the white brick, and Niki begins to fuck you roughly once again.

He pounds against your sweet spot relentlessly, not one error in his rhythmic thrusts. “Poor little thing acts all tough until it comes down to it… And now look at you, you’re a complete mess with my cock stuffed inside this perfect pussy,” Niki grunts, leaning his body forward. His chest is right up against your back, and his chin rests on your sweaty shoulder. Your white ribbon is a tangled mess, the two ends of it twisting together and falling in your face. The silk material is no longer cooling, and the styling purpose of it has lost its touch.

The plunges of his cock are more deep than quick, and each shove of his hips sends you spiralling in pleasure. “F- Fuck,” you moan, seeing stars in your vision as your legs twitch from overwhelming gratification. “Yeah, you like that? You like the way my cock makes your pussy feel, kleine Maus?” he questions, and he further pushes his head down until his mentum digs into your skin. You wail loudly out of pain before nodding your head desperately. Niki squeezes the sides of your neck even more, but he also pushes down on your windpipe until you’re gasping for air.

You wheeze resoundingly, and the sound of you suffering for breath sends even more blood down to Niki’s pulsating cock. “Say it, tell me how much you love my cock and how much of a slut you are for me,” he demands, and you grasp at whatever’s left in your vocabulary. “I- I love your cock, Niki. I’m such a slut for you and your cock. You make me feel so good. I love your cock so much,” you pathetically mewl, and you can feel a form of tightening building up in you. Your lower abdomen burns up with searing flames, ones that trail all the way down to where you’re both connected.

You get wetter and wetter, more loud and desirous as your climax builds up. It’s like a staggering tower that reaches up to the sky and past the clouds; it has an end, but it keeps growing. “Are you going to come, kleine Maus? Are you going to come around my fat cock? I know you are. C’mon, do it,” Niki urges, and you moan his name loudly. “Do it, come on my cock right fucking now, or else I’ll make this worse for you,” he demands, and your back arches violently. You let out a gasp as your jaw goes slack. Red fills your vision, and you’re clamping down on his cock.

You moan his name loudly, and your juices coat his already sticky cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mewl, digging your nails into your skin as you struggle to keep quiet like he ordered you to do. Your pussy spasms wildly, and your clit throbs, desperate for a few fingers to rub it. Your legs shake just a little bit, and you find yourself meeting Niki at his every thrust, desperate to keep going. Your ass moves backwards, and his hips move forwards, and the Austrian fucks you through your orgasm. Your nerves have sparks flying from them, and every part of you is sensitive.

“You’re so pretty when you come, kleine Maus. You look just like a desperate whore,” Niki grunts, and he can feel himself inching closer to his own climax. It’s like the light at the end of a tunnel or the chequered flag that usually waits for him at the race track before he’s announced to be the winner. “I’m gonna come inside you, kleine Maus, even if you don’t want me to. I’m going to fill you up with my seed and make you all nice and round. That way, you’ll know who you belong to, and you won’t be whoring around for the James Hunt you love so much,” he whispers in your ear, and you rapidly shake your head.

No, no, no, no.

“Yes, yes, yes, kleine Maus, you’re going to take my seed because I said so. Now stop fighting me,” he moans in your ear, and his thrusts grow sloppy and lazy. Niki shallowly fucks into you, and his balls begin to tighten up. His chest rises and falls, and he can feel his high beginning to climb up to the sky. Up, up, up, and away. Niki moans out the little pet name he’s applied to you, and he entirely shoves his cock inside you until he can’t move anymore. Growling, he comes inside you without a care in the world.

The raging, red tip of his fat cock is so deep. White ropes of his seed shoot into your womb, filling you up until you’re an upset, messy cumdump. “This is all you’re good for, kleine Maus,” Niki whispers in your ear, reminding you of your so-called place that he believes you belong in. His cum drips down your inner walls and leaks past his cock, and your fluids mix with each other. Niki’s cock twitches inside of you, but he remains as hard as a rock.

“Can’t wait to see you with my baby, kleine Maus. And I can’t wait to see James’s face when he sees you with me. Er wird so schockiert sein, dass sein Gesichtsausdruck unbezahlbar sein wird,” Niki laughs wickedly, and you can’t imagine you’ll ever meet anyone as cruel or as twisted as he is. “Can you get off of me now? I want to go home, and I want to stay as far away from you as I can,” you snap in both annoyance and exhaustion. “Nu-uh,” he tuts in a disciplinary manner. “You’re not going anywhere, kleine Maus,” Niki tells you. He tilts his head up until his lips touch the skin of your ear.

“I still have to celebrate my win with you, and I’ll make sure to push you to the limit, kleine Maus.”

#niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x you #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda imagines #niki lauda au #niki lauda fic #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda smut #niki lauda x reader smut #daniel bruhl fanfiction #niki lauda dark fic #dark!niki lauda smut #dark!niki lauda x reader #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl imagine #daniel bruhl niki lauda #daniel bruhl x reader

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mishervellous · 3 years ago

Note

could you write something light about them getting high together? 😊

anon!! this ask has been here for the longest time, I’m sorry for being so late with it! this is just some husbands dumbassery but I hope you enjoy it 💙

💨💨💨💨

When Ian opens his eyes, everything is upside down.

Wait—why is everything upside down?

Without thinking twice about it he goes to stand up, only to immediately eat absolute shit, and bang his forehead against the edge of the coffee table. “Fuck—!” He instinctively brings his hand up to his nose, checking for blood.

“Watch it.” Mickey says from somewhere in his vicinity—for some reason Ian is having trouble placing things in time, and space at the moment—, causing Ian to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up.” He finally manages to straighten up and—holy mother of God the room is spinning. Ian almost loses his balance as he finally realizes what position he just woke up in: upside down on the couch, legs draping on the back of it.

What the fuck happened last night?

Mickey grabs his arm before Ian can go crashing his already probably concussed head once more, helping him straighten up. When the room finally decides to chill the hell out, he looks over to where his husband is leisurely sitting down, feet propped up on the coffee table, and phone in hand.

“Why are we here?”

“At nine am on a sunday, Aristoteles? Chill out.”

“No, I mean—why are we on the couch? Why was I sleeping like that?” Ian lowers his head into his hands. He has the sneaking suspicion that he would’ve had a hammering headache regardless of the earlier blow to his head.

“You tell me.”

Mickey is definitely not helping. Realistically, nothing could be helping right now with how he’s feeling; with the way he wants nothing more than to go back to sleep for another twelve hours. Make that twenty.

But the fact that he can’t remember a thing from last night is bothering him way more than his tiredness is.

“I think I passed out yesterday.” Ian looks at his husband, and Mickey just raises his brows in a you think? way, without ever looking away from the screen. “What happened?” Still, Mickey doesn’t look at him. Ian frowns. Perks his ears up until he can hear sounds coming from Mickey’s phone. “What are you watching?”

Mickey glances at him for a brief second, eyes going back to the screen the next. “Nothing.”

Since Ian is terribly hungover but not fucking stupid, he inches closer towards him. “Bullshit.” Mickey’s clearly hiding something from him, with the way he scoots away the more Ian gets closer. “Lemme see.”

“I don’t think you wanna.” And now Mickey is suppressing a smirk.

Ian knows in his heart of hearts that whatever secret thing it is that Mickey’s watching has to do with him. Ian would also love to credit this understanding to a sixth sense of some sort, but it is being given away by his own voice coming through Mickey’s speakers.

What the fuck happened last night?!

“Fine, whatever.” Ian mutters, standing up with a loud groan. There goes the room, spinning like there’s no tomorrow again. He does his walk of shame towards the downstairs bathroom, massaging his lower back in the process.

When he opens the door, he almost has a heart attack right there on the spot.

“What the fuck?!” Two green eyes stare back at his own. He turns around towards the couch, a shocked expression on his face. “Why is there a cat in our bathroom?!”

Mickey’s answer is so casual, like he’s just conversing about the weather. “You stole it from that hag in 5C.”

“I stole—Mickey, what the hell?!” Ian almost screams, his own raised voice disturbing his own brain, and apparently the cat’s as well. He’ll bring it back to Mrs. Mourey as soon as possible, but he needs to know what the fuck happened last night first.

He beelines for the couch, sitting down on the coffee table, and tapping on Mickey’s knee. “You need to tell me what happened.”

Mickey looks at him. His eyes go back on the screen, and then back on him once again. He locks his phone, leaning back on the couch. “You really don’t remember?”

Ian groans, exasperated. “No.”

“Not even—,”

“No, Mickey. Not even anything.”

Mickey gives him a once-over. Smirks. “We smoked that new strand you wanted to try.”

Oh. To be fair, the guy that had sold it to him did warn him that it was some pretty strong shit. Ian didn’t think it would be Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-strong though.

“And what? I just passed out?”

“Nah. You put on quite the show before that.”

Ian eyes the phone on Mickey’s lap. He’s starting to connect the dots, and Mickey knows it. “Did you take videos of me?”

“Aight, you making it sound weird.” Mickey rolls his eyes when Ian just keeps on glaring at him. “Look, you were saying the craziest shit. I had to.”

“You had to?” Ian is incredulous. Also a tad embarrassed. “Mickey, you let me steal a cat!”

“Ay, I was fucking high too, asshole! You went MIA for an hour and just came back with it. Motherfucker scared the shit out of me too.” He flips him off before going for his phone. Motherfucker decides to jump on the couch next to him then, curling up like nothing is wrong in the world. “I’ll delete them, so stop whining.”

Apparently, Ian’s on an epic quest to piece together the last twelve hours. “Lemme see them first.”

His husband just shrugs, patting the spot next to him (and Motherfucker). Ian complies, and joins him on the couch, eyes immediately going to the phone.

“You cool?”

“Just—play it already.”

“Bossy bitch.”

Mickey hits play.

💨 💨 💨 💨

The video opens with a shot of Ian intently staring at one of the walls of their bedroom. A couple of seconds of silence pass before Mickey pokes Ian’s thigh with his foot, making him move. His movements are as slow as a snail’s.

“You alright there?”

Ian nods. Like, a lot. For at least thirty seconds.

More silence.

“Mickey.”

Mickey hums.

“If we had sex in the forest, and no one was there to hear us, would that orgasm even happened?”

Silence. A chuckle from behind the camera. “Man, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The one in the forest.” Ian looks dead serious, closing his eyes next. “Would that nut exist if no one was there to hear it?”

“Pretty sure my ass would be willing to take you to court and testify about it.”

“So, no. Non-existing nut.”

“Yes it fucking would.”

“No, but like—“ Ian snickers. “Hear me out, sshh. No one’s there to hear it.”

“Yeah, but I’m there to feel it.”

“It would be my word against yours.” Ian looks straight into the camera. “My dick’s word against your ass’ word. Ghost nut.”

A moment of silence.

They both start giggling.

“Man, you’re fucking gone.”

💨💨💨💨

When the video stops, there’s a lingering silence in the living room. He looks over at Mickey, and his husband looks just about ready to burst out laughing, but he’s doing a mighty job of containing himself.

“Ghost nut, huh?”

“Ghost nut.” Ian bites his lower lip. Okay, now he sees why Mickey would wanna keep dumb shit like that for posterity. “Apparently.”

Mickey scrolls forward, another video waiting for them.

“This one’s my favorite.”

Ian gulps.

💨💨💨💨

“And after all that we’ve been through, I will make it up to you!” Ian is standing on the coffee table, Bluetooth speaker in hand, and passion on his face. “I promise to!” He then dramatically throws it on the couch, and Mickey catches it from behind the camera with a huffed Jesus Christ.

Ian throws himself head first into the air guitar solo of a lifetime.

“Alright, Jimi Hendrix.”

“This song, I love this song! God, I love this song.” Ian sways left to right, in time with the music. “Can you believe that the city of Chicago wrote it?”

Mickey snorts. Lowers the volume. “It’s just the name of the band, dumbass.”

“No, no. They’re from Chicago. The mayor of Chicago.”

“Who’s the mayor of Chicago?”

Ian points at the camera, triumphantly. “Jon Bon Jovi!”

Mickey laughs from behind the camera. “Yeah? And who’s the president of the United States, Freddie Mercury?”

“No, dummy. He’s dead.” Ian shakes his head. “It’s, uh—what’s his face?”

“Rhymes with Donald.”

“Ronald.” Ian places his hands on his hips. “Ronald McDonald.”

“Alright, now you’re making me hungry.”

“I pledge allegiance to the Flurry.”

“McFlurry.”

“No one calls him that. That’s his dad, he’s just Flurry—Holy shit, I love this song! Turn it up!”

💨💨💨💨

“Yeah.” Ian murmurs, scrubbing his face. “Yeah, you need to delete these.”

Mickey snorts, scrolling forward. “Sure.”

“Wait, there’s more?!”

“You’ll like this one.”

Ian doubts that.

💨💨💨💨

“You know, Mick, I’ve been thinking about something.”

The angle is weirder in this one. Ian is laying on Mickey’s lap, tracing patterns in the air with his finger.

“‘Bout what?”

“I love you.”

Mickey hums. His hand is in the frame now, caressing Ian’s hair.

“I think we should get married.”

“We already are, dumbass.”

“No we aren’t.” Ian looks up at him. His expression brightens. Mickey must’ve shown him his ring off camera. “Wait, we are? For real?”

“Are you fucking serious? Do I need to take you to the ER?”

“No, I think I remember. Wait, I meant—we should get married again. Will you marry me, Mickey?”

Mickey jokingly plugs his nose. “Lemme circle back to you on that one.”

Ian laughs. His voice is nasally. “Mikhailo Alejandro Milkovich—,”

“—shut the fuck up with that—,”

“—will you be my husband?”

A beat of silence. “Dumbass.”

💨💨💨💨

“And then you disappeared and returned with the cat.” Mickey locks his phone, throwing it on the other side of the couch, and startling Motherfucker in the process.

Okay, he has to admit: he did like that last one.

A little more sober, and with the mystery of last night finally solved, he looks over at Mickey.

Mickey looks back. Frowns. “What?”

“You didn’t answer.”

Somehow, Mickey manages to frown harder. “Answer what?”

Ian nods towards the now forgotten phone. “Will you marry me?”

When it clicks, Mickey just rolls his eyes. He gets a soft smile on his face, bumping his shoulder into Ian’s. “Go return the fucking cat and I’ll think about it.”

Ian chuckles. Fair enough.

#shameless #gallavich #my writing #dumb high hoes alert #High Himbo Ian Supremacy #thanks for the ask 🌺#ask #ficlet

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort.

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through.

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

Text

DISTRACTED | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: “5 times reader (girlfriend) is almost distracted by a shirtless Charlie and one time she actually is.” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 1.6k WARNING(s): some charlie thirst, what’s new ;) SUMMARY: 4 times Y/N is almost distracted by her shirtless boyfriend and 1 time she actually is.

You pride yourself over the fact that you never get distracted, no matter what. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can’t help it.

Especially when your boyfriend looks like that.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes feel as if they are burning, and the ever-persistent headache of yours seems to be particularly intense today.

Yet, pushing all that tiredness away, you keep typing, typing, typing. The deadline for your essay that carries twenty per cent of your grade of your final year of college is tomorrow, and you’ve still got three hundred words to write.

Three hundred words does not seem like a lot on any other day, but after three cups of coffee and seven hours of staring at your laptop screen, it feels like death. The fact that you seem to be in a rut right now doesn’t help, either.

You scrounge around your brain, trying to pull ideas from each fold, but it’s useless. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s because of your boyfriend, Charlie, who has currently resorted to painting your toenails after not getting any sort of attention from you for the past few hours.

Ever since lockdown started, you and your boyfriend have been living together in your shared apartment in Toronto. You two have been planning to move in together for a while, but his work and your college always seemed to be obstacles. But this lockdown gave you both the perfect opportunity – plus, it was time, too. You two have been dating for more than four years – although, you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, but the intensity of it was realized only in the moment when he kissed you after an amazing prom together – you guys went together because you were best friends and loved being around each other more than anything. But the fact that there could be something more, something hidden in years of friendship seemed unlikely to the both of you before that day.

“Done.” He says, proudly. Your eyes leave your screen to look at the beautiful emerald colour on your toenails. You smile at him, and say, “That’s gorgeous, Char. Where’d you find it?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “It was in the bottom of your bag.”

You nod. “Right. I bought it the day before my last offline exam ended. I forgot.”

He smiles. “Now, will you pay me some attention?”

You purse your lips and pretend to be thinking. “Hmm… tempting, but no. I still have to get this done.”

He groans, dramatically. “You have been ignoring me for past hundred hours!”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “You’re so dramatic. It’s only been half a day. Now, go away. I need to finish this.”

He groans, again, and you wonder if he’s finally given up.

Instead, he rolls off the bed, and stands taller, leaning against the doorframe. “Y/N?”

You hum in question, as he makes a show out of taking off his T-shirt.

You bite your lip and remember how long it has been since you’ve run your hands on his chest. But you know that he’s doing this on purpose, to get a fraction of your attention. He knows and is proud of the fact that he has a hold over you, and the fact that even after four years, he still gives you butterflies over the slightest of smiles.

So, instead of giving in, you crawl under your covers with your laptop and decide to work there, as you suddenly gain inspiration, and thank yourself for not being distracted by your boyfriend’s absolutely beautiful body.

“Oh, come on!”

The second time hit happens, it’s a Tuesday morning, and you’re giving an exam. Your laptop is in front of you, the face of your teacher and classmates filling your screen, as the sound of your pen scratching against your answer sheet fills the room.

You bite the end of your pen, pondering over a question when you suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice. You look up, and notice him, shirtless, and talking on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, I mean, we could do that…” He says, and your eyes trail across his back, as he stares out the window on the wall opposite to you.

“No, Mom, we’re not gonna drive to Canada. I’m not that crazy!” He exclaims, and you arch your neck to get a better view of him, and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Sure, I can ask Y/N…” He says, and you quickly avert your eyes back to your paper, just in time to hear your teacher call out your name.

“Y/N? What are you looking at?” She asks, and you adjust your headphones, clearing your throat.

“I thought someone was at the door. Sorry, Ms. Harrington.” You’re painfully aware of the warmth spreading through your cheeks, and as she nods, you start writing again.

You hear Charlie whisper a ‘sorry’, and you smile at him – he thinks that the reason your teacher just called you out is because he was going to ask you something.

You don’t correct him – his ego doesn’t need to know the fact that you were almost distracted.

Just one more question, you think. One more question, and you’re done with this semester.

But your mind is wandering, and the fact that you still have thirty minutes left doesn’t help. When this exam started, you thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in time and wrote as fast as you could, but now there’s plenty of time and just one, tiny answer left.

You rest your elbows on your desk and check on your classmates. Everyone is frantically scribbling, and you smile evilly at the fact that you’re not one of them right now.

“Honey? You have a minute?”

You hear Charlie from behind you. You nod, and say, “I’m listening.” You don’t turn back, since you have to keep an eye on your teacher. (She is knitting right now, for some reason.)

“You wanna go somewhere for the holidays?” He says, his raspy morning voice causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.

“I’m not sure… I mean we just came back from Maui last month – do you think it’s wise to go somewhere again?”

“Well, we’ll maintain social distancing, and use masks.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Come on, it’s our fifth anniversary!”

You finally look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s shirtless, as usual. You mentally curse him as you think that you need to add ‘no being shirtless for no reason’ to your household rules. (Currently, you have three: one, no disturbing the other while working; two, following the chore chart; three, no spilling coffee or red wine on the white living room rug.) (The last one has occurred more times than one might expect.)

You focus on keeping your eyes trained on his, but you still struggle to form words. “I – not a wise idea…”

He grins, understanding the situation, as you avert your eyes back to your paper.

“Please, baby?”

You know he’s pouting.

“Fine.” You say, just to get him off your back.

“You’re the best!” He presses a kiss to your cheek and is instantly gone. As your mind still tries to hold on to the frayed strings of the warmth and the smell of his presence, you pray that your classmates didn’t notice the interaction.

You smile at Charlie’s mother, who is talking animatedly on your phone.

“Then, I told Meg to get some sugar, but she bought salt instead, and to top that, she dumped the entire bowl into my batter! Now, it tastes like absolute shit!” She glares at Megan, Charlie’s sister, who smiles sheepishly from behind her.

You laugh. “Like brother, like sister.”

“You know it.” She says, her French accent thick.

“So, I was thinking… Maybe, after the holidays, we could fly back to Dieppe? It’s not like we’re gonna go to college any time soon, so –”

“Yes, please! I miss you guys so much. You know, last night –”

She starts to say something else, but your boyfriend is doing push ups in front of you, and it’s really, really, really hard to focus, especially when his body is glistening under the afternoon sun.

He seems to feel your gaze, and sharply turns towards you, while you quickly look back to his mother.

“–but the point is, I miss you two.” She finishes, while Megan nods. “Me too, sis. It’s so boring here without you two.”

You smile and can feel warmth in your stomach. “Of course. I miss you guys, too. Charlie’s so boring.”

“Hey!”

+1.

You exhale and close the lid of your laptop. “I’m done!” You yell, and Charlie instantly appears at the door, and runs towards the bed you’re currently seated on, and jumps atop.

“Finally! I missed you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your torso, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too, baby. But now I’m done with all my assignments, so I’m all yours for the next two weeks!” You sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins, and your eyes avert to his chest, but this time, you let yourself be distracted, because after weeks of sleep deprivation and pure torture, you deserve this.

You smile, connecting your lips, and run your hands on his chest. He smiles against the kiss, and you whisper, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you so much.”

as always feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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peaxhcringe · 4 years ago

Text

Late Work

I wrote this at 2am because I got the idea and decided why tf not write this, it’s also very much my way of avoiding sleep 😌 Enjoy!

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x gn! reader

Warnings: a bit of cussing, stress, mentions of taking medication

wc: 1K

It was another night of you staring at your laptop screen, the bright light shinning in your eyes giving you you’re third headache of the week. You have no idea how long you’ve stared at the same worksheet, maybe an hour? 2? You lost track after the clock hit 11:30 pm.

Typically you’d be asleep by now, as it was a Sunday night -well Monday morning by now- but here you were doing some assignments you had managed to forget about. You totally blame Kaminari for this, if he hadn’t decided to make a stupid bet with you in Mario Kart you’d be sound asleep by now.

An annoyed sigh left your mouth as you rested your elbows on the wooden desk, letting your face fall into your hands and your eyes close. You were beyond tired even after drinking 2 cups of coffee and taking your medicine, both of which were supposed to make you focused or at least conscious.

Running your hands through your hair you leaned back in your chair, resting your arms behind your head as you stretch your back a satisfying pop filling your ears.

You glanced at your phone, thinking if you should really wake your boyfriend up. Your heart drops as you look at the time, 1:15 am, you have training first thing in the morning and at the rate, you’re going you’ll never finish this work.

Taking a deep breath you grab your phone and dialing his number and holding the phone up to your ear, heart beating loudly as you listen to the first ring then a second then a third. By the 5th ring you begin to think he isn’t gonna pick up, but as you move the phone away you hear the ringing stop then the sound of sheets shuffling.

“Hello?”

Bakugou’s voice makes your stomach do flips, you’ve heard his morning voice, plenty of times, but damn it never fails to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Hello??”

You quickly clear your throat as you realize you had begun to daze off.

“H-Hey, sorry for waking you up, but um do you think you can come over?” You ask, looking down at your lap watching as you mess with a ring on your pointer finger “You don’t have to, I just can’t get this assignment done and it’s due today and I don’t wanna-“

“Give me 5 minutes”

You’re cut off by Bakugou’s voice, a hinge of annoyance laced in his voice before the call drops.

You feel awful for waking him up, maybe you should have called Kirishima instead. With a sigh you set your phone down on the desk, glancing back towards the clock as you wait for him.

The 5 minutes felt like hours before you finally heard the soft knock then the door finally opening, a tired Bakugou slowly walking into your room. His hair was still the usual unruly mess, the only difference was the fact he was wearing the red and black flannel pajama pants you bought him for the holidays last year.

“This better be good for waking me up at 1am, what do you need?” He asks, closing the door behind him and raising a hand to rub his tired eyes.

“I need help finish these assignments, can you please help me?” You turn toward him, scooting your laptop in his direction, watching as he looks from you to the screen before nodding slowly.

“If I help you, I get to sit in the chair, so move”

You roll your eyes as you stand out of the chair, pushing it towards him lightly, the chair squeaking as he sits down.

After about 5 minutes of you standing next to him, you move his chair, sitting in his lap and facing the laptop. You’re both silent as he writes down each math problem flawlessly, your brain confused on how quickly and easily he’s able to figure out all of this shit.

Of course, he doesn’t make it that easy for you, after every other problem he makes you work it out and do it yourself, letting you use his past ones to help you finish it.

It isn’t until almost 3am when you finally get done, your eyes heavy with exhaustion while Bakugou is rather wide awake from you waking his ass up. Your head rested against his shoulder, your face in the crook of his neck as he began to close out all of the tabs you had managed to open.

His hand slowly running up and down your back, letting you snuggle closer to him, his body heat not helping you stay awake. The soothing sound of his breathing, and the soft ticking of the clock lulling you to sleep.

Although Bakugou wouldn’t dare admit it, he adored the way you’d fall asleep in his arms. He loved the way you scoot closer everytime he moved, your arms wrapping around his middle and fingers hugging tightly to his shirt.

Closing the laptop quietly, he barely lifts you, trying his best to not wake you. His hands gripping your thighs as he walks to your bed, laying you down softly and covering you up. He thought for a moment to leave and return to his room in order to let you sleep peacefully, but decided it against due to the walk back to his room.

He carefully climbed over you, getting comfortable before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to his chest, a soft hum falling from your lips as managed to move impossibly closer to him. A simple “goodnight” leaves Bakugou’s mouth as he gently kisses the top of your head before letting himself fall back asleep.

taglist: @katsulovee @blazedbakugou

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karlsjackbox · 4 years ago

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the end. | irl!quackity x gn!reader

A VIEW OF two people falling out of love.

type: angst

warnings: taking pills (brief, not much context), swearing, fight, death threat

w/c: 1.6k

quackity pushed his hair out of his face, fingers placing themselves in a rhythm on the keyboard. music played through his headphones, placed on the second to last volume to help soothe his aching headache. eyes traveling to the corner of the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it being 4:57am. rubbing his eyes, he leaned back and let out a sigh. saving the document he was writing on, quackity shut off the monitor and shuffled his feet.

the door across the room opened. snapping his eyes forward, quackity was met with his s/o holding their cat, tired smile adorning their face. quackity mirrored the smile, pushing himself off of the chair and standing beside his love. “you’re awake late.” he muttered, though his words slurred together. y/n looked at him with a lopsided grin, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “couldn’t sleep without you.” quackity gasped, using his hands to cover tiger’s eyes.

the paired laughed, dragging themselves to the bedroom.

it had been a few weeks. y/n’s eyes forced themselves open, bed empty beside them. quackity was laughing down the hallway, having to ignored the text from y/n asking him to tone down just a little. rubbing their eyes, y/n sat up and tapped on their phone. 4:23 am. muttering a curse to themself, they laid back down. shutting their eyes, y/n eventually fell asleep to the sound of their boyfriends muffled laughter and curses.

quackity ended the stream near 5am. he leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his face as the discord call eventually dropped. grabbing his phone, he check notifications and read the text from y/n with a frown. he texted a quick sorry ! just saw this :( coming to bed now <3. with no text back, he pushed himself off of the chair and shuffled his way to the bedroom. tiger rubbed against his leg, the mexican biting a smile back. y/n laid curled up, body facing the wall as they snored quietly.

quackity shuffled out of his day clothes, sliding into pajamas as he laid beside y/n and fell asleep.

y/n danced around the kitchen, music playing quietly through their phone as they made their breakfast. they hummed along, carefully pouring their cereal into their bowl. scratching their chin, they turned at the noise of somebody behind them. quackity stood in the doorway, hair messed up from sleep. “hi, my love.” y/n greeted.

taking a minute to answer, quackity shut off his phone and sighed. “good morning.” he sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes. “whats up?” y/n asked, pouring their milk and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. they sat across from quackity, who had picked up his phone as it buzzed.

“tommy wants me to record today and george wants me on his stream. i’m trying to make them both work and i just don’t know if i can.” quackity explained, using his hand for more emphasize. y/n swallowed the cereal before answering, crossing their legs at the ankle. “i think you need a day off.” they huffed, eyes rolling. “i wish.” quackity responded, standing to make his own cereal.

“i’m serious. we haven’t spent time together in forever.” y/n shrugged, getting no response. “i can try for soon, but definitely not today.” quackity kissed y/n’s temple before he sat across from them again.

quackity didn’t talk to y/n until the next afternoon.

y/n sat on the couch, holding a mug of hot cocoa. their legs were crossed, eye trained to the television screen as rapunzel played. they hummed along to the songs, turning at the sound of footsteps. quackity held his phone to his ear, laughing at something somebody said.

y/n smiled at him and gave a short wave, quackity repeating the wave and making his way into the kitchen. the refrigerator door opened and closed, y/n turning their head and resuming the movie.

quackity took out the strawberry container from the fridge and made his way into the living room, standing at the doorway as he listened to karl talk. eventually he tossed the container away, finishing the strawberries and going back upstairs to his recording room.

by the time the movie finished, the sun was barely kissing the horizon. turning spotify on through the tv, music started to play through the playlist, ‘y/n & quackity!!’. y/n smiled at the memory of them sitting together and making the playlist on their second date.

making their way into the kitchen, y/n opened the cabinet and pulled out the pasta noodles. pulling out a pot and filling it with water, they began to boil it and dump in the noodles. their phone gave a simple ding! and another notification came through.

alex<3: can u plz turn music down? streaming soon x

y/n frowned, though gave a simple thumbs up. they tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl and left it to drip, entering the living room and shutting of the tv in a whole. tiger sat on the couch, head peeking up with a quiet ‘mrrp?’ as the noise suddenly ended. cooing, y/n walked over and scooped him up, cradling him as they made their way into the kitchen again to stir the pasta.

setting tiger down on the floor after 15 minutes, y/n scooped the pasta into two seperate bowls and ran butter through them. deciding against sauce, y/n placed the bowls on the table and texted quackity.

you: made pasta !! <3

the food was still untouched by the next morning.

it had been a while since then. y/n woke up before quackity. they were faced with his back, black sweatshirt hugging his body. they sat up slowly, sun fading through the curtains and hitting the blanket. they shivered a little, blinking hard a few times to try and wake themselves up. after a few more moments, they pulled their legs out from underneath the blanket and carefully moved away from quackity and out of the room.

quackity woke up an hour or so later, groaning softly as the sun had now positioned itself to hit his eyes directly. he sat up, head turning to look at y/n. frowning as nobody was there, he picked up his phone and drug himself out of the room. the house was empty as he searched around for his s/o, frown adorning his face.

standing in front of the fridge, a sticky note hung to it.

quackity ripped off the sticky note, crumbling it in his pocket as he opened the fridge to search for his breakfast.

y/n returned home that night to the noise of muffled swears and laughter, though y/n wore mainly a frown. their bones ached and a headache roared. sighing, they dropped their bag and kicked off their shoes and made their way into the bathroom. they opened the medicine cabinet and took out tylenol, swallowing the pill with sink water in their mouth.

rubbing their nose, y/n made their way upstairs to their bedroom. they grabbed clean clothes and made their way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water run until it was hot. they stripped and dropped their clothes onto the floor, pushing them into the corner before stepping into the shower. y/n couldn’t help the sigh that escaped their mouth as everything from the day washed away, lathering their hair with shampoo and conditioner.

quackity ended the stream around the same time that y/n stepped out of the shower. he sat at his desk for a moment longer, chatter with his friends slowly dying down. “hey guys, i’m gonna head off now.” after a wave of goodbyes, he left the discord call and stood up.

quackity made his way into the bedroom, y/n sat on the edge of the bed. sliding off his beanie, quackity ruffled his hair and let himself fall beside his s/o. they didn’t talk, y/n texting somebody before shutting off their phone. they let out a sigh and rubbed their face, tossing their phone beside them.

curling up, y/n and quackity fell asleep facing each other for the last time.

they woke up at the same time. y/n sat up and rubbed their eyes, yawn falling from their mouth. there was a tension in the room quackity couldn’t figure out. “hey, wanna watch a movie?” y/n asked, scratching their nose as they met eyes with their sleepy boyfriend. “mm.. i can’t. i have homework and i have to be on a stream,” quackity slurred, missing how y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. tsking, y/n stood. “right.”

quackity’s head shot up at their tone. “what do you mean?” he questioned, choosing to stay silent on their eye roll. “you haven’t spent time with me in ages. i’m shocked i even fell asleep with you beside me.” the younger shrugged, opening their closet to pull out a sweatshirt.

“yeah, because its my job? the fuck do you mean?” quackity sat up, leaning his weight on his hands. “okay? you can still make time for me. i’m not just somebody who feeds you, alex.” y/n turned to meet his eyes, hands resting on their hips. “i can handle myself, you know.” quackity rolled his eyes.

“i wanna see you fucking try.” y/n looked the older up and down. “you just mooch off of me anyway. if you’re so pissy about me working then leave.” quackity seethed, anger radiating off of me. he froze as the words fell out of his mouth, y/n’s hands dropping. “i hope you fucking starve. waste of space.” y/n cursed, turning and grabbing their bag from the closet.

“y/n, i didn’t-- we didn’t mean that.” quackity apologized, stepping towards the younger. y/n stayed silent, shoving random clothes into their backpack. quackity didn’t try to fight them, standing and watching them pack with tears brimming his eyes.

“..is it the end for us?” it was silent. the silence pushed against quackity’s skull, taunting him in a way he would remember forever. y/n turned, face blank as their eyes were puffy.

“it was the end a long time ago.”

#quackity x reader #quackity x you #mcyt x reader #streamer x reader #streamer x you #mcyt x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dsmp imagines

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stressedoutcanary · 4 years ago

Text

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 2]

WORD COUNT :- 2.3k

Warnings ⚠️: I don't even know if there are any...Swearing maybe?, mentions of kidnappings, actual kidnapping oh and also violence and angst :)

A/N 😋: I got lost while writing this so judge accordingly people. Also forgive me for any mistakes. I TRIED.

Part 1 , Part 3

•°•°•°•°

“JASON STOP!!!!!”, your voice echoed in the silent warehouse.

Jason stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your voice, his mind was brimming with thoughts, questions and worst of all, emotions.

“Well, well, well, look who crawled out of her little cave”, He said smugly as he finally turned around to face you. The voice was his, you’d recognize that voice anywhere but it felt cold, devoid of emotions, hearing him like that sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel your determination slipping.

Even though you had your cowl on, Jason could still see how much his rampage was hurting you but he couldn’t stop now, not when all he had left to do was to capture Joker, beat the living shit out of that asshole and show Bruce how much of a failure Batman’s moral compass really is.

“Well? Got nothing to say now?... Why am I not surprised?”, Jason scoffed.

You took a deep breath, you were breaking down inside but you sure as hell weren’t going to let that stop you. You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, “Jason...Jay...Stop all this...Please, come home, come back to the--”

“Manor? Home? Did you hit your head (Y/N)? Why in the hell would I ever go back to a place where NOBODY GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, WHERE HE REPLACED ME AS IF I MEANT NOTHING?!”, Jason didn’t want to lose control of himself, not in front of you. So with visible effort he calmed himself down, took a step forward and gave you a deadpan look.

“You all left me”

Your blood boiled at that statement.

“How dare you?! We lost you! We mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, listening to him you wondered whether he truly believed the words actually coming out of his own mouth.

“The Jason I knew was a roughed up street boy who still cared when many didn't, who called Bruce out every step of the way, who had this ridiculous favoritism for bread, who had the guts to take out a tire from the fricking Batmobile”, despite the dreadful situation you smiled remembering those sweet memories.

You looked him in the eye, pleading in a way, and you spoke softly, “The Jason I knew was The Robin to my Batgirl. This-this is just not who you are Jay, not really...So can you just stop?”

He looked unfazed by your words and cocked his head to the side.

“Princess, the only way you can stop me is if you fight me, knock me down real hard, make sure that I won't get back up again. Tell me Batgirl, can you do it? Do you actually have what it takes?”, he waited for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. As expected, all he was met with was silence.

Long, Painful Silence.

With that Jason knew what he had to do, he put on his red helmet and swung out of the nearest window, you couldn't stop him, for all your big talk, you just couldn't. He was right you failed him.

•°•°

You jumped awake with a start, bolting upright and immediately regretting your subconscious decision, the throbbing pain made you clutch the back of your head with your palm and you closed your eyes again to achieve some semblance of reality as a way of grounding yourself.

‘It was just a dream (Y/N)…just...a...dream’

You tried to lie to yourself knowing deep down that it was a memory, something you have already lived through, something you regret everyday. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It felt dry and your whole body was sore. You really should've called in early and then maybe Dick would've been the one stuck in this crapy situation and not you.

Pushing past your perplexed state you got up and took in your surroundings, there were vines hanging from the open roof, a LOT of flowers and some Venus flytraps by the corner. It wouldn’t even take being a detective to figure out where you were; The Botanical Gardens.

“How the hell did I end up here”, you muttered under your breath. This was getting out of hands.

“See Pammy I told ya Girl-Bat would rise and shine by now”

“I can see that Harls”

‘Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, just great, is nobody in Arkham these days’

The duo descended down from the open roof through one of the vines and stood in front of you. Harley looked as happy as a 10 year old about to get their favorite toy and Ivy seemed to be interested in anything and everything that did not concern you. Classic.

“Why the hell did you both kidnap me?”

You jumped forward and grabbed Harley by the collar of her dress, in retrospect it wasn't the best move but it's not like you were thinking straight at the time anyway.

A vine wrapped itself around your waist and you were tugged back by such force that you were sure there was gonna be a big bruise there tomorrow. You skidded across the floor and finally stopped when your back connected with a bench. You were just too drained to fight back so instead you just crawled up and sat on the bench with a grunt.

‘Not fighting my way out of this one so for once let’s try talking’

“Whoa, should ya really be this obnoxious when ya got a concussion?”, Harley burst your thought bubble as she looked you over.

“Wait, Did you just call me obnoxious?!”

“But don'tcha worry I am a doctor and I got a PhD”

“In psychology!”

“I will fix ya in no time”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Just like that you saw Harley leave the room to go get some medical supplies, or well at least you thought that that's what she was going to do, you turned your face towards Ivy hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

“So you both finally done babbling? And here I thought it was never going to end.”, She looked at you from where she was petting her plant, and made her way over to you, something about her seemed genuine. You got the feeling that whatever she had to say, it won't be a lie.

“Try and not mind what Harley does, she's just happy to make new friends for girls night.” She sighed before continuing, “As for your question, last night we were near the Gotham Central Park when we saw a masked man dragging your unconscious body out of a building and into a van parked in the alley, so we kil-- we took care of him and brought you here”, She shrugged as if that explains why the Poison Ivy just saved your life.

"Wait that means Red isn't here", you whispered more to yourself than to others.

“Pam is Red!”, Harley said cheerfully as she came back out nowhere with a bunch of boxes which would've made you very uneasy if your mind wasn't already preoccupied.

“What Harley means to say is that if you are trying to ask about that gun loving leather jacket vigilante who wears a red helmet, then no we don't know where he is”

Her words sunk in and yesterday's memories flashed in your mind, your eyes widened under your mask as the realization hit you like a bus.

The missing people, the creepy mannequins, the medical journals regarding surgeries, the weirdo in the white mask instead of a face, the poster of some Pretty Dolls parlor; Now it all makes sense!

“Pyg!”

"Huh?", the women in front of you almost jumped at your sudden revelation.

“Lazlo Valentin aka Professor Pyg that's the son of a bitch who is behind all this mess, he's the one who has got Red Hood And it's all my fault! Now, He might be dead already! I should've known, I-I should've figured it out quicker, I should've done something, DAMN IT!!”, you buried you face in your hands due to the building frustration within you.

“Don't be like that”, you heard Harley's voice as a hand was placed on your shoulder, she sat down on the bench next to you, you turned your head and eyed her warily, seeing nothing but concern.

“Don't give up. Clearly this Hoodie person means a lot to ya so you get off your ass and go get him, don't you Bat People always find a way”, you looked at her for a moment, then jumped up on your feet.

“Can't believe I am saying this but you are right Harley, I need go and I will find a way to save him, but before leaving I wanna know something”, you looked Ivy in the eyes as you worded your next sentence, “Why save me?”

“It was just my way of replaying you for saving Harls from that clown once”, instead of elaborating Ivy just crossed her hands over her chest waiting for you to leave. You gave her a warm smile, something they are not used to seeing, from a bat of all people.

“Thank you Pamela”

With that you were out of that detour and onto finding the path leading up to Jason.

•°•°

Somehow you reached the safe house without running into some kind of trouble, with how your day has been going, you were completely expecting something else to go wrong. Thankfully it didn't. You took out a spare comms unit, keys for your bike and some aspirin to dull the headache.

Soon you were whizzing past vehicles at full speed triying to contact anyone available at the moment.

“Come on pick up, pick up, pick up! What's the meaning of giving us an emergency button when no one picks the damn thing up”, you spoke into a dead line, wishing you could just bang your head against a wall, on second thought not a good idea.

Two minutes later the call was finally picked up and a screen appeared on the dash of your bike, it was from the batcave and you could see Dick, Damian and Bruce in sitting in front of the computer, Tim was connected from what you assumed to be the titans tower. However Dick was the first one to pop the question.

“(Y/N) what's the emergency? Are you okay? We haven't heard from you since last night”

“Look no time to explain. Jason's been taken by Pyg and I need you guys to give me a location. Now”, you said gritting your teeth as you narrowly missed a truck for the second time this evening.

“Todd's captured? *tt* his incompetence precedes that of Drake”, Damian's snarky remark made Tim snap his head up.

“Hey!”

“Boys”, Bruce's stern voice made them quiet enough for the time being, “Batgirl you are injured and your emotions can compromise the whole rescue, go back to the safe house and let us handle this”, Bruce ended the transmission and it made you angry.

'He said that they are going to handle it, that means they know where he is, so now all I have to do is to get Dick to spill it out'

You dialed Dick back, hoping he would understand what you are trying to do.

“I know why you specifically choose to call me back and No I am not letting you go head first into danger without any of us with you especially when you are compromised”, Dick's tone was stern but laced with concern.

“Dick the last time Bruce said he will handle it, Jason died, look I know what he is trying to say, I get him, I can't blame him for wanting to look after me but you have to understand I have to be the one to get him back”

“Why?!”

“Because I can't lose him again! The last thing that I said to him was that I might never forgive him! Never forgive him for something that's not even his fault! You are my only hope at getting him back, please don't take that away from me, please”, you pleaded with him as you slowed down the bike to a stop.

The line was silent for a while, the thought about saying more to him crossed your mind; what you are feeling about Jason, how much he matters to you, how you've failed him more than once, but ultimately decided against it and instead you just waited for his reply.

You deflated as soon as you realized that the line was cut but the ping of a notification caught your attention; The map to the possible location of Jason.

“Dick Grayson, you big softie”, you smirked, your bike roared as you made your way on to the free way heading fast towards the Gotham outskirts.

Meanwhile at Professor Pyg's 'supervillain headquarters' :

Jason slowly woke up, assessing the situation he quickly came to the conclusion that he messed up and now he is tied up to what seems like dentist's chair.

“Great, there has got to be a new record I've set in this family for messing up and getting kidnapped”, Jason muttered under his breath, he tried to tug at his restraints to get free but it turned out to be fruitless. A blinding light was switch on above him and he grunted due to the intensity.

“Man, what is up with you people and light?! Turn it off already!”, Jason said as he tried to adjust his eyes accordingly, when he came to, he was met with his captor himself.

Jason just stared at the man in front, moving towards him, wearing a pig mask and holding a butcher knife. He has seen enough crazy but this guy might just rival the Joker himself.

“Pyg know you broken. Pyg make you perfect”

“WHAT THE F--”

°•°•°•°•

(I like to think I am funny)

Cute little extra note: Yes it is the second time I'm leaving you guys hanging and NOPE I do not regret my decision.

Tagging: @ladyperceval

#jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #batgirl!reader imagine #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd x batgirl!reader #red hood x batgirl!reader #jason todd #red hood #batfamily

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