#it seems I use the “hey I need some help” trope a lot

[cosmereplay]

Happy Fanfic Friday, and happy my birthday months! This week I'm recommending my non-Shakadolin multi/poly fics:

Truthberry Wine - 600 words, rated Explicit. Kalami and Teleb have an arrangement with Kadash.

Jasnah's Game - 5000 words, rated Explicit. Ace domme Jasnah requests Shallan's creative help in playing a BDSM game with Wit.

Kaladin's Crash Course in Mateform - 2000 words, rated Explicit. Renarin asks Kaladin's help with Rlain, who is in mateform and desperately horny.

The Scouting Party - 5000 words, rated Explicit. Kaladin, Lyn, Laran, Mela, and Kara scout out a sex pollen-style spren.

The Incident at Kholinar - 7000 words, rated Explicit. Elhokar, Veil, and Kaladin get caught by a sex pollen-style spren. Adolin is somewhere nearby. Was he caught in it too?

Below the cut, you can find fics with darker themes:

Allies in the Alley - 2000 words, rated Explicit, CW drug addiction mention. Kaladin gets Veil's help to distract Teft when he's struggling. This one's actually more wholesome than it seems at first glance.

Breaking Him In: First Night - 3000 words, rated Explicit, CW noncon, blood, violence, alcohol abuse. The Blackthorn has Kadash show his new recruit Teleb how things are done in his elites. Please beware the tags on this one!

A Dynasty to Last Forever - 1000 words, rated Explicit, CW objectification of women. Gavilar has a breeding kink and he uses the power at his disposal to make his fantasies come true.

[huggingkoalas]

𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝? 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count — ‧₊˚ 2.9k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

authors note — ‧₊˚ haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?” 

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily. 

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

 “Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you. 

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around. 

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod. 

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you. 

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile. 

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.” 

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. 

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple —  you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room. 

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile. 

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. 

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

[arctrooper69]

Hello! I love your stories. Could I request a Drabble about Wrecker being a body guard for a Princess trope? She likes him but he doesn’t think she does. And if it fits “Can you lock the door please?” From your prompt list. Thanks!

Hello friend! I'm so so so sorry that it's taken so long for me to get this out to you! I've been sitting on this for probably about a year now. So sorry! Also... it turned into a full-blown 12 page fic instead of a drabble. Hope you enjoy!!!! 😂❤️🫂

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The Princess and the Wrecking Ball

Wrecker x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Loss due to wartime, small mention of blood. Mostly just some cute hurt/comfort 🥰

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"Really Hunter?" complained Wrecker, "A princess?"

Hunter frowned and nodded. "Yes. Just for a few days." He looked around at the others for confirmation and they simply nodded.

"Why do you seem to be the only one that has a problem with this?" Hunter gestured to his brother with thinly veiled frustration. He'd never seen Wrecker this adverse to a mission before. Even when it required rappelling from treacherous heights.

"Because last time he met a princess he fell head over heels for her and she hated his guts." Crosshair spoke evenly as he sat on his bunk, cleaning his rifle.

Hunter frowned, looking back at Wrecker. "Is that what this is about?"

Wrecker looked down, shrugging nervously. He rubbed the back of his head. "I just don't like Princesses, okay? They think they're all that and then they look at you with those pretty eyes and you think you've got a chance, and you think they really like you and then they realize that you're a clone and call you a stupid, ugly mistake."

The group was silent.

Hunter cleared his throat, "Well, you don't have to get along with her. We're just supposed to transport her safely back to her uncle on Coruscant."

Wrecker crossed his arms, frowning, "Why do we gotta do it?"

"She's in danger, Wrecker." Echo explained, "and it's a favor for Senator Amidala."

"Why can't she do it?"

"She's a senator. She can't exactly sneak into Separatist territory."

"Besides," Hunter added, "The princess' uncle has offered us a lot of money to get her safely to him."

Crosshair looked up. "You mean, we're actually getting paid this time?"

"But - " protested Wrecker.

Hunter looked at him sharply. "We're going to get that princess and you're going to treat it just like another mission. That's an order. Got it?"

Wrecker groaned, "Yeah Sarge, I got it."

"Good. I don't want to hear another word about it from you."

"Do I at least get to blow something up?"

"We'll see."

Wrecker grumbled under his breath. Hunter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't say anything else.

"Well..." Tech spoke up, "Now that that's settled, I'm making a list of everything we need to requisition."

Tech held the datapad out to Echo. He looked over the list.

"I can't think of anything else."

"What about the princess?" Wrecker asked suddenly.

Crosshair sighed, "Here we go again..."

"Hey! I'm just tryin' to be helpful!"

Hunter closed his eyes, "What about her, Wrecker."

"Well uh.... Won't she need things too?"

Tech looked up, "I have included rations for an extra passenger on the way back. That will not be an issue."

Wrecker shifted awkwardly. "Yeah but... What about... women things?"

Crosshair choked on his caf.

Tech blinked, “What women things?”

Wrecker shrugged, “I saw some ad on Coruscant for it once. I don’t remember what it’s called. Think it happens like on a full moon or something, every couple rotations?"

Tech lowered the datapad in his hand to stare at his brother. “She is a woman, Wrecker... not a werewolf."

Hunter closed his eyes again and sighed, rubbing at his temples. Some days he wondered how exactly it was that they'd made it as commandos this long.

"I'm gonna go ahead and veto that one. I think it would be a little weird for a group of elite soldiers to have uh... women things.... on the ship."

Wrecker grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful."

Crosshair nudged his shin with the butt of his rifle. "Lighten up, Wreck. We are literally getting paid to play taxi for a pretty princess. We could do this in our sleep." He chuckled, "Actually I'm pretty sure I have done something like this in my sleep."

Tech rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass, Crosshair."

"At least I can get a woman's attention if I wanted to," he goaded.

Tech scoffed, "For your information, I have had several females ask for my com frequency."

"That's enough!" Hunter placed his hand firmly on the table. "Seriously guys? You're acting like a bunch of shiny regs. This is a mission. We're going to act like professionals."

"Have we ever really been professional?" quipped Tech.

Hunter sighed, "Let me rephrase that. We're going to do this just like we've done any other extraction. We get in, grab the target, get out. Got it?"

A chorus of "yes, sir"s announced the end of the discussion.

---

The smooth finish of the once beautiful wood floor felt cold on your cheek as you hid beneath the bed.

"Run! Run and don't look back!" Your mother's terrified voice echoed in your ears, and then the click of the lock as she pushed you into the back hall. Then the shrill scream she'd let out as the droids dragged her away. You'd only run when you heard the blaster fire.

One shot. Thud.

Your father and brother crying out in anguish.

Two shots. Thud. Thud.

Silence. Then voices - modulated and mechanical. Cold and calculating.

"Find the girl."

"Roger Roger."

You felt the dust creep up around your fingers, digging under your nails as you felt along the floor. It floated into your nose and down your throat, tickling and irritating. You suppressed a heavy sneeze that popped your ears, making you aware of every tiny noise. The metallic, icy fear that gripped your chest twisted every noise into something mechanical and violent.

It has to be here somewhere.

There.

Your fingers found purchase on a small, metal surface. The biometric lock whirred to life as you pressed your fingers to the surface.

A hatch hissed open revealing a small room in the wall beside the bed. You crawled out from under the bed, dusting off your pants. It felt naked, being out in the open like this. Dangerous. Vulnerable.

Deftly, you climbed into the hidden room and the hatch hissed closed behind you, locking you in. A dim light illuminated a small room. An emergency com device sat on a stool in the corner and a blaster hung on the wall. A ladder along the back wall led upwards. You had been here enough times with your father that you knew it led to the rooftop. But this time, it wasn't a drill and this time, you were alone.

You dialed the frequency.

A trooper sporting a red and white helmet appeared on the screen. Though you couldn't see his face, he seemed bored.

"This is a secure channel. You shouldn't have this number."

"I..." your voice left your lungs as barely a whisper.

"What's that?" He sounded annoyed now. A knot formed in the back of your throat.

"Speak clearly, please."

"I need to speak to my uncle." The words came out forced and choked.

"Look ma'am, this is a secure channel for GAR personnel only."

Someone said something in the background and the trooper turned, "...nothing, Sir. Just some civvie with the wrong number." He paused, listening to whoever was in the room with him. "...yeah she's trying to call her uncle or something. I'll handle it."

The screen shifted and suddenly instead of the trooper your uncle's face appeared.

"I... I need help." It took everything you had left in you not to burst into tears as you told him what happened. How the droid army came. How your father refused them. How they killed his family first and then him. How you ran and hid.

"Okay," Came his soft reply. "Okay. Keep the door locked and stay where you are. I'll send someone to come for you."

----

The message had come in only a matter of hours and now you waited, lying flat on the roof, for the ship to come carry you away.

Smoke rose in columns. You could smell the fires and tried not to think about the screaming. The people - your people - were dying and there you were, hiding away. Waiting for a rescue that the common citizen would have no hope of. Their choice was to surrender or die. They would die here.

Suddenly shouts rang out just below. "Hey! You! Stop!" The cold, whiny voice of a foot soldier. There was a scrambling of hurried footsteps as whoever they were chasing ran and tripped. You peered over the edge of the building.

"Hey! Where'd you go?" The battledroid sounded confused. Whoever it was chasing hid well.

You watched the figure slowly crawl, inching his way along the entrance to a garbage chute. There were only two ways for him to crawl. A dead end or the garbage chute. The droid seemed to suddenly notice this as well.

"Ha. Ha. You have nowhere to hide now."

He looked young - only a child. Maybe 12 or 13. He looked terrified.

Gritting your teeth, you made a decision you hoped you wouldn't regret.

"Hey!" You shouted. Both the boy and the droid looked up. "You leave him alone!"

"Look, it's the princess!"

"Wait, she's not supposed to be here!"

Kriff. There are more of them.

"I'll take care of her."

Both turned their blasters towards you. The boy was gone but now you'd given up your position.

Kriff. Now I'm dead.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the inevitable blast that would carry you back into the arms of your family.

---

The blast came louder than you'd expected - more painful too. Your head throbbed fiercely and ears rang loud enough to muffle the sounds of yelling and blaster fire. The ragged edges of the wall lay rough and cold as your fingers found purchase on its stones, gripping tightly to shakily pull yourself to your feet. Something wet and warm trickled down your forehead, stinging your eye. You hissed as your fingers found the small cut above your eyebrow, fingers coming away red and slick.

Someone was shouting.

"Princess! Princess!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

"Princess!"

That voice again, loud and deep - shredding through the thudding of your pulse and the ringing shock in your head.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you, yanking you from the ground where you stood.

Panic sprang from every pore in your body as you struggled against that impossible grip.

"Hey! Calm down! You're safe! I got ya!"

He was running. The world seemed to flow by as if you were watching it through someone else's eyes.

Smoke drifted through the sky. Fires burned hot and buildings lay broken and crumbled. The only thing that felt real were the strong arms of the man carrying you from the carnage. Away from everything you'd ever known.

---

Your eyes never left the burning horizon of your home until the vast blur of hyperspace wrenched it away. It was only then you found yourself taking a breath, gasping as if you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Are you okay?" A figure knelt beside you, slowly drawing your gaze to him. Long, dark hair hung over a dirty red bandana. "My name's Hunter. That's Crosshair, Tech, and Echo." He pointed out each of his brothers, "and that's Wrecker. He's the one who brought you back here."

You looked up at him. The large man looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped.

Hunter got up to join his brothers, leaving you to sit alone on the bunk.

You winced, bringing a hand up to your forehead as the cut stung with the stale air of the ship. Wrecker's look of feigned indifference suddenly morphed to one of concern as he peered through the short passageway of the ship.

"Hey she's bleeding!"

Wrecker immediately grabbed the medscanner, turning towards you - then paused.

He glanced away, the urgent need to make sure you were okay, suddenly transformed into an anxious uncertainty. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"Here you do it!" he grunted before violently shoving the device at Tech who fumbled it a nanosecond before deftly catching it with sturdy fingers.

Tech frowned, "You are perfectly capable of taking the scan yourself." He sighed as Wrecker averted his eyes. "...but I will take over from here if that is what you want."

"Thanks Tech... I - I just don't wanna make 'er uncomfortable, ya know... in case she's scared of me on account of how I'm... Ehh, you know..."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "I do not think that is a problem, but I'm sure she would appreciate your consideration."

---

Wrecker sat glumly on the floor, leaning against Gonky, watching as Tech headed back up to the cockpit. His eyes slowly lingered back to you as you sat on the edge of the bunk.

"See, she's staring!" whispered Wrecker, leaning over to Crosshair, "I don't think she likes me."

Crosshair shook his head. "She's just in shock. Her family was practically killed in front of her. She's scared."

You could hear them whisper, glancing over at the way you sat stiffly on the bunk he'd sat you on.

Wrecker, he said his name was. An apt name for his profession. Yet, contrary to the tales that Tech had regaled to you, Wrecker seemed to simmer to a calm around you - like any sudden movement might scare you away. The concern was nice, but unnecessary.

He'd seemed so passionate when he'd jumped to save you from that blast.

"Hold on!" he'd boomed. "I've got you!" And you believed him.

Wrecker - the calm within the storm, until he became the storm itself. That was a nice thought.

Lifting your feet onto the bunk, you curled into the thin mattress. You wouldn't sleep. You couldn't. If you closed your eyes, those sounds would haunt you again.

"Run!"

Screaming.

"No!"

Blaster fire.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

No sleep would come tonight if you could help it - but the heavy fluttering of your exhausted eyelids soon proved to be more than you could fight.

---

"She woke up screaming."

The words, supposed to be a whisper, echoed dimly from the cockpit into the bunk where you lay - not quite asleep, but not awake either.

"We all heard it, Wreck." Came the somber reply from their leader.

"Yeah." A moment of silence. "Think one of us should talk to her?"

"Maybe."

"Tech, you do it! You're good at knowing stuff."

"I am unsure if I would be a suitable candidate for a conversation on such a delicate matter. I can offer solutions to improve her sleep but I do not think that is the issue here. Perhaps Echo should be the one to talk to her?"

"I don't know..."

Another moment of uneasy silence.

"Aw, come on guys" Wrecker's loud voice complained.

"Shhhhhh!" Chorused his brothers.

"Oh. Sorry!" His whisper wasn't much quieter.

"Wrecker's right," Hunter spoke. "Someone should talk to her."

"Wrecker, you should do it." Offered Echo.

"Me!? Why? I'm no good at stuff like that!"

"Hmm.... Echo may be right. She does seem to have an emotional connection to you, Wrecker. More so than to us."

"Wha.... whaddya mean?"

"He means she likes you, Wrecker." His brother smacked him on the shoulder.

"Hey! She does not!"

Crosshair smirked, "Oh she definitely does."

Wrecker fervently shook his head, "Does not!"

"Does to! In fact, I heard her last night in the fresher." Crosshair's grin widened, "She was all 'oh Wrecker, ohhh'" he mimicked the sound of your voice in jest.

Wrecker froze. "She did not! Yer just making that up!" He glanced at Hunter. If anyone had heard anything it would've been him. Hunter glared at Crosshair, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. I made that up. But..." he poked his brother in the gut with a boney finger. "I still think she likes you."

Wrecker frowned, rubbing a hand on the back of his bald head. He still looked unsure.

"Just get in there!" Crosshair kicked the back of his knee, causing him to stumble forward a few feet towards your bunk.

---

Wrecker sat awkwardly for a moment. He licked his lips. You blinked up at him, sleep still clouding your eyes in a confused daze.

He took a breath. He could do this.

It took you a few moments to fully wake, and another few to realize that Wrecker was sitting on his bunk, staring at you. A rush of heat stirred butterflies through your stomach - a feeling that had become all too familiar since being aboard this ship.

Wrecker looked nervous.

You blinked at him, tilting your head. He was still staring. "Uhh... Can I help you with something, Wrecker?"

"You dream bad." He blurted out.

Huh? A look of confusion crossed your face as a look of horror overtook his own.

"No! I mean.... I mean..." He shouted.

You jumped, startled.

He cleared his throat, looking mortified. "I mean... Ya... You..." he stuttered miserably. "Ya had a bad dream and I was just wonderin' if you were okay." He looked down, "That's all." He gulped. Great, he blew it. "I'll uh... I'll leave ya alone now."

He turned towards the cockpit, face red with embarrassment.

"Wait..." Your voice called out from behind him. "Wrecker wait...."

He paused.

"I... I think it was really sweet of you to come see if I was okay."

He heard you shift on the bunk, sitting up to swing your legs over the side.

"I... I'm sorry if I woke you up."

You sounded sad and Wrecker felt his heart crack. He turned back around, sitting down on his bunk again, facing you.

"Nah, I was already up." He chuckled, that explosive grin reappeared across his face. "Besides, it's pretty impossible to wake me up. Just ask Tech. One time him 'n Crosshair made a bet to see what they could do to make me wake up."

You giggled, the icy fear that gripped your chest began to warm. "What ended up waking you up?" You asked, genuinely curious. "Who won the bet?"

Wrecker grinned. "Crosshair did. He put a tooka treat in my ear and left the ship open. It was when we landed on Lotho Minor. There's lots of tookas around there."

You giggled, imagining a sleeping Wrecker surrounded by an army of tiny mewing tookas.

He was silent again and you felt those angry claw sneak their way around you again, freezing through your veins. Wrecker must have noticed, his smile faded.

"Didja wanna talk about it? Or..." he trailed off.

You shivered and leaned into him. Without thinking, he put his arm around you, pulling you closer - keeping you warm.

"I... It's just a lot to process." You said softly. "I just keep remembering. I keep hearing them die."

Wrecker didn't say anything. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see somethin' like that. Yer a princess. Yer supposed to go ta parties and drink those fancy juice things and eat those tiny sandwiches."

You sighed, "It's not all just parties and fancy stuff all the time, you know."

Wrecker sat up, looking at you. "It's not!?"

"No," you chuckled. "Sometimes it's sitting in on a really boring meeting. Sometimes it's learning how to fire a blaster in case you have to defend yourself."

"Whoa..."

You smiled sadly, "Lots of people don't like me when they hear I'm a princess. I think they think, that I think I'm better than them or something."

"That's a lot of thinkin'" Wrecker replied, not meeting your eyes. You chuckled.

It was silent again.

Wrecker cleared his throat, “I uhh… I think I know what you mean.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“A lotta people - “ Wrecker started, then paused. “Well, most people actually. They think I’m stupid just because I’m big and kinda slow with words and stuff.”

You frowned. “But aren’t you the demolition expert? You blow stuff up, right?”

Wrecker grinned at that, momentarily forgetting the awkward seriousness of the conversation before. “You bet I do!”

His smile was contagious and you found it inflicting its endearing passion across your own face. “Well then you can’t be dumb, silly!” you teased. “Don’t you have to be super smart to learn to build and disable all those explosives?”

Wrecker paused, “I dunno…”

You cut him off. “And not to mention the chemistry and physics and numbers it takes to do what you do so well!”

Wrecker shifted brushing his hand against your leg. You froze, suddenly realizing exactly how close you were to him - how his arm draped warmly around your back. The unexpected contact seemed to leave you breathless.

What was this?

Your skin seemed to burn where he'd touched you. You looked up at him.

This mountain of a man had saved you without even ever having met you before. He'd charged right into blaster fire, scooping you up as though you weighed nothing and he did it all with a smile on his face. You let out a shaky breath, shivering as he shifted and brushed against you once more.

Immediately, Wrecker jumped to his feet, realizing his mistake.

"I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya or... or touch ya... I..." He stuttered, "I... I'm such a..."

You looked up at him wide-eyed. "Wait! Wrecker stop!"

He paused, looking down miserably.

Now it was your turn to blush, "I... I didn't mind it." You said quietly, looking down at your feet.

He still looked unsure.

"I like being around you, Wrecker. You make me feel safe."

He looked down to where you patted the spot on the bunk beside you.

"You sure?" He asked tentatively.

You nodded, "I'm sure."

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he sat again.

"What?" You smiled, leaning towards him.

"I thought you weren't going to like me... Just like you thought we weren't gonna like you."

"Of course I like you, Wrecker! And I'm really glad you were the one to find me."

--------------------------------------------------

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[sundrop-writes]

Push and Pull

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Summary:

While playing games with Viper, Emily (accidentally) plays on your attraction to her - something you had been trying to hide since you started with the BAU. The results end up being more than interesting.

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension.

Word Count: 2,800 words

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: smut; this is set during Season 4, Episode 9 (52 Pickup) and there is a lot of references to the episode in this, but I think you could read this without having seen the episode; mentions of typically sexist practices - in the form of ‘pickup artistry’: the reader character replaces Jordan Todd on the team; there is an age gap between Emily and the reader - Emily is older and the reader character is younger; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mention of the reader wearing a dress and makeup; the reader has sexual fantasies about Emily - which include: pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, being called 'naughty girl’; most of the sex acts are in fantasies (this fic is mostly tension and build up and sexually adjacent situations rather than actual sex); masturbation (the reader masturbates); mentions of masturbation being unsatisfying or not feeling 'as good’ as having sex with the desired partner; caught masturbating - Emily walks in on the reader; Emily refers to herself as 'Mama’ (once); rough kissing, Emily gropes the reader through clothing, very light choking (from Emily toward the reader) (Emily puts her hand on the reader’s neck and applies pressure for a few seconds to get her attention), Emily calls the reader 'needy little thing’ (in this case the word 'little’ is meant to be condescending and not a description of size); undertones of degradation kink; I believe that is everything.

A/N: This was based on a request, and the original request mentioned fake dating (and I would love to do that trope with Emily), but I couldn’t stop thinking about how stunning and gorgeous Emily looks in this episode, and I thought it would be interesting to use it. Also the idea of a man basing his pickup techniques on women needing male validation when - hey, what kind of women wouldn’t want or need male validation? A woman who is obsessed with the other gorgeous woman at the table. It was such a fun scenario to write about. I definitely wanna write more Emily fics in the future.

...

At first, you really weren’t looking forward to it. 

Though it seemed fun in concept - having an excuse to dress up and go out to a club while on the job - Emily assured you that it was going to be miserable. 

The way Emily talked about the man - Viper. She almost made him sound worse than some of the confirmed killers you had dealt with during your short time at the BAU. She said that he was the scum of the earth, a waste of oxygen, that made her feel dirty just by giving her a weird look. She joked that she was ‘dragging you along’ because she didn’t want to suffer alone (that, and she needed backup, in case the guy truly was dangerous). 

From the way she talked about it, you thought the night was going to be miserable. 

You certainly didn’t expect it to be one of the best nights of your life. 

Viper frequented bars and nightclubs. So of course, nightclub appropriate attire was required. You rushed to a store and grabbed the first tight dress you could find (a red one with spaghetti straps that would pair well with a pair of modest black heels you already had in your bag for the job). You didn’t expect to come back and see Emily getting changed into a clingy black dress that fit her like sin, her makeup subtle but smokey. 

You had been actively suppressing your attraction to her, a gorgeous older woman, since you had joined the BAU a month ago. You told yourself that you could keep your lustful feelings under control because you would only be there temporarily, to replace their usual media liaison - who was on maternity leave. But seeing her dressed up like this, it certainly didn’t help with that suppression. 

Things only got worse when you got to the club and Viper descended upon the two of you. (You quietly whispered to Emily that his name should have been Vulture and the soft laughter she let out had your insides fluttering.) 

Turns out, Emily had been paying extra attention to the ‘push and pull’ technique that Reid had talked about. And even though you knew that it was just in the name of messing with the cocky man - you fell hook, line, and sinker for Emily’s combatants of this technique. 

See, rather than letting him push and pull the two of you - compliment one of you and leave the other one reeling for validation, Emily complimented you herself. She never let Viper leave room for you to need that validation. Not that you would ever need it from someone like him. But she certainly threw him off with this tactic. 

She supported you, focused far more of her attention on you than she did on him. The two of you never fell to the traditional ‘women in constant competition’ market that his techniques were built on. If she put far more of her focus on you and actively ignored him (or even not-so-subtly insulted him), then what could he do? 

Women not vying for his attention? It was a curveball for the ages. 

Clearly, he had no backup plan. He was struggling to keep up. 

If he called your dress cheap, Emily said how well the fabric complimented your amazing body. If he said your mascara was clumpy and poorly done, Emily said your eyes were naturally beautiful and shined bright without makeup anyway. 

The more annoyed it seemed to make him, the more she fawned over you. 

And it left you staring at her all night. Captivated by her beauty, her silky voice. You barely even knew that he was there as she laughed at him, engaged in his silly games, taunted him. 

By the time you left the club, you were almost high on the affection Emily had given you. 

The rest seemed to go by in a blur. The real killer was caught at a different club, and the team retired back to their hotel to get some rest before returning home. As you and Emily walked back to your shared room, you were still laughing and joking about the pathetic man who somehow made his living off of scamming men more pathetic than him. 

“And did - did you see the look on his face when I said ‘you probably go home alone, don’t you?’ - Like he - he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t falling for his BS,” Emily said, stuttering through her words as hardy laughter disrupted her speech. 

“It’s like he’s never met a confident woman in his life.” You replied, a delicate chuckle in your voice. 

It was a subtle compliment toward Emily, admiring her confidence in how well she had dealt with the scummy, overly cocky man. 

“No, not quite.” Emily sighed, using the keycard to open the hotel room door. 

Your insides fluttered even more when she held the door open for you. You couldn’t help but enjoy the domestic feeling behind it as you brushed past her body in order to get inside. 

Of course, she wasn’t even paying attention to the dreamy, starstruck look on your face as she continued speaking. 

“He’s never approached a confident woman before.” She quickly corrected, letting the door fall shut and click locked behind her. “He’s never approached a woman he thought he couldn’t con.” 

“And for some reason he dared you to ‘meet him on his turf’?” You questioned, repeating the words she had told you, when ranting about the previous interaction she had with the awful man. “You, of all people?” 

You had to wonder what about Emily Prentiss would come off as even slightly insecure or - what about her said that she would fall for his stupid tricks. In your opinion, it was like trying to outrun a cheetah using a tricycle. 

“Yeah, I guess he was counting on me being drunk and blinded by all his guyliner.” Emily joked, tossing her bag down onto one of the twin beds. 

You collapsed down onto the other bed with intense laughter. The joke itself was funny, but her delivery, her confidence, and her smile caused a spark through you that forced you to laugh off the tension before you jumped her bones. You had to be professional. You had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“I call the bathroom first.” She announced. “I really need a shower after being drowned in Drakkar Noir all night.” 

You had to ignore the dryness in your throat and the heat between your thighs at the thought of her in the shower. Previously, it was something your mind could have easily glossed over, but after she spent the night fawning over you and capturing your attention completely, it was like you were a horny teenager again. Now all you could think about was her completely naked, droplets of hot water rolling across her skin, surrounded by steam. 

You had to pull yourself together. You had to be professional, for fuck’s sake. 

“But of course.” You told her, giving a smile and a nod. You motioned toward the bathroom, as if presenting it to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’ll probably just shower in the morning.” 

Emily nodded in acknowledgement of this, and there was no further conversation. 

This left your mind reeling, your body entirely tense and hyper aware of her every movement as she got ready. You had to busy yourself with grabbing your pajamas out of your own bag - an oversized X-Files tee shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts - while she grabbed her toiletries bag and went into the bathroom. 

The water turned on and you tried your hardest not to think about her undressing and stepping under the stream as you changed into your pjs. You tried your hardest not to think about her tight, fit body relaxing under the steam. You tried your hardest not to think about soft bubbles rolling across her soft, pale skin. 

Clearly, you were failing. Failing not to think about her. Failing miserably when it came to suppressing your attraction for her. 

By the time you climbed into bed, there was a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You wanted so badly to simply roll over and go to sleep. You wanted to ignore it. But a very large part of you worried that if you didn’t ‘take care’ of that nagging arousal, then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if you didn’t sleep and you rolled into the next day with this attraction to Emily still at the forefront of your mind - then you wouldn’t be able to act normal around her for the travel day home tomorrow. You might say or do something stupid. 

You had to do something. 

The longer you laid there in bed, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, feeling your pussy throbbing between them - thinking about Emily’s head being trapped between your legs - the more it bothered you. 

You had some time while she was in the shower, right? You could be quick. Of course you could. And if you heard the water turn off, you would simply stop. 

Before any true logic could catch up between your ears, a hand was sneaking below the waistband of your shorts. That hand easily went inside your underwear and found a natural place on your throbbing clit. You dipped down into your wetness (leaking out of you abundantly from how much you had been thinking about Emily) and slicked up the hot button before you began rubbing it in hard circles. You were determined to cum quickly and be done with it. 

You closed your eyes and tiled your head back against the pillow, your mind drifting back to her once again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she looked in that ruby lipstick. All night, you had felt jealous of the glass when she brought her drink up to her lips. 

You imagined her approaching you at a bar. 

You would be out by yourself, and she would see you from across the room. So entirely confident, she would see you and in a moment, know that she could have you. 

She would come up behind you, whisper sweetly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked. She would smirk at your initial shyness when you giggled at the compliment. She would tell you that she couldn’t wait to get you home - that she wanted you and she wanted you now. 

So she would pull you into a bathroom, pinning you against a counter. And then she would shove her hand under your dress, only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties, just for her. She would scold you, call you a naughty girl. Her voice so sweet and condescending, only making you wetter. And then she would shove her fingers into your slick cunt and shove her other hand over your mouth, trying in vain to keep your whorish moans from being heard as you begged for her. 

“Emily, please,” You couldn’t stop the faint, needy moan that escaped you as you got lost in the fantasy. 

Of course, so lost in it, that you didn’t hear the shower turning off. 

Your pussy ached, leaking freely into your underwear, and your clit throbbed, emanating a needy pain out through your pelvis. You worked your fingers in more frantic circles, doubling down. Your hips canted up off the bed, knocking the covers off you slightly as dull pleasure radiated out across your hips. 

(Dull compared to what Emily would have given you, you were sure.) 

Even if it was unsatisfactory, you were close. 

“Emily-!” You cried out desperately, right on the edge of orgasm. 

“Hey, do you have some makeup remover I can borrow? I forgot-” 

Shock cascaded through your system and you instantly stilled your movements. This caused your orgasm to become a low hum in your pelvis once again as your eyes shot open in disbelief. 

Your gaze locked onto Emily where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Your insides were still with shock - embarrassment or any other emotion hadn’t even caught up yet. 

Steam ploomed around her and she was forced to hold up the hotel towel with one hand as it couldn’t fully wrap around her body, leaving a sliver of her skin exposed from her armpit to her knee - the curve of her breast, her waist, and her hip on full display. With her hair soaked and her bangs slicked back from her face, and true to what she had said, her makeup still on but slightly smudged from the shower - she looked utterly delicious. 

She was like a pornographic dream, live in front of you. 

You let out a quiet whimper at the sight. 

It was only then that your brain began to unfreeze from the shock, and you realized how truly incriminating you looked. The covers pooled around your thighs, your hand quite visibly inside your shorts, your face contorted with pleasure as your eyes scanned over her half naked body. You rushed to rip your hand out of your underwear - and you realized the sight wasn’t much better as your fingers glistened in the light. 

Emily’s eyes moved from your glistening fingers to your stiff, nervous body, your thighs still parted (as it would be too uncomfortable to clamp them down on your wet underwear and aching cunt). She smirked at you. She looked at you with the same devious, cocky expression that Viper had started out the night with - before she had taken him down notch by notch. 

The look alone caused any apology to be stuck in your throat. You waited for her to speak before you made any moves. 

“What were you thinking about?” She asked, her voice breathy, soft, yet entirely commanding. 

In that moment, caught in the smoldering gate of her eyes, you could find nothing but honesty pounding inside of your chest. 

“You.” You whined quietly. 

Emily chuckled gently. 

Your stomach twisted with embarrassment for the split second that you thought she might be laughing at you. But then you realized that it was, in fact, a sound of satisfaction. 

That realization hit you when she dropped the towel completely. She stood in front of you proudly, showing off all of her naked, wet glory. Her dark nipples pebbling in the air, the damp sheen of water making her skin glow like a dewy goddess. Quite obviously, she wanted you to look.

Your eyes traced a few thick droplets of water as they escaped her hair and ran down her body. You became absolutely mesmerized by the way gravity pulled the water over her collarbones, the teardrop curve of her breasts, the plushness of her stomach, across her pelvis, down her thighs. You imagined yourself tracing over those exact lines with your tongue. 

“Come to me.” 

Her silken voice snapped you out of your trance. Your eyes shot back up to her face once again, and in the sluggish moment that it took the words to get to your brain, she added something onto the command that absolutely knocked the wind out of you. 

“Come on. Come to Mama.” 

Her calling herself that name, so self assured, so certain - the phrase almost had you down on all fours, crawling to her like a dog. 

But instead, you scrambled to get upright and practically ran across the room to her on shaking legs. Entirely eager, you stood in front of her and leaned in to press your mouth against hers. Naturally, you expected that the interaction would start with a kiss. 

But she quickly reached up and stopped you with a hand on the side of your neck. You let out a harsh whimper of disappointment - one that quickly turned into a moan when she pressed her thumb into your windpipe with just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy. 

She was showing you who was in charge. 

“Not so fast,” She told you, her breath cascading against your lips now. 

Although she was completely naked and you were clothed, it was very apparent that she was the one in complete control. 

“Tell me how badly you want it.” She ordered, her voice low and almost gentle - a soft domineering that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up straight. 

“I want it so badly,” You easily replied, your voice intensely needy. “I need it. I need you, Em.” 

Emily reached up with her other hand and - with no warning - harshly gripped your pussy through your underwear and shorts. This caused sharp shocks of arousal to flow through you, making you moan out weakly. It was a dizzying euphoria that had you bucking into her hand. You almost came from that single touch alone. 

“Needy little thing.” She purred. “I am gonna have so much fun with you.” 

This was her last verbal sentiment before she pulled you forward by that hand on your neck and silenced any further moans with a bruising kiss.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoyed the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written here. And if you like my writing style, please check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists for other fandoms.

[minhosimthings]

Heaven

Symphony Smut Series Day 7: Julia Michaels' Heaven

Lyric: They say all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you

Pairings: Badboy!Jeongin × goodgirl!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, sub!reader, dom!Jeongin, p in v sex, degradation, praise, hair pulling, overstimulation, corruption kink, Jeongin calls reader 'darling' and good girl, reader wears skirt, mentions of masturbation, implied abused reader, fluffy at the end, sorta enemies to lovers, college au

A/N: I mean I couldn't not include this iconic song in this series so did it for day 7 with our Innie because I don't know corruption kink just hits different with him.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

People pleasing. Wasn't it so fun? To have a person complement you for something that you was poison to yourself.

But people pleasing always got out of hand one way or the other and now, here you were, crying to your worst enemy about how much you felt like not existing anymore.

Jeongin was completely antagonistic to you. It was much like the bad boy, good nerd trope, except this time, you liked the bad boy first and he basically hated you. Romantic right?

"So wait, what you're telling me is you willingly let yourself be used by other people and you get nothing out of it?" Jeongin questioned, looking you up and down, his eyes filled with what seemed to be pity. It was as if you were a wounded dog, who still trusted so foolishly.

"I know." You tried to fight back. Having him as a chemistry partner suddenly seemed okay. Now, his aura was one of comfort as he ran a hand down your back in circles, comforting you as the tears you've held onto for so long started falling down.

"Hey hey hey." Jeongin panicked, seeing you cry. It had been the first time he'd seen you do that. In everyone's eyes you were little Miss Perfect, unbreakable and able to endure a lot of pressure. But diamonds crack someday don't they? And when they are subjected to enough heat, or in your case, enough comfort, they crack with a lot of force.

"I'm here, I'm here don't worry." Jeongin pressed you to his chest, engulfing you in warmth. The hug felt genuine, something you hadn't known for a long time.

"I-Just can't Jeongin, I just don't want to do it anymore." You gasped, tired from all the crying.

"Calm down darling, we still got all these dumb carbon atoms to balance!" Jeongin tries to cheer you up, successfully earning a giggle from you.

"There we go." Jeongin pulled you back to wipe your tears, "Now shall we work on this project, or should we work on how to set your boundaries?"

"But how do I do that?" You asked, listening intently to him, "How the fuck do I give up this stupid habit of mine which people have been praising me for so long?"

"Let's practice then!" Jeongin said in a cherry voice, immediately shutting his book close, "Let's say.... I'm someone who wants you to help me out with my homework, but in reality, you're gonna do all my homework. What do you say?"

"Yes..?" "No Y/N." Jeongin sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead, "You say no, cause you're not gonna help some dickhead complete his work when he's the one who needs to do it."

"Alright another scenario, what if... Your best friend wants you to come to a party with her just so you can play her wing woman, what do you say?"

"No, cause she needs to get her pussy inside some dick?" Your uncertain answer made Jeongin's face light up.

"Yeah good job! You're getting the point!"

After some more scenarios, in which much laughter was involved and your chemistry book lay depressed by the side, you got to know a lot more about Jeongin. Beneath all that dark leather jacket aesthetic, he really was an adorable little fox who apparently really liked fashion.

"Alright alright last scenario." Jeongin laughed after you told him the story of your childhood cat, Potato, "And this is important for you, as a woman."

"As a woman? Alright then." You said, still laughing.

"If a man ever asked to fuck you for his own pleasure, would you let him?"

"I mean unless it's you, no."

The silence that filled the room was unnerving, deadly almost. Jeongin stared at you, and you stared back.

"You want to do what to me now?" Jeongin smirked, adjusting his posture, which made him look slightly bigger.

"I-I didn't mean-"

"What didn't you mean, darling?"

His voice never failed to make you wet. And yet you didn't have your vibrator with you right now.

"I mean it's not like I want to fuck you, I mean I do! But I-"

"You're so adorable." Jeongin chuckled, leaning back against the bedframe, spreading his legs a bit further. You could clearly see his erection pulsing through the fabric of his pants, "Does my good girl need dick in her pants?"

Good girl.

One simple nickname and you wanted to be devoured by him, carnally, brutally as he could.

"Fuck me then." You stated, not breaking eye contact with his beautiful eyes, "Fuck me and show me how it feels to break the rules for one time."

"If you say so." Jeongin chuckled, placing his hands on your hips and leaning in close. Your noses almost touched and you could feel his fingers tightening around the fabric of your skirt.

He stared at you hungrily and took in your figure which was clothed in a normal shirt and your skirt, his eyes flicked down to your chest.

Jeongin passionately pulled you in for an open-mouthed kiss, you were taken by surprise and put your hands against his chest, to pull back slightly, but Jeongin held you possessively and deepened the kiss to taste your tongue with his tongue.

He broke the kiss with a chuckle and playfully pushed you back onto your pillow, he peppered your neck with kisses and warm sucks.

"Ah fuck Jeongin." You whimpered, feeling his bulge press against your pussy. He hadn't even done anything and yet the simple gestures turned you on like a sinner in church.

"Already darling?" Jeongin chuckles again, feeling positively elated at how innocent you were, "It's alright we'll take it slow."

Jeongin rests his hands on your hips more tighter and lays you on the bed, taking in your sweet perfume. "Your roomate isn't home is she?" Jeongin asked, wigh uncertainty, his fingers toying with the waistband of your skirt. You simply nodded no, too distracted by the impact his fingers had on your waist.

"Good." Jeongin ripped off your skirt with one tug of his skirt, making you gasp loudly, "Then this'll be easier."

He cups your tits and let’s out a deep groan. You move to grab at his shirt and pause, nodding a question at him. He nods back at you and his godly chest is revealed. You then move to grab at his belt buckle and after that your clothes get removed pretty quickly.

He leaned down, kissing along your chest and the swells of your breasts. His teeth nipped at your skin, biting down hard enough to leave hickeys behind.

Jeongin chuckled at your reaction. He lightly rolled your nipple in between his metal thumb and index finger. You gasped loudly when his fingers pinched your nipple, sending a new sensation through your body. Both of his hands went down to your sleep shorts and pulled them down your legs, exposing your wet lacy panties to him. His fingers on his right hand rubbed your clit through your panties causing you to buck your hips against his hand, only for you to receive a smack on your inner thigh.

You squealed in surprise when he pinned you to the bed. He spread your legs, getting in between them. He rubbed his cock through your wetness before lining his tip up with your entrance. His tip alone stretched your pussy. He sinks his cock inside of you inch by inch. Your jaw dropped.

"Ah-ah big." You moaned, feeling him sink into you. You had never felt pleasure like this before. And you sure as hell loved it.

"Is that okay, darling?" Jeongin asked, raising a brow at you. He didn't want to hurt you or do anything that was out of his boundaries. But oh, did he love this.

“So fucking tight.” Jeongin groans, tilting his head back. Fuck, if only he had had this pussy before.

He whines and buries his head in your neck, alternating motions on your very stimulated clit, acting like he’s the one about to completely fall apart.

Once he was deep inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust. You nodded your head, giving him permission to start thrusting. He starts thrusting pretty slowly, probably wanting to make sure you’re getting used to it, but his hand in your hair shows you that things aren’t going to be so tame for long. He pulled his cock almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you and then thrusted back inside of you all at once.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, trying your best not to be loud.

“Such a little slut.” Jeongin says, amused that someone like you, someone so pure, could be like this.

His thrusts got more rough. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. His tip hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and squeezed it every time he hit that spot.

He doesn’t need another invitation, and you realize immediately he is not going to hold back as he grabs your hips with more force than before and slams inside you. His balls hit your clit over and over again, and you moan even louder, tilting your head so he can get the hint you want him to pull your hair. But he ignores it.

"Who knew a good little girl like you could be such a slut eh?" Jeongin whispers in your ear, making your cunt itch for him even more.

You whimpered in response. You slid your hand down to your clit and started to rub it in fast circles. Jeongin noticed and smacked your hand away, making you whimper.

Your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm build up a second time.

“Jeongin, I’m— mhmm fuck!” You moaned, not being able to finish your sentence.

“Cum for me, darling.” Jeongin whispers in your ear, "Like the good girl you are."

His fingers gave your now sensitive clit a particular rough rub to help you chase your high. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than ever before. Jeongin’s thrusts became sloppy, feeling his orgasm approaching him.

You’re screaming before he can even finish as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced takes over your body. It’s a blinding pleasure you can feel everywhere: from your pussy to your head and even fingers. And the way he keeps thrusting in and out of you at the same speed prolongs it.

Jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. His hand left your throat and went to the back of your head, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. He pulled away and looked into your eyes for a few seconds before pulling out of you. He laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

"Oh fucking hell." He lets out a breathy chuckle, "That was fun wasn't it?"

"Thank you Jeongin." You pant, still not being able to understand that you just lost your virginity.

"No problem darling." Jeongin whispers, "Good little girls like you deserve the best heaven they can get."

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged send an ask my way!

[cripplecharacters]

hi there, i really appreciate this blog! i was wondering if you had any advice when it comes to writing characters who use mobility aids (manual wheelchair and cane) and things that are like, pet peeves or cringey to see written? other than the big ones like “wheelchair bound” or having people just grab their chair or otherwise be disrespectful. i’m thinking more “little things that make it seem like the author is clueless” lol. thank you!

Hey!

You can check out our main #mobility aids or #wheelchairs or #canes tags for the general info. If you have a more specific question, feel free to send another ask.

I will talk about my own cane pet peeves because there's definitely some:

The most glaring, obvious, painfully clueless thing I have somehow seen multiple times is when the writer/artist doesn't understand the difference between a mobility cane and a white cane. Usually in the form of giving their blind character the same kind of stick I use for my mobility issues. Of course, a person could need both for different disabilities. That very much happens. However, it's absolutely never the case in this kind of scenario. This one is an example of a lack of basic research so bad that it circles back to being kinda funny.

The writer not knowing which side the cane would go on for the character. Obviously, in real life, there's a whole lot of hyper-specific scenarios why someone could use it the "wrong" way and why it would work for them specifically, some users can also use either hand for the cane; it all depends on why they use it. The problem that I have is when the writer doesn't have a single clue about any of it and just gives their character with a bad knee and nothing else the cane on the same side. Again, shows lack of basic research.

As a certified knob cane hater, I can't just not talk about them here. They're so bad. So non-functional. Don't serve their function as a mobility device because they literally aren't one. That's a fashion accessory. Unless your character has a wrist of steel and doesn't mind that the aid meant to help with stability does the exact opposite, I guess.

I know a bunch of people will disagree with me, but I think the whole sword cane thing sucks. Sorry. The only time I don't roll my eyes on this one is when the writer is also a cane user. I always felt like it checked out two tropes that I hate, the "abled character pretends to be disabled and is actually dangerous" and the "abled writer thinks mobility aids are boring and has to stick a gun in them to justify their existence".

The cane that somehow makes the user non-disabled. Sounds contradictory, I know. I mean the kind of scenario where the character is Weak and Frail but then they get the cane and are suddenly just fighting, running, jumping, whatever. Did the author forget what the cane is used for? Obviously it will depend on the character's disability how much the cane mitigates symptoms, but this writing choice always feels bizarre to me. My cane is here so that I'm not in as much pain or to help my gait disorder, it certainly doesn't turn me into an abled man who just happens to have a stick in hand.

All these tired old person or similar jokes/comparisons are probably not that funny. We get it, older people use canes. It's not even cringy or whatever, it's just so unbelievably boring it's hard to react to it with anything else than an eye roll anymore.

Apologies for the extremely late reply. I hope it helps,

mod Sasza

[kazuhahalol]

Hey queen, I was wondering if you could write some more Kurapika headcannons? It could be about anything!! Thanks you so much if you do!!⭐️✨⭐️

▹ Kurapika General Headcanons P.2 ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

thank you so much for requesting (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ! I’m sorry if these headcanons aren’t as good as the previous ones. I was a bit messy today.

warnings: none

Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!

❥ The poor boy is sleep deprived. With the pressure of avenging the Phantom Troupe, alongside the haunting memories and nightmares of his clan, he barely gets any rest.

❥ Does not trust easily. Young and rather naive in season one, he made good friends with Killua, Gon, and Leorio. In the succession arc, he seems a lot more vigilant. It took him a good month or two for him to become comfortable around you.

❥ Natural born leader.

❥ Often has an identity crisis. Sometimes he’ll dwell on what’ll happen to him after he kills the Phantom Troupe. Not if, he knows he’s going to kill them. He doesn’t know if he himself will die, or if he will have no reason to live after that, and it frightens him deep inside knowing he’s truly lost himself.

❥ Cannot cook for shit. In 1999, he literally rolled a live fish in some rice and called it dinner. He probably lives off of some granola bar he found on the black whale. I feel like he was eating better under Izunavi’s care, but now that he’s all alone, he’s probably not taking care of himself.

❥ Often feels guilty for the bonds he creates. He first started to feel it when Gon and Killua got caught in the Yorknew arc. He noticed that he’s doing pretty much nothing for his friends but get them in trouble, thus ignoring Leorio’s calls when Gon was in the hospital, not wanting them to get hurt again.

❥ Even though I said he was touch starved in my other post, I feel like he’s not the biggest fan of affection. He hasn’t felt it in years and may not be used to the feeling of someone’s hands on him, as he was caught off guard in the group photo in season one.

❥ Even though vengeance is the only thing on his mind, Kurapika has stated he will never stand with immoral acts. He has a wavering moral compass. His goal is to kill the Phantom Troupe and the Phantom Troupe only. He would never kill an innocent person, meaning he would not be a Yandere for you. (I know, I know, I like that trope too.)

❥ Refuses to look at himself in the mirror.

❥ He’s one of those people that hide their real laugh. He only has 25 seconds of screen time of him smiling, so we don’t hear him laugh often, but I bet your bottom dollar if you make him laugh enough on a good day, he’ll show you how he really laughs. In public, he may just give you a quiet chuckle or a smile.

❥ Holds grudges. I think this one’s pretty obvious. If you do something that annoys him, he’ll remember it and bring it up next time it’s convenient. He’s been deprived of social contact for 5 whole years, so he may not realize he’s being rude or toxic at times.

❥ Whenever there’s a family nearby, he stares enviously and wonders what life would be like if his family were still alive.

❥ Sees Pairo whenever he looks at Gon.

❥ Doesn’t really want kids nor is he in a mental state to have any. Once Kurapika kills the troupe, he’s certain he does not have that long left to live. He’ll wonder what it’s like to have a family of his own, but knows it’s not possible. He’d rather live on a secluded farm by himself or with the love of his life before he goes.

❥ Knows he needs help but will not ask for it. He knows this is something he must do alone.

❥ His ideal type would be someone understanding and patient. Physical attributes do not matter to him. What matters is someone who’s willing to stay with him through the trials life has given him.

❥ Liked Yahtzee as a kid.

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 7

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, use of weapons, violence, transit of a criminal/bailing out a criminal, bombs/usage of bombs, explosions, mentions of torture, men not accepting no as an answer (nothing violent or intense, just a brief scene), gun use, arguing, fighting, angst, slight soft moments (if you squint really hard), mentions of troubled past, money from illegal jobs, mentions of stealing, (Lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 7.5K

Summary: Black Mask sends you to escort his VIP client safely back to Sionis Industries, ensuring you understand that his life is worth more than your own. But when an explosion is caused courtesy of Red Hood, you have to find another way to get him safely to Sionis Industries or die trying. Red Hood just can't seem to stay out of the way.... or out of your apartment.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 6 || Chapter 8

Flashback

You paced around the roof, letting yourself bask in your thoughts as you waited for Robin to arrive for the night. You needed his help, you felt yourself doubt everything you had going on at the moment and you needed him to help you. “Hey,”, you turned at the sound of his voice, taking in his outfit. He wore his signature sunglasses along with some sweats and an oversized hoodie. It wasn’t too chilly tonight, but you knew it would get colder since it was only getting later in the night. The temperature always cooled down a lot more at night.

“Hey.”, you felt a clog in your throat, trying to ignore the lump as you looked at him with a smile. “How are you?”

“Good. I mean, a little tired but overall, good.”, he smiled at you, a hand touching yours slightly. The warmth of his hand made you melt at his touch. You wondered how he always ran hot even when it was cold. “What about you?”

You raised your eyebrows slightly before turning back down to the openness of the city, watching the cars as they drove by at the late hours of the night.

“I’m okay, just… torn?”, you muttered.

“Torn between what?”, he raised an eyebrow at you, watching you and waiting patiently for your answer. 

“The family, they want me to decide on whether I should stay at Gotham Academy, which I do since it’s close to home or move me to a different school across the city that has better benefits for them business wise. The investors are part of their business, so it’ll look good for them. In the end, they want me to decide.”, you paused. “I don’t want to leave Gotham Academy. As much as the people suck, they have good resources for me to read, visit different galleries, libraries, and it’s not so bad.”

Robin looked at you intently, letting you get all your words out as he too tried to contemplate what decision you should make. 

“If I move to another school, it’ll be like starting completely over. I don't know anyone, it’s more of a school for students who want to go into taking over their family business, that type of thing. It’s not at the same caliber as Gotham Academy, but it’s a good prep school for those who choose to go to Ivy Leagues.”

Robin could hear in your voice the doubt you had, you didn’t want to leave the academy, and deep down he didn’t want you to either. It was selfish of him, but he needed to focus on what you wanted, not what he did. 

“I think you should do whichever will make you happy, Y/n.”, Robin’s voice was soft, his body relaxed as he looked out at the street with you. “If you like Gotham Academy, you should stay. You like that they give you resources to let you do different things you like, they also have a higher success rate than any other school in the city by far. If the family really wants to give up your happiness for their own selfish needs, then they need to reevaluate their priorities.”

You stared at him, his voice never faltering as he spoke. 

“You should never deny yourself of the things that make you happy.”

Your eyes softened at his words, letting them sink in as you tried to weigh the pros and cons of both situations. You felt a warmth at his words, making you feel seen in your conflict. He was right. If you wanted to be happy, you would do whatever you needed to do just that regardless of what the family expected of you. They needed to understand. 

You smiled at Robin, leaning into him as the both of you sat on the ledge, letting the silence fall over both of you as you enjoyed the quiet of the night and each other's company. 

You should never deny yourself of the things that make you happy. 

“I need you motherfuckers to focus! I am not spending hundreds of thousands of dollars in this for you all to fuck it up!”, Sionis yelled at his men while your glance remained neutral. He bored you with this tough guy act. Although he was a menace, he was nothing compared to the client you had tonight. 

You had read over the file, checked every possible way that could result in his capture, and ensured that tonight would go smoothly. This served as the perfect distraction from the past weekend's events. 

Your eyes looked up at Sionis as he towered over you, his eyes boring into your bored ones as he remained silent. He was better that way. Silent. But you could only dream. 

“You won’t let our VIP get in harm's way, right sweetheart?”, his voice dripped with his taunt, your body inwardly recoiling at his use of the pet name. There was only one person who could make calling you ‘sweetheart’ sound like fire in your veins and he was currently up to his own business elsewhere. "He comes back to me alive, even if it means you don't".

You narrowed your eyes, watching Sionis as he kept pacing the room, your thoughts moving from the mission to a certain green eyed man.

You hadn’t spoken to him in days, wondering why he’d gone radio silent and still hadn’t given you your half of the money. Irritation burned in your skin but for some reason you allowed him time. After your timeframe ended you’d personally seek him out and actually feed his teeth to him for making you waste your time. 

“Alright. You guys have two hours to get him and come back to Sionis Industries.”, Black Mask moved towards this desk, sitting and swiveling as his men filed out the doors you followed closely behind. The three black cars were parked outside, all decked in bulletproof tinted black glass, not allowing anyone to look inside. It was for everyone’s security, not just the VIP. 

You opened the back door to the middle car, sliding in as the men divided into the front and back vehicles. You were to ride with the VIP to ensure the greatest level of safety. You might be under constant scrutiny by Sionis but he couldn’t deny you were the best card Penguin had in his hand. 

You placed your chin in your hand, looking out the window as you watched the lights of the city pass by as you went into the outskirts to reach Arkham. You didn’t realize just how creepy the drive was until you actually went through the roads late at night. It was quiet, almost like a horror movie, just waiting for the climax to happen and something would jump out at you. You rolled your eyes at the thought. You’d see far worse things in the underground than a few jump scares. 

After 20 minutes, the gates to the entrance of the building opened, the road leading down a straight pathway that went further towards the massive building. It gave a very dark, gothic feel but still with some touch of modernity. 

You kept watch as the cars made their way towards the back of the building, almost like the front entrance was just a decoy for decoration. Once the cars had parked, they sat for a moment, no one moving to get out. The seconds ticked by eerily, leaving a cold sensation in the atmosphere as the night seemed to get darker. 

You perked up at the sight of four guards opening the front door, a Warden stepping out with a file, and two more men holding your VIP. 7 people just for one person, for anyone else it would’ve seemed extreme but this was a psychopath you were dealing with. You stepped out of the vehicle, walking up the steps as you made eye contact with the Warden, before shaking their hand. 

“Good… Night, Warden.”, you dragged out, but regained your composure shortly after. “Is this his file?”

“It has everything you need to know. Birth records, background checks, aliases, known contacts, extended known contacts, his network of allies and their allies, and finally”, he pulled out a massive file almost the size of a dictionary. “His criminal records and psychological evaluations”

You grabbed the two stacks he had handed out, carrying them for safe keeping. You were unsure why Penguin and Sionis wanted copies of his full record but you wondered if it was so they could have contacts with his ties. You knew it would just rot away in the back of a cabinet or something. 

“Your VIP”, your eyes watching as the men forced your guest forward, a slight series of giggles erupting from under the bath he wore over his head. You took note of the straight jacket and the cuffs on his feet, mentally preparing for finally meeting the man in person for the first time. 

“In the car. Middle one.”, you motioned as they opened the door and shoved him inside, the maniacal laughing filling the inside of the car as you watched two of your men hop in with him. “Thanks for the delivery.”

“And good luck to you. You’re going to need it with that maniac”, he muttered before he walked inside with the six guards following him. A chill ran down your spine as you walked back to the car, motioning for the front car to head back to Sionis Industries. 

Opening the car door and sliding it, you placed the stack of papers next to you, a sudden shaking of the car as you turned your head, your heart dropping in your chest. 

The fucking maniac was staring at you, his face only inches from yours. You kept your usual poker face but your heart rate was skyrocketing, his proximity and the cynical look in his face making you uneasy. 

“Aren’t you a pretty girl”, he muttered, a laugh escaping his red painting lips. “I wonder what you’d look like with a big smile”, his voice sent chills down your spine. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as he let out a maniacal laughter, letting himself fall back into his seat as he tried to wiggle his arms out of the straight jacket. 

“Oh you’re not fun. Loosen up, or you’ll make this entire game boring”, his voice rang out as the smile stayed etched on his face. 

“I’m not here to play games. I’m here as an escort.”, you replied flatly. “You know why there's so many of us here for you, so I suggest you stay still until we arrive at Sionis Industries.”

“Ah, yes. I am what you are calling your…. VIP”, he hinted at the use of finger quotes as he turned to look at one of the guards, Sionis’ men trained for any possible situation, even dealing with the maniac.

“We’re 20 minutes out.”, one of the men in the front called out before rolling the partition back up and continuing through the streets. You forced yourself to look away, not being able to stomach being so close to one of the worst criminals within the city. He was dangerous, psychotic, killed for fun, and had absolutely no sense of control. He was sadistic and plain narcissistic, it was blood chilling just how little remorse and empathy someone could have. You wondered if this was the closest you’d get to him before Sionis took him off your hands and you could go back to just continuing work with Penguin. 

A sudden heat surrounded you, the abrupt halt of the car throwing your body forward and the sound of an explosion ringing out as you watched the two men next to Joker sit up and pull out their guns. You rolled down the partition, moving forward to force the madman to the ground. 

“What the hell is going on?”, you yelled out. 

“The other car, it had a bomb in it!”, you heard the driver yell back, looking through the windshield and seeing the other car laying in flames on the road. Your eyes widened, someone was trying to make a hit on Joker. 

“You guys stay with him! I’ll go deal with whoever the hell this is.”, you pushed the door open, jumping onto the car and looking up at the buildings. You couldn’t see anything from down here, you needed to move up. You jumped off, running to the driver and telling him to keep going. “Take the back route if you need to, I’ll deal with this.”, you said as you ran towards the buildings and pulled yourself up through the ladder on the side of one of the buildings before reaching the roof. You skimmed the road below, running to jump between the buildings and keeping up with the car below. 

You felt the wind on your face, trying to keep up as you felt the oxygen burn in your lungs, suddenly hearing another explosion a few meters ahead of the car.

Bingo. 

You jumped between the buildings, seeing the figure running through the streets as you tried to catch them. They could not ruin this operation. It was no secret that news of Joker’s release had made waves in the underground, everyone ready to make their hits necessary to get rid of the mad clown. 

The gap between you and the figure closed, only a few buildings behind as you jumped over another ledge to reach them. Your eyes narrowed as they came to a sudden stop, looking to see that the buildings ended and created a huge gap between the street and the next building across the way. 

“Hey asshole”, you yelled, pulling out your gun and aiming it at the back of their head once you got close enough. You were hoping for an easy night, but anything having to do with Joker would never be easy. 

“Hey Sweetheart”, you felt your heart drop in your chest as they turned around. Fucking hell.. 

“Ja- Red.”, you bit out. “Why are you here?!”

You watched as he raised his hands, pressing a button on the side of his helmet and removing the red helmet. His dark hair was messy, sticking to his forehead slightly from the sweat and his eyes covered in a domino mask. Your eyes soaked him in, admitting he looked devastating in his suit now that you knew what his real face looked like.

“Nice to see you too, Y/n.”, he smirked, his body moving closer to yours. 

“Why are you here?”, you repeated, your eyes meeting him as you tried to keep your composure. You hadn’t seen him since the night of the Gala, since that night in your apartment, since he…

“You have something I want”, he motioned towards the black car. “So I’d thought I’d steal it from you”

You felt a slight irritation in your bones at why he was here. Was this the job he needed to complete that he always brought up? What business did he have with Joker? He couldn’t possibly have ties to the maniac. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”, you bit out, dropping your gun and placing it back in the holster. You watched as the sockets of his mask moved, most likely taking in the way you were dressed. It was a regular stealth suit, but he indulged in soaking you in any chance he could.

“As much as I would love to stay and spend more time with you, I have a job to finish.”, he walked over to the ledge, opening a hidden compartment and taking out his AK-47 and leaning it against his shoulder, the barrel pointed upwards as he walked towards you. 

“Red!”, you tried yelling at him, but your words died in your mouth as he grabbed your waist and slammed his lips on yours. Your eyes were wide as he kissed you in a deep, passionate way before quickly pulling away and smirking at you. 

“It was good seeing you tonight.”, he whispered before running off and jumping off the ledge. Your heart lurched in your chest, trying to run after him but felt a weight on your foot. The mother fucker put an adhesive pellet on your foot, forcing you to stay in one place. 

Dammit!

You pulled your foot from the adhesive with all your force, the substance settling in and making it harder to move. You grabbed your knife, cutting through the adhesive and pulling your foot one more time before it broke free. 

You ran through the streets, trying to find where Jason had run off to. Why did he have to show up tonight? You had one thing to do and now you would have to hear all the shit spew from Sionis if you couldn’t get Joker back in one piece. 

You quickly made your way towards where the tracker in the car had led you, showing you its movement as you cut through some of the buildings to get there sooner. If you couldn’t reach the car before it arrived at Sionis Industries, you hoped Jason might’ve been left behind somewhere. He probably was already close to getting another hit in before the car made it to its location but you needed to stay persistent. 

Reaching the car’s location, you jumped down, using the buildings to use your grappling hook to lower yourself safely before running towards the car as you watched it slow to a stopping position. Your eyes narrowed as you moved closer to it, never letting your guard down as you moved towards the car carefully. 

You watched the fire surround it as you approached carefully, taking in the rubble around the vehicle as you pulled the door open as your heart pounded in your chest. A soft grumble echoed from inside the car, your body on edge as you spotted the green color of hair, a subtly laugh ringing out. 

“Oh you came to save me! I love a good heroine story, it’s much more fun than those stupid knights in shining armor or whatever.”, you let out a sharp ‘tsk’ as you grabbed his arm, forcing him to his feet as you pulled him out of the car. 

“I don’t have time for your shit, clown face.”, you spit out, as you moved through the streets to find cover. “Let’s get to the alley by Gotham Square, I have a bike stashed there and I can get us to Sionis Industries.”

“This is fun.”, he laughed maniacally. 

You kept observing every inch of the street, trying to see if you could spot Jason within the buildings. You knew he wouldn’t make a hit at you, but if he really wanted to, he’d do anything necessary to take a hit at Joker. Any criminal in the underground would. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder if Jason had a deeper reason for getting at Joker or if it was solely to piss off Sionis. 

You moved through the streets quickly, keeping your guard up as you held Joker’s arm in one hand behind you and your pistol in the other. You were only three blocks away from where your motorcycle was stashed, you just needed to hurry before another explosive went off. You messed with your watch, taking note of the message you received from the third car holding the last of the men. They were on foot trying to get Red Hood stalled so that you could get Joker back safely. You had an opening and you needed to take it before he came back. 

The silence felt eerie, but you knew that would be the opening he needed to make an attack. Every second seemed to drag on, every step you made felt like an eternity as you navigated carefully through the streets. The city felt like it held its breath due to the silence, anticipating whoever made the next move to cause more chaos. 

You glanced back at Joker, his eyes full of humor and madness, the instability in him causing you a level of discomfort you couldn’t unpack right now. Not when your job was to get him back to Sionis in one piece and alive. You couldn’t lose focus on the objective, no matter how much Jason was making you on edge. He truly should have just stayed out of your business tonight. Just this once. 

A loud explosion rang out behind the both of you as you tugged Joker to his feet and threw him into a running pace so you could get the hell out of this shit show. You were a block away, running through and keeping your eyes peeled. Deep down you knew Jason wouldn’t make a hit but you knew he’d try and make it as believable as possible to make it look like you weren’t just partners with your enemy the week before. 

“C’mon, my bike is just right down that alley.”, you heard him laughing as you tried to tune him out. 

“Oh good, I was starting to get bored”

You ran down the dark walls of the alley, pulling the tarp off your bike as you grabbed the bullet proof vest and shoved it over his head, your helmet strapping around his chin as you turned the bike on and revved the engine as you kicked the stand us sped down the streets. The tires screeched as you gained momentum and turned sharp corners, staying focused on getting to Sionis Industries as quickly as possible. 

“You think the Hood is gonna come back?”

“Don’t worry about Red Hood.”, you bit out as the wind made your eyes slightly blurry as you blinked away the tears forced by the wind. “My objective is get you back to Sionis Industries alive, even if it means I don’t.”

What a cruel way to look at it but it was the truth of your situation. You’d have to give your life for some mad man clown who was like a roach: even if you burned them alive, they just won’t die. 

 The streets seemed quiet after leaving the center of the city, everything passed in a blur as you sped down the streets. Even Joker remained silent until you arrived and forced him off the bike. He might’ve been Sionis’ VIP but he wasn’t yours. 

You led him into the building, pressing the elevator button that went straight to Sionis’ office. You kept the bulletproof vest on him, especially knowing Jason would probably try and shoot him through the window. Although Sionis was careful and had bulletproof glasses on his vehicles and home, he didn’t have them on his building. A dumb okay on his part but it would always be an inside thought you’d keep to yourself. 

The doors rang open, the bulk of security at the main entrance as they opened the door. You forced Joker behind you as he stayed close, you could practically hear his smile and the laughs he held back as he skimmed around the room, making eye contact with one of the guards who kept a straight face. Joker was strange to say the least, more creepy and maniacal than anything, everyone knew him as the worst of Gotham’s criminals. Perhaps the most reputable in terms of causing psychological terror in the city. 

The silence filled the room, the guards waiting for the arrival of Sionis as they stood tall and quiet. You were annoyed. You wanted to go home and forget about this stupid mission. As the door clicked open, your head snapped up, your eyes narrowed as you watched the black masked mother fucker walk through the door. His eyes landed on you, taking in your annoyed appearance as he smirked. He kept you here waiting to mess with you and it made you want to shove your gun down his throat and pull the trigger. 

“Y/n, Joker.”, he passed his hands over his suit jacket as he made way to his seat behind his desk. “I’m glad you were able to make it in one piece. Hope there were no delays of any sort.”

“No delays. Just a  little rat trying to kill me.”, Joker mused. “He made quite the appearance but good little guard girl here made sure I was safe. Even gave me this nice little number”, he motioned towards the bullet proof vest. “So I wouldn’t die.” 

“Red Hood cause you some trouble, Y/n?”, Sionis narrowed his eyes. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”, you spit back through clenched teeth. 

“Yet I don’t see a body on my desk.”, Sionis ran a hand over his mouth, eyes focused on you. 

“Are we here to talk about Red Hood or move forward with the business you claim is so precious we had to bail Joker out of Arkham?”, your words were laced with hatred and annoyance. 

Sionis bit back his words, clenching his jaw before moving forward with his business. “Fortunately, the two correlate.”, he spoke out. 

“The reason I paid the bond for Joker was  to get at our Hood.”, your eyes narrowed slightly, the revelation a little more obvious than you expected. You knew he’d only pay such a high bond price if it meant it would save him money in the long run. It was all business and investments to Sionis. It’s what he built his empire on, the investment of the underground trades and illegal business. 

“Oh, this will be fun”, Joker smiled widely. “I’ll place a cat and mouse game, or maybe send him on a wild goose chase. Oh, I know. I could impersonate the Riddler and make him answer all these stupid questions.”, his laugh cracked through the silence of the room. 

Sionis had the ultimate card in his hand. A piece of you wanted to warn Jason, another part wondered if Sionis’ plan would even be a success. 

“Your job is to do anything necessary to get the Red Hood out of hiding. I don’t care if you have to blow up every building in Gotham or kill every man in connection with him, I want him out of his little hideout and dead on my desk.”, Sionis rose to his feet, walking over to you and pushing his face in front of yours. “Since it seems other methods have failed”, he bit out as you held his gaze, not breaking your confident posture and glare at him. 

“My men will show you the room you’ll stay in, don’t take it for granted or you won’t get payment.”, Sionis threatened as Joker rose to his feet and followed behind Sionis’ men. You began turning to leave, Sionis’ voice making you come to a halt. 

“Do I need to send someone to watch over your business or can you keep this under wraps?”, he called out. “This is our ultimate card. It would be a shame if this leaked and made its way to the son of a bitch’s lap.”

You turned your head slightly, not saying a word as he continued. 

“If I find out that this got to him, I have no choice but to maim the mole alive. Flay them perhaps.”, he bit out. “You are the only one besides my men and I that know of Joker’s whereabouts. Penguin knows just what he needs to. So my suspect list would be very easy to blow through in case I needed to kill anyone who is a mole.”

“I wouldn’t leak anything. My loyalty is to Penguin and you’re his business partner. It isn’t in my best interest to let this get out anywhere.”

“That’s a good girl.”, he smirked and you internally recoiled at the name. 

“Is that all?”, you questioned. 

“No”, he answered. “I have another question”

You raised an eyebrow at him before he stared at you intently. He rose to his feet, walking over to where you stood and met your gaze. “Why don't you leave Penguin and work for me?”

The audacity he had to ask you to abandon your place next to Penguin for him. It made you want to punch him in the mouth. 

“I’m fine where I am.”, you said blandly. 

“I’m not asking for you to be my little assistant. I’m asking for you to be mine”, his voice rang through your ear, the gross feeling you got made you pull back from him. “You could have all the power, the money, the control, the status, all of it would be yours.”

“I’m not in this for power or status.”, you spit out. “You keep getting my personal interests mixed with your own desires and that’s not what I'm in this life for.”

His hand reached behind your head, tightening in your hair as he forced you to look at him more intently. His grasp was rough, it hurt your scalp but you refused to let that pain show in anyway. 

“I could give you everything.”, his face leaned in, a lust deep in his eyes. If there was any man you would stay far away from it was definitely Sionis. “You just love to play hard to get.”

You pulled out your gun, placing it up to his temple and cocking it as his grip tightened. “Let. me. go.”, you spit out with venom dripping from your lips. The taunting in his eyes only getting deeper, his love for the game made it hard to threaten him but you did it anyway. 

You felt his grip release, stepping away from you before returning to his desk. You ignored whatever else he wanted to say, pushing your way out of the door to his office and leaving the building once the elevator brought you down to the lobby. 

Sionis really had gotten ballsy over the past few months, even more so now that he had a card that he could okay and cause all the chaos he wanted within the city. You swung your leg over your motorcycle, revving it as you sped off towards your apartment. 

It wasn’t often the crime in Gotham got so out of hand, maybe a raid here and there but you knew with Joker’s release the mayhem would slowly start to rise within the city. Sionis had little to no remorse for anything, he would do whatever necessary to get whatever he wanted and he was so close to getting Jason off the streets if he allowed for Joker to go head to head with him. The thought spiraled in your head as you approached your street, turning into the alley and turning off the engine. 

You opted for the window, climbing up the ladder as you reached for the window pane, noticing it was already opened. You scrunched your eyebrows, taking out your gun as you climbed through the opening. Once you were fully inside, you turned your head, meeting those dark green eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 

Jason was sitting on the couch, his head leaning back on the cushions and looking up at you. You felt a prickle of annoyance before it disappeared when he full on smiled at you. You mentally cursed yourself for letting him have this hold on you, damming him for being not only charming but handsome at the same time. Guess when you’re the son of Bruce Wayne, looks come with the package. 

“Hey, Sweetheart”, he smirked as he got up off the couch, his height making him end up looking down at you instead of you looking at him. 

“Red.”, you forced. You need to keep your distance, create some kind of boundary that helps you keep him at a distance. Not calling him by name created that distance. “What are you doing here?”

“Was in the neighborhood, thought I’d come drop off a present for you.”, he smirked. He was still wearing his gear, his helmet on the living room table. He really just showed up after trying to sabotage your job tonight. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”, you raised an eyebrow at him before watching him as he walked into the kitchen, two large duffel bags in his hands. You had to stop yourself from physically expressing your shock, watching as he plopped both bags on the dining table. 

“Is this…”, you slowly unzip the bag, letting the muted dark green color pop as you pick up a stack wrapped in a band that read 1,000 USD. 

“It’s your cut from the other night”, he shrugged. “$24 Million”

You felt your heart pound inside your chest. He brought you your cut of the cash, he actually brought you your half. You let his gaze, a shock in them as he smiled at you. That’s why he’d been MIA until tonight, he’d been getting everything worked out to bring you your half. 

“Red, I…”

“Thank you.”, he cut you off. 

“Why are you thanking me?”, your eyes brows furrowed. 

“For helping me. For not killing me. For a lot of things. Mostly for not killing me”, he laughed and it sounded like music to your ears. His deep voice gave him an edge, his laugh even more so. He walked up to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he lifted a hand to grab your face, his thumb softly stroking your skin. 

“Red..”, you whispered, breathing in his musk and trying to keep him at a distance. You forced yourself to believe you couldn’t be caught in such a compromising position and yet you didn’t move away from him or out of his touch. Your eyes melted into his, wanting to deny that he had a hold over you, yet you let him share that moment of familiarity with you. 

You felt his hand hover on your back slightly, almost like testing the waters, before letting it wrap around your waist and pulling you into him. What was it about him that just made all reason go out the window? What hold did he have that made everything you believed to be right, actually wrong? 

He leaned in, his mouth hovering just centimeters above yours, his musk drawing you deeper into him as you breathed him in. You kept telling yourself that it was wrong, he was wrong, this was wrong. He was the enemy, he was the one who ruined your work, the one making hits on Penguin’s operations, the one who made your loyalty completely shatter into doubt of what you were doing in this life. 

“Red.”, you warned, your voice holding absolutely no resolve in it as his lips met yours, deafening everything around you. You breathed him in, his hands burning your skin as they tightened on your waist. You felt his hands go lower, grabbing your thighs as he picked you up into his arms. Jason was built. He was a machine. He had the strength of a bull and carried you like it was nothing. 

Walking over to the couch, he laid you down, his lips never leaving yours and his hand gripping your thighs as he found his place in between them. Your legs wrapped around his waist, his muscles flexing as he broke your kiss moving his way to your neck causing you to hold back a moan. 

He nipped at the skin on your neck, your hands tightening on his arms as you held back your soft cries. He wasn’t letting up and you didn’t want him to. You want him to keep going, to keep making your body feel on fire just like he did a week ago. You wanted him to consume you in every way you knew existed, even in the ways you didn’t. His teeth nipped at your soft skin, his grunts filling your ear as he continued down your neck. 

“R-Red.”, you muttered, trying to push him back slightly, trying to gain some control over the situation. “Stop.”

He pulled back, his deep green eyes meeting yours in a delicate way, his jaw clenched as he tried to gain his composure. 

“Y/n..”

“We shouldn’t do this.”, you whispered against his lips, watching as his eyes filled with desire and held your gaze. “We can’t do this.”

“Why?”, his voice came out in a tone of slight desperation. 

“You know why. We both know why.”, you tried sitting up, his body moving with yours as you sat upwards, your hands still on his arms as you flexed your fingers slightly. 

“You want this.”, he muttered, leaning forward for his forehead to lean against yours, his breath touching your cheek in a soft manner. “What does it matter what they think?”

“Red.”, your eyes closed in frustration. Frustration at him, at yourself, at your selfish wants, at your situation. “That’s exactly why we can’t”

You pushed him off, standing as you walked over to the window, looking out as you let your mind run wild with a million different thoughts. You couldn’t fall into this, couldn’t fall into him. You were getting your jobs done, he’d given you your cut of the money from the Gala, you had more than enough to pack up tonight and leave. You should. You had to do it. If you didn’t leave, you would never get out of Gotham alive. 

“Why do you always deny yourself the things that’ll make you happy?”, a cold sinking feeling melted into your bones, turning to look at him with wide eyes. His own held a determination in them as he rose to his feet, wiping his thumb over his swollen lips as he stood over you. “You’re bailing.”

“No. I’m doing what I have always wanted. I’m leaving because I worked for it.”, you bit out. “I’m leaving Gotham because It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. There is nothing for me here.”

“You don’t know that.”, he retorted in a deep, calm tone. “You’re bailing before you even have the chance to figure it out. You’ve lived on the streets since you were a child, you came into this life when you were 16, you don’t know anything else.”

Your eyes filled with anger, his words fueling the fire inside of you and making you ready to snap at him with every ounce of fury inside of you. 

“If you stayed long enough to leave behind this life and try something else, maybe you’d think it was worthwhile. Maybe you wouldn’t be packing up and leaving the second shit got tough.”, you saw his jaw clench and his hands tighten into fists, almost like he was trying not to let the irritation eat him alive. “Like I said, you always deny yourself of the things that’ll make you happy.”

“I don’t need a lecture from anyone. Especially not you.”, you spit with the venom laced in each word. “You’re just a rich boy going around wreaking havoc because you're too bored to do anything else. You have all of daddy’s money. You don’t know what it’s like to live on the streets and fight for your life, fight for an ounce of power when you feel absolutely worthless, to just have any form of control. You’ve had power and control since you were born, so don’t go lecturing me like you fucking know me.”

“I know you don’t give yourself a chance to be happy. I know you’re working yourself to fucking death every week putting up with the fat bird’s pointless jobs and dealing with that motherfucker Black Mask. I know you’re better than the scraps they give you just so you feel important to them. Let me tell you right now Y/n, they don’t fucking care about you. They never will,”

“Oh and what?”, you gave a pathetic laugh, “You think you’re the one to care for me? You think you know what’s good for me? I have survived this fucking city, the low lives, the drug lords, the murderers, the foolish rich assholes, I have survived it all long enough without your fucking help. So, do us both a fucking favor and get the hell out of my apartment!”, you yelled at him, shoving him back when he tried getting closer to you. “Go back to fucking trying to kill me. You were far more tolerable when you had a gun pointed to my head.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood your ground and had your jaw clenched. His shoulders were tense, his hands were balled into fists, and his face remained neutral. After what felt like forever, he turned, picking his helmet off the table and placing it over his head, hiding his perfect features and those green eyes that made you weak. That was just it, you couldn’t be weak. Not because of him. In this life, weaknesses were not tolerated, especially not when he was the most wanted vigilante in Gotham. 

You stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for him to leave, watching as he climbed through the window and halted halfway before turning towards you. 

“Seems like escaping has been on your mind a lot more recently.”, he muttered, the distorter making his voice change completely. “Thought that would’ve changed by now.”

His words rang through the room as he left, leaving the window open, the money on the floor, and you sitting in your own anger. You felt a heaviness in your chest, an emptiness that you didn't realize would consume you until just now. 

I’ve been wanting to escape a lot less recently.

Your words echoed in your head from all those years ago, a hit to the gut at the memory of what kept you hopeful for the future. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of the dreams you once had as a teenager and now that you were older you felt like you’d failed yourself. 

You’re bailing before you even have the chance to figure it out. 

If you stayed long enough to leave behind this life and try something else, maybe you’d think it was worthwhile. 

His words echoed in your head, almost like a broken record, just repeating until they felt like there was some hidden meaning behind them. You ran a hand over your mouth, letting yourself sit with the small realizations of what he could have possibly meant by his words. Was there something deeper behind his anger? Was there something hiding behind the disguise of frustration that you couldn’t quite place?

A shaky breath escaped your lips, moving towards the kitchen and grabbing one of the duffle bags, moving it into the closet before doing the same to the other. You sat on your bathroom floor, letting the silence of the apartment consume you before letting yourself sit with your calmed emotions. Everything replayed. You wondered, was he right?

Did you bail when things got hard? When did you become so stubborn? When did you stop hoping for more? Was it this life that robbed you of everything or was it your own self destruction? 

You moved through the world with a guarded heart, not letting anyone close enough to penetrate the armor you’d spent the majority of your life forging. You never wanted to be vulnerable, you never wanted to be seen as weak. You sit in the silence and wonder, was that the problem all along? Was it self-preservation that led you to this point, or did it slowly evolve into a self-imposed prison? When did you start to mistake isolation for strength and solitude for safety?

You used to dream of a different life, of leaving Gotham and turning your life around and now, it felt so far in the past. Everything had faded into nothing and a part of you feared leaving the city. You’d be alone again, you’d be forced into starting over, you’d be forced to forget everything that made the city worthwhile. You’d forget him. 

You stood, staring at your reflection in the mirror, a ghost staring back at you. A version of yourself that didn’t exist in this timeline, a version of yourself that felt familiar and foreign. A happier, perhaps more stable, version of yourself that likely lived a carefree life. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, and let the silence wash over you once more. You turned, walking to your bed and laying on the mattress as you stared out at the empty sky, letting your tired body slowly sink into your sheets. 

If you stayed long enough to leave behind this life and try something else, maybe you’d think it was worthwhile. 

The words continued to echo. 

A constant loop. 

A replay of words as you slowly slipped into unconsciousness, the words blurring into a completely new meaning. 

If you stayed long enough to leave this life behind and experience what it's like to be happy, maybe you’d think it was worthwhile. 

Maybe you’d think I was worthwhile.

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry this chapter got delayed for posting, summer class finals have been consuming my time! BUT after the next two weeks, I will have all the free time to just write at my hearts content and get this series into the second half! I really loved all the reactions to the last chapter and it makes me feel so much more motivated seeing everyone's comments, reposts, and messages.

I have another set of one-shots that I plan on posting (some are 2 part stories) since I've had them in the vault for a minute, so they will likely get posted along with Playing with Fire. They are anime fanfictions (Jujutsu Kaisen mainly) so if you're also into those check them out!

I will be creating a Masterlist of all my works soon so everything is all in one place!

Look forward to next week and again thank you guys for all the love and support!

[musicalmoritz]

Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

[auras-moonstone]

Hey,

Can you write a mini story of Jack and the reader. And can the trope be a fake dating for the media. Also can you the reader as an actress as well. And during their fake dating fling, they developed their feelings for each other but weren’t that sure to admit. So Jack calls it off and starts dating another girl. Later on, he realizes he still has feelings for the reader. And you can write the ending, please surprise me!

hi! i love this trope😫 hope you enjoy it🤍!

lost in translation — jack champion

word count: 2,944

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n and jack are working on a rom-com together and are asked to fake date. feelings bloom and jack calls it off, breaking y/n’s heart and, as collateral damage, their friendship.

author’s note: this is me claiming my love for louis partdrige (he’s so pretty😫) and lynn painter (read her books she’s amazing)

Y/N HAD ALWAYS BEEN A BIG ROMCOM LOVER, SO WHEN SHE GOT THE ROLE OF LIZ ON THE ADAPTATION OF BETTER THAN THE MOVIES, SHE WAS ON CLOUD NINE. She met Jack (the boy who was going to play Wes, her love interest) on the chemistry read and the director instantly fell in love with their dynamic, and that’s how they got the role.

During the shooting, Y/N and Jack developed a close friendship. But the fans of the well-known rom-com book started shipping them even when the content the community managers shared was very scarce—just a few pictures of them on their breaks or during the filming, and some bloopers. The whole media kept talking about them, about how good they looked together, how their chemistry transcended the screen; and so the people involved in the publicity of the movie made a decision.

“You want us to what?” Y/N asked dumbfounded.

“To fake-date. The press tour is about to start, and we think you two dating can really boost the excitement for the movie” the head of publicity stated. “We can’t actually make you do it, as it wasn’t originally in the contract, but we think this is a great idea. The people love you”.

Y/N looked at Jack, who hadn’t moved a muscle ever since the suggestion. “Jack? What do you think?”.

“Can we talk about it? Alone?” he asked to the man in front of them, who reluctantly nodded before leaving the office. “I honestly don’t know shit about publicity, but if they think it’s going to help, then we should do it”.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Jack nodded “It’s you the one who doesn’t seem sure”.

“I don’t have a problem with fake dating you, I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot” Y/N told him. Jack’s heart broke, knowing how hard it was for her to establish friendships after her old friends started acting weird and became more interested in the events she could take them to rather than in her well-being and life. He knew he was one of her only real friends and now felt bad she had been put in such a spot.

“Hey, no. It won’t, it’ll be just like when we were filming, right? Just that we will do it in public” Jack tried to reassure her, pulling her into a hug.

“Okay… let’s just promise that if we get uncomfortable or if it’s becoming too much, we’ll be honest with each other and call this thing off, okay? Our friendship is way more important that the publicity” she said, looking him in the eyes.

Jack smiled, and showed her his little finger “I pinky promise”. Y/N laughed, wrapping her pinky with his.

And so their fake relationship began, not knowing that no promises could stop the feelings that were meant to evolve.

THEY COULDN’T REALLY TELL THE EXACT MOMENT EVERYTHING CHANGED. The shift in their relationship was so natural and gradual that they almost didn’t notice.

Everything was done more often—dates, kisses, hand holding—, physical touch seemed to be a need now—it could be just intertwined fingers or his arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist—, longing glances when the other wasn’t looking, eyes drifting to each other’s lips everytime one of them was talking. They even had dates out of the public sight—even though none of them called it a ‘date’, they simply convinced theirselves it was a friendly hang out. They slept at each other’s houses, waking up the following day with Jack’s arms draped around her waist while her back was pressed against his front or, their personal favorite, Y/N’s head on his chest and arms around his torso while Jack’s was wrapped around her shoulders pressing her more against his chest.

So yes, it was so slow and felt so natural that it took them time to realize they had fallen for each other. Both of them had completely different reactions—while Y/N decided she was going to take a risk and confess her feelings, Jack’s fears blinded him. It’s not that he didn’t want to admit his feelings, but everytime the option of confessing crossed his mind the words she spoke came to him: “I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot”. Y/N had been so scared of their friendship being ruined because of the fake dating thing, Jack knew keeping his feelings hidden was the best option. But also, he couldn’t keep hurting himself and that was exactly what he was doing by pretending to be her boyfriend when he wanted it to be real.

Friday came around, meaning it was their sleepover day. They had just finished eating the spaghetti Y/N made, and were about to choose a movie to watch when Jack decided to speak up at the same time Y/N opened her mouth to confess.

“Oh, sorry. You can tell me” Jack told her. Y/N shook her head, signalling him to go ahead. “I have been thinking and I think we should call the fake dating thing off”.

Y/N’s mouth was open, yet no words came out of it. She had been thinking for days what the best way to express her feelings for him would be. She had a whole speech planned and was now left speechless.

“Oh… okay, if you feel is the best thing” she faked her best smile, while trying not to fall apart right in front of his eyes. “I just… need to ask, is everything okay? I mean, this is very sudden”.

“I just feel this is becoming too much, and you said we should be honest with each other” he simply answered.

Y/N nodded playing with the remote control in her hand. It was clear, he felt uncomfortable being her fake boyfriend because he only saw her as a friend. “Right, yeah. Thank you for telling me, then. We should talk to the head of publicity tomorrow. The press tour is almost over, so there shouldn’t be any problem”

“Cool” Jack nodded. He should’ve felt relieved that she took it so well, but instead, he felt sad. Maybe even disappointed in the fact that she didn’t fight the decision. And he also felt angry at himself for expecting so much of her part when it wasn’t her fault that he had fallen for her and she didn’t feel the same.

Jack had wanted to save their friendship so bad, he didn’t realize that the conversation had been the first crack in the glass.

Y/N REALLY DID TRY TO NOT LET THE CIRCUMSTANCES INFLUENCE THEIR FRIENDSHIP, BUT THEY WERE SLOWLY DRIFTING APART. The texts were becoming less frequent and drier, the hang outs were brief and filled with awkwardness and so were their conversations.

The publicists thanked all the gods that the press tour was over, because they had never seen two people have less chemistry than Jack and Y/N. It was so hard for everyone to comprehend how two people whose eyes used to spark when they were around the other suddenly became lifeless.

But their breaking point came a few weeks later, it was the thing that made them stop talking for good. No more texting at all, no hanging out—alone or in public—no conversations, no looking at each other, no interactions at all.

Y/N was watching a movie with her friends, Millie and Louis, when Millie suddenly gasped. Y/N and Louis laughed “Mills, if you are with your phone while we’re watching a movie at least be discreet” the girl said, but Millie didn’t laugh or apologise, she just stared at her with saddened eyes, which made Y/N frown. “Is everything okay?”.

“When was the last time you opened social media?” she asked, while Louis took her phone to see what she was looking at.

Y/N saw him clench his jaw, which made her feel more confused “Um, I barely use my phone anymore, just to text… why? You’re scaring me, guys” she laughed nervously, trying to take a peek at the phone but Louis hid it quickly “Lou, give me the phone”.

The boy sitting next to her shook his head “It’s not the best idea”.

“Tell me what is going on, please. You’re making me anxious” Y/N’s voice was almost begging.

Millie sighed “It’s a picture someone took of Jack… he’s with a girl. They are… holding hands and exiting a restaurant”.

“Let me see” Y/N said extending her hand, but Louis just refused to do it. “Louis. Phone. Now”.

“Come on, Y/N/N, don’t be a masochist” Louis told her.

“I’m just going to see it on my phone later, so what you’re trying to do is useless” Y/N pointed out.

Louis sighed in defeat and gave her Millie’s phone. Y/N stared at the picture—Jack was looking as gorgeous as ever and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She missed him so fucking much, she hadn’t heard his voice in days (now she knew why, he was too busy). And then her eyes trailed to the girl holding his hand. She was very pretty—tall, long legs, blonde, muscular, stylish—and Y/N couldn’t help but compare herself with her.

“Stop it, I know what you’re doing and just don’t” Louis said, turning the phone off. “You’re gorgeous and way too good for him. It’s his loss, and he doesn’t deserve you”.

Y/N broke down for the first time in weeks, her feelings had been bottled up and the glass that held them inside finally exploded. Louis quickly put his arms around her, and Millie joined them in a heartbeat.

“I still have the fucking premiere” she cried harder when she remembered “What if- what if he goes with her? I can’t go”.

“Are you kidding me? You’re not going to miss the premiere. You work so hard for this! It’s your favorite rom-com and you are the main protagonist!” Millie said. “This is your dream. And you’re not going to let this ruin it”.

“I know, Mills. But I won’t be able to handle it. He’s going to be there, and even if she’s not there, I know he’s with her and looking at him knowing that will kill me” Y/N said, brushing away the tears. “Besides I can’t face that alone”.

“You’re not going to be alone. I’ll go with you” Louis offered.

“You actually had a great idea for once!” Millie exclaimed, making Louis roll his eyes and Y/N let out a little laugh. “Lou will be there for moral support, and you won’t feel alone. But you are definitely not going to miss your premiere”.

“Thank you, guys. I love you”

JACK’S MIND HAD BEEN A MESS LATELY. Y/N stopped responding his texts, it’s been two weeks with no signs of her. He would’ve been worried if he hadn’t seen the instagram stories her friends, Millie and Louis, posted with her. So it didn’t take a genius to realize she was ignoring him on purpose, and he didn’t have a clue why. He missed her so much, it was driving him insane. Jack wanted to go back to that night and take back everything he had said, they still would be fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth.

Jack thought that by cutting off the deal, they would go back to being friends and his feelings would have eventually faded away. He even started dating a girl he meet at the gym, but Y/N lingered on his mind all day, every day. And when the day of the premiere came, his eyes searched for her figure as soon as he arrived to the red carpet.

Jack’s smile widened when he saw her. She looked absolutely breathtaking—as always—but then his smile fell when he realized she was with someone else.

“Can you at least be a little less obvious?” Kate asked.

“Sorry” Jack apologised. “Thank you for coming with me, even after our breakup”.

“It isn’t a break up if we weren’t really together. It was just a couple of dates to benefit the other. You needed to get your mind off her, I needed to get my mind off my ex” she answered. “Although I have to say, I don’t know if me coming was the best idea”.

“Maybe not” Jack said, stopping for a picture “I just couldn’t face it alone”.

“He’s with her” Y/N said to Louis, faking smiles as the photographers flashed their cameras at them.

“I know. I’ve been feeling his stare ever since we arrived” Louis replied. “He’s totally jealous, I can feel it”.

Y/N shook her head “You’re speaking nonsense”

“Nope, I know what I’m talking about. And I get it, you’re looking incredibly stunning and you have an eye-candy with extremely good bone-structure on your arm”

“And with a big ego” she added with a laugh. “Let’s go, eye candy”.

“Don’t you need to take pictures with him?” Louis asked in a whisper as they approached Jack and his date.

“Yeah” Y/N sighed, chest tightening as they reached them. “Hi” she greeted, looking at Jack—who looked beyond handsome—and then set her eyes on the girl next to him. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”.

“Kate” she greeted with a smile “And we both not that’s a lie” Kate laughed, surprising her. “It’s okay. Just, take the pictures and please, for the love of god, talk to each other!”

“Hi, I’m Louis and I’m very confused” the tall boy next to Y/N spoke up. “But I agree with the last part” he added, then looked at his friend “I’ll see you later to see the movie, okay? Let’s go…”

“Kate” the blonde girl reminded him as they walked away.

The two teenagers looked at each other, not knowing what to say. “We should… pose for the picture maybe?” Y/N broke the silence.

Jack nodded nervously “Yeah, yeah”.

He put his hand on her waist, and they both tensed. It had been so long since they were this close, their skin felt like burning and their hearts were beating at a dangerous rhythm. They only posed for a couple of seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. But once it was over, the awkwardness came back.

“Let’s go inside, our dates are waiting” she spoke up.

They entered the place, but as Y/N began to walk away, Jack’s hand grabbed hers making her stop in her tracks. “No. We need to talk first”.

“Jack, the movie is starting in a few minutes”

“A few minutes is all I need. I—we—can’t go on like this” Jack said. “I’m sorry. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly what I did, but I’m sorry for not trying hard enough to save our friendship”.

“That’s the thing, Jack. It isn’t your fault, it’s all on me. I’m the one who drifted apart because I didn’t know how to handle my feelings” Y/N let her guard down, willing to be completely honest. After all, their friendship was already dead.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked confused.

“I love you, Jack. I- I wanted to tell you. In fact, I planned on telling you during our last sleep over but-“

“But I called our deal off” he finished, cursing himself.

Y/N nodded “I understood that acting as my boyfriend was too much for you, because you only saw me as a friend. But I just couldn’t go back to being just your friend, I tried for a while but it was really hard. And then, you started dating her and… it killed me. I just couldn’t talk to you knowing you had someone else”.

Jack shook his head, wanting to laugh at the situation “The reason I called it off is because I fell for you, Y/N/N. I didn’t think you felt the same, and I knew how important our friendship was to you. I wanted to protect it, but instead I messed it up”

Y/N looked at him with her mouth open, and then laughed drily “Really? All this time we felt the same thing and we ruined it because we got lost in translation?” she said in a tone of disbelief “And now it’s already too late”.

“What? Why?” Jack asked surprised. “I still love you… you don’t love me anymore?”

“Of course I love you Jack, but you have a girlfriend”

“Kate is not my girlfriend. She never was” Jack told her.

“I saw the pictures, Jack”

“We went to a couple of dates, we both needed to get our minds off the people we loved. But we stopped once we realized how silly it was, we’re just friends” he explained. Jack took one step closer to her until her back touched the wall behind her “I love you and I want to be your boyfriend… that is if you aren’t dating Louis”.

Y/N laughed, her smile now impossible to erase “No, he came as a friend”

Jack smiled in relief “So…”

“So, boyfriend, we should get inside, our dates are waiting” Y/N said, a teasing smile on her face.

Jack laughed “Can I kiss you first?”

“I’m begging you” she said, grabbing the collar of his suit to push him down. Their lips met in the middle and they both smile through it “I missed this, I missed you”.

“God, I missed you too. You have no idea” he said, kissing her harder.

“Hey, this is a family friendly place” Louis’ voice interrupted them “Get inside, love birds, your movie is about to start”.

Jack and Y/N looked at each other with lovey smiles and, hand in hand, they entered the theatre to see the movie that brought them together.

[sitp-recs]

Hey do you have any Drarry fic recs which basically have Draco completely changing in 8th year/after the war, like he's dyed his hair and has tattoos and just has become more friendly and changed and Harry basically loses his mind? Kinda tired of the grovelling Draco or animosity fics atp.. Thanks :)

Hi anon! Omg yes, love me confused Harry losing his mind over a changed, hotter and confident Draco. This trope always delivers even when Draco doesn’t go through major physical changes (I love it when he gets extra though 🤌🏼). I have a few recs but they’re all post-Hogwarts, I hope they still work for you!

Enjoy the Silence by @shealwaysreads (M, 3.4k)

Draco stops speaking, gets some tattoos, and discovers that Harry’s happy to be quiet with him.

Under Your Skin by p1013 (E, 4k)

He initials another section and flips the page. Being a junior Auror is a lot more grunt work than he expected, and the paperwork isn't even the worst of it. He's also managed to catch intake duty. It's getting close to 2 AM, there hasn't been a single arrest brought in tonight, and he's still got another six hours before his shift is over. Rubbing a hand over his face, he prays for something, anything, to make the interminable evening better.

The Study of Change by p1013 (M, 4.3k)

Harry's going to hell. He's going to hell immediately. Even with all of the good he's done in his life, he's never going to overcome the impure thoughts racing through his head at the sight of Draco Malfoy looking like an academic wet dream in a room full of barely legal adults.

Starstruck by phrynne (E, 4.5k)

Yeah, Malfoy has pink hair. Or sort of. Half of his hair is shaved short and dyed an aggressive pink. The other half is still white-blond, a strand falling over his right eye, only the left side of his face visible at all times. He turns it slightly and spots me beyond the moving bodies. He doesn’t stop dancing, a smile plays on his lips. This time I don’t look away like I used to when all this began.

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by @tessacrowley (E, 9.6k)

Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he's wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can't.

Dream by the Fire by GallifreyisBurning (M, 11k)

When Draco Malfoy resurfaces in England after eight years abroad—tattooed, pierced, and wanting to take over a corner of Harry's coffee shop to work on a writing project—Harry can't help but be intrigued. Where has he been? What is he working on? Why here? And why does he have to look so stupidly hot with all those tattoos?

Cold Like Fire by QueenofThyme (M, 12k)

Head Auror Harry Potter had no problem with mandatory consent training for his team. He’d actually been looking forward to it, that is, until he discovered who the teacher was. Now, he had no idea how he was going to get through the training without throwing a hex at Draco Malfoy. Or a punch.

In the Shape of Things to Come by @academicdisasterfic (E, 15k)

Existential angst and chronic boredom are plaguing Harry Potter in his cushy post-war life. However, a chance encounter with a tattooed, pierced, disgruntled Draco Malfoy in the middle of Muggle Camden seems to spark something in Harry again—and he never could stay away from Malfoy.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by @wellhalesbells (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

Ink (My Skin With Your Name) by Kandakicksass (M, 22k)

Several years after the war, an ostracized Draco Malfoy covers himself in tattoos, becomes best friends with a muggle, and debates abandoning magical society entirely to work in a tattoo shop. All in all, he's having a hell of a time trying to figure out who he is and what he wants to do with his life. The last thing he needs is to run into Harry Potter, who seems intent on becoming his friend, even if he has to get a lot of ink to do it.

All Bets Are Off by dualwieldteacup (M, 31k)

Harry Potter's latest security assignment brings him to Las Vegas for the International Wizarding Casino World Series. At a magic underwater hotel, he is tasked with guarding the legendary and mysterious gambler known as Snake Eyes. The stakes are high when both Galleons and emotions are involved. Not to mention peacock pool floats, secret pizza, and most importantly of all, second chances.

[defire]

Hi, so, I have a question, so I'm new to the whump community, and actually Tumblr, as well, and I've noticed that a lot of the writers on here have their own OCs that they use in different stories and art and stuff, but I....really can't draw, and I'd love to make my own OC like this but I'm not sure if it's possible without the ability to draw them.....help?

Hey you don't have to draw them, and also you can use something like a picrew maker to pin down how they look--this can help with inspiration and introducing them.

Also you don't have to have an image for your character to be vivid. here's some tips for character creation/intros:

start off with a bang and introduce them with the most obvious characteristic you want to stand out, usually a good thing; a gift! (Example my character, Michael, correctly analyzing his attackers in the first chapter of Back to the Dregs, showing that he's smart.)

Give them a physical attribute that they're identified by. Maybe someone mocks them for their hair always being in their face. or they have knee-high red boots that they're always worried about muddying.

give them a contrasting problem to their gift, like, maybe being strong-and-silent gets them respect, but they have a hard time expressing themselves when they need to. (then you can have antagonist punching them every time they don't answer and protagonist just struggling to find the words)

Let the story take shape around your character so they're the most important person in it and they're moving the story forward by making their own decisions

Always let your instincts guide you EVEN IF IT SEEMS OVERDONE. there is a reason for tropes. It's because lots of people can relate! Do what feels best and if it starts getting boring, ask yourself, "but what would be actually cool" or something like that. indulge yourself in your dream for this.

(you don't have to listen to me this is just how I do it!) (oh and feel free to be funny; my favorite works come out of torturing once-funny characters--like Dean Winchester or Stiles Stilinski)

[beenbaanbuun]

Hey bunny! I'm back at it with my brainrot XD this time the trope is brother's best friend but the subject is still Kang Yeosang cuz I'm obsessed with him and the anti delulu meds didn't work 😮‍💨🫠🫠

I think this is the result of reading too many teacher/personal tutor yuyu fics + seeing posts about how our slow boy is actually hella smart, but can you imagine bratty MC and brother's best friend Yeosang (the brother in question being San or Yunho) who's known all over campus and your neighbourhood as being this sweet lil angel boy.... but who has been an absolute MENACE to you since you were kids?

Not in a harsh way cuz I don't think our boy is capable of that, but he's so indifferent and blunt? Barely pays you any mind at all and when he does it's this clipped, measured politeness?? Which is so unfair because he's beautiful and you've had a crush on him since forever???

Honestly it's more your fault than his that you're always so angry at him, but it makes you snappish and bratty just to try and push his buttons, but he never seems phased, always responds in a cool levelheaded way that's kinda hot and makes you even MORE pissed

So when you're failing math and your oh so wonderful brother decides to volunteer his only number literate friend as a tutor? And for some reason that friend says yes??

I can't finish these thoughts cuz I have a dinner to get to but yeah! Hope you have a good day bunny! Thank you so much for blessing us with all the incredible content that you do, make sure to get some rest and stay hydrated while you're at it <33

~Lyra

no bc i love this so much!!! just reader being bratty and then yeosang being all nonchalant about it AHDKSGDJSV ITS SO GOOD!!!!

but i feel like yeosang would be patient to a degree. like sure, he’s chill and cool about it usually but if you push his buttons too far he just snaps and you don’t expect it at all.

“can you focus?” he grumbles as he tried to find the relevant page in the text book. you’ve been watching the way his hands move over the pages for the best part of 5 minutes now, not taking in a single word he has to say. sure you’ve been listening, kind of, but that’s just so you can hear his deep voice in your ear - no other reason, “i’m not here for fun, y’know…”

you can’t help but scoff because of course not. why would he be here for fun? honestly, you have a hard time working out why he’s here at all, especially when he’s not getting paid for it.

“well, it’s not like you ever focus on what i have to say,” you spit back at him as you put your pen down defiantly. he doesn’t say anything or even acknowledge it, which only serves to drive your frustration up even higher. it’s not like you need a tutor anyway. sure, you’re failing, but you don’t see why that means yeosang had to be called in to help.

“maybe say something worth listening to,” he says, voice as calm as always, “now pick up your pen and work through these logarithmic functions for me.”

years ago you probably would’ve jumped at the thought of doing anything ‘for him’. what with his stupidly pretty face attached to that stupidly muscular body, and his irresistibly deep voice that only seems to come out with irritatingly quick quips. he was the only man to exist in your eyes, and perhaps he still would be if he weren’t so annoying. always so polite with you like you couldn’t see him being so free with other people. never responding to your jokes or rising to your teasing. it’s like he wants nothing to do with you, and you hate it.

in fact, you hate a lot of things, like the fact that you love a man who clearly wants nothing to do with you, or the fact that everything he does regarding you pisses you off. you hate that you can’t seem to shed your feelings of affection and lust towards him despite his apparent distaste of you.

but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s tutoring you, and for some reason he’s doing it for free.

you sigh and try your hardest to brush away your annoyance. if he’s going to be here, you may as well make him pay, right? maybe if you push his buttons enough he’ll decide he doesn’t want to come back.

“i don’t want to,” you push your pen further onto the page with a shit-eating grin, “so you’re going to have to make me.”

you watch him as he mumbles something under his breath, eyes rolling into his skull in annoyance, and you can’t deny that it feels good to finally get a rise out of him.

“i’ll tell yunho you’re not being cooperative,” he threatens. you shrug your shoulders.

“and what’s he going to do?” you reply, “find me a different tutor? i doubt it,” you smirk and lean in close, “you’re the only one willing to do this for free.”

at this, he closes his eyes and puts his own pen down. you almost cry out in victory when he rubs at his face in frustration, a small groan leaving his lips when he pulls them away again.

“believe me, sangie,” you say in the most sickly sweet tone you can muster, “nothing you can do is going to make me cooperate.”

he turns his head in one shaky motion, and he looks at you properly for the first time since entering your house. he’s pretty as always, but you can hardly take the time to study him when he’s looking at your like he’s a predator about to pounce. his eyes are icy cold as he runs them up and down your body. his jaw is clenched as his gaze finally settles on your face, and you have to admit that the quiet boy has suddenly got very intimidating. you shrink back into your seat.

“fine then,” he says through gritted teeth, “either you do this, or i’ll have to find some other way to teach you a lesson.” now it’s his turn to lean in close. his elbows find purchase on his knees as he lowers his face to yours. you can feel the way his breath brushes against your exposed collarbones, and you hope to anything out there that he doesn’t see the way it sends a shiver down your spine, “don’t think i don’t notice the way you look at me, little girl. i’ve seen you staring at my hands. i know you’ve been daydreaming about me, hm?”

in the blink of an eye, he traps you. with one hand on one of your chair’s arm rests, he spins it until you’re facing him fully. his own rolls forwards until his thigh’s sit either side of yours. you blink at him, all wide eyed and confused. he just smirks at you.

“i’ve seen what you’ve been doing all these years,” a hand drops to your thigh, rubbing gently up and down against the skin that your short skirt - that you’d worn for no reason… no reason at all - had left exposed, “teasing me, trying to get me to drop my act and finally do what we’ve both been craving for so long. i’ve always kept to my lane for the sake of yunho, but i don’t think i can anymore.”

you whimper when he moves his face in close to yours, lips barely brushing up against yours. he smiles, nipping at your bottom lip gently.

“not when you so clearly need to be taught a lesson…”

[idyllic-affections]

tighnari teaching his lil sibling about botany ,,,,

he would be so so much gentler compared to how he does it with the rest of the forest rangers. he would walk in the forest with them, holding their hand so they dont trip, and carefully explaining some of the plants and their specialities

its even better if his sibling is curious! every time they ask him sth about a plant hed chuckle and explain in a way they would understand

i think collei would join in too sometimes. she'd join in to both learn and explain what she knows! (if they call her big sister she is a goner she goes AWWWW DHBEFJKGLH)

i love them your honor

-🌸 (aly)

family botany lessons.

summary. tighnari is a kind teacher when it is his younger sibling who is his student.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. tighnari & younger sibling!reader, collei & reader. 0.3k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. you're so right aly your brain is SO big!!!! tbh i think they would be such a cute lil family. like. AHSJGHF they are very cute <3

tighnari is definitely much gentler with his little sibling than he is with the other forest rangers. he doesn't mock, he doesn't go on a tangent, he's just... calm. he is rather rough with the others, but it is not out of ill intent, of course; his "teacher mode" doesn't come from a bad place. he simply wants all of his juniors to take his lessons seriously and to learn, but he doesn't feel the need to be so stern with his sibling. they listen very well and respect him very deeply. there's simply no need for tighnari to be hard on them.

he often takes them out on little "expeditions" around sumeru's forests, teaching them what plants are safe to eat and what plants aren't, what plants have medicinal value, what plants can be used for what purpose, etc. the forest watcher is very careful when leading them along. he'll let them walk a little bit ahead if they so please—he thinks exploring is important for their development—but he won't let them wander too far. if they need help getting up somewhere, he'll hoist them up and make sure they can get up safely before following after them.

"nari, nari, what's this plant?"

tighnari is certainly at his calmest when he is teaching his sibling. he chuckles at their enthusiasm, hand settling on the top of their head as he goes on to explain the mushroom that they pointed out and its properties.

collei definitely does tag along sometimes too!

tighnari is very patient with her. it's really no secret of any kind that he prefers both [name] and collei, so he has no qualms with bringing her along sometimes. she's still learning too, and tighnari thinks her bond with his sibling is very cute.

he often watches as they run around, dragging her along with them.

"oh, oh, big sister! collei! look, look..."

they don't seem to notice the way they addressed her through their excitement, but collei certainly does. she swears her heart skips a beat in her chest at that, and suddenly, warmth is flooding her face. she smiles nonetheless and jogs after them while being mindful of her physical condition.

"h— hey! wait up! be careful, you might fall!"

overall they are just a very cute little family <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot.

[marzipanilla]

Re: your tags; I know very little about the Invincible comics and I'm curious about the differences between them and the show, and how you think they're handled?

(p.s. I'm the one who commented on your time loop Debbie fic recently and I just wanted to say once again how much I like it :D)

Hey there ! Thought I recognized your name. Thanks. : D

Sure. I can ramble insanely about this lol I'll stick with just comic stuff that has been covered by the show so far, with a few mentions to things that seem to currently be absent since the comics had already mentioned them by now, so they could show up, could not- might be mild spoilers.

If you're curious about other stuff check out this tag (which I'll also add to this post) where Stove and I just theory craft and world build and ramble about the show in general.

Rest under the cut bc I can talk a lot lol

In general if you're also just looking for broader stuff about the themes and ideas that really could be present in Invincible but aren't- if you aren't familiar, Overly Sarcastic Productions is a YouTube channel that does video essays and they have a great one about the Superman trope, and they also cover Homelander and Omni-Man in it- and what they talk about in there about the politics and symbol of what a 'Superman' character really represents is just great and definitely something I think the writers could have integrated more. Again, this is a 20 year old piece of media that has one of its original creators attached to it- and he has flat out said he hoped to fix/tweak some things in it! Where I think Invincible is really beginning to fall flat is trying to adhere too much to its source material rather than being willing to use it as a basis for telling a better story, which seemed like something they were willing to do initially but has since tapered off.

I read from someone else that 'Invincible' is called that bc it's about Mark's indomitable spirit and nothing to do with his sort of invulnerability, and while I agree with that sentiment I think the comic and the show sort of lose sight of that. Like, stumbling blocks learning curves yes, but it IS very funny to go from S2 ending 'I need to learn to control myself' Mark to S3 'lose my shit and blender everything that stresses me out/threatens me' right up top.

But to try and go more in order...

S1 is the largest deviation from comic canon in that it added a lot. Darkblood being relevant, Cecil (who isn't introduced until after Nolan reveals himself in the comic), the entire investigation into who killed the Guardians, Amber being a fleshed out character. Debbie is much more of an accessory than a character in the comics (none of her talks w Mark about being a hero exist, none of her talks w Nolan about teaching him about Earth are in it) so pretty much anything that happens with her in that season is brand new. As is the support group and her near suicide in S2. I fell in love with Debbie in S1, and like you, her dynamic w Nolan is pretty much my one major investment in the narrative. And then after I watched S1 I read the comics, and uh.. yeah. Was not particularly pleased with what I read.

In the show Nolan is clearly shown struggling with what he is doing and is also very much an alien who had to learn through his relationship with Debbie about Earth, intimacy, and empathy. Nolan in the comics is more or less the perfect image of a family man (who seems to have figured everything out about Earth on his own) who raised his son and brings home the bacon (Debbie is a housewife in the comics, getting into real estate only after Nolan leaves). He also doesn't have the 'save planets vs save people' mentality that he does in the show. Comic!Nolan genuinely helps everybody all the time, no complaints, and definitely was never shown dropping a guy to scare information out of him.

The reveal happens later in the narrative and is much more sudden and jarring. Nobody suspects him (he wasn't injured, he just kills them all in one page of the comic and then goes about his day) yet he is arguably MUCH more callous in the comic once the truth comes out. Though he doesn't put Mark's head through a train. I think the hesitancy and the difficulty and the very ridiculous attempt to try and keep Debbie with him in the show is better for the over all narrative, though on a micro level I don't really have a preference for one over the other- Nolan is just arguably a different guy in the comic (I would say Mark and Debbie are as well).

His time on Thraxa is where a pretty massive change between the two is present. In the comic, Nolan has ~two weeks to hold his breath in space before he'll suffocate (just the amount of time we're given adult viltrumites can hold their breath for) and there is no suicide attempt- he just lands on Thraxa bc he stumbled across it and they put him in charge bc he's old. He also planned to take over and give the planet to the Viltrumite Empire as a mea culpa for fucking up on Earth! He eventually elects not to do this and sends for Mark to help him with his brother et al.

I do prefer the change the show gave us, suicidally depressed guy falls into being a hero and maybe starts to get his shit together. It gives a much better weight to the fact Earth did affect him and he is still carrying it around. Mark also breaks down into tears and begs his father to come home so they can all be a family again, which thank god they changed that. Mark doesn't express much in the comic aside from one snarky comment about his dad moving on real quick (which Nolan tells him to shut down because 'I'm still your father' and Mark shuts up). When asked about Debbie, in the comic Nolan just says 'I don't want to talk about your mother' and Mark drops it, not even defending her like he does in the show. (Debbie just becomes a passed out on the floor alcoholic in the comic until Mark yells at her one day and then that makes her get her shit together, which like, very glad they changed that, though I could have stood to see her drinking getting a little closer to what happens in the comic just bc I'm a sucker for characters I like suffering)

The show also did everything in it's power to make Andressa a person with feelings, and honestly I applaud the attempt but unless literally anyone bothers to mention her again why. She is such a plot device. In the comic she says 'it's an honor to be mated to him' re: Nolan and definitely doesn't have any long speeches about falling in love so hard she was apparently willing to overlook the guy having beat his last kid near to death and demeaned and abandoned his last spouse- and look, I will always be on the fence about how much Andressa actually knew about what happened and how it was presented to her bc what the fuck. Whatever was going on in Nolan's head when he decided to get remarried and have another kid is something that is genuinely never addressed in the comic and the show currently has a chance to rectify this, but who knows if they will.

I do all I can to warn people that I am definitely not unbiased and Oliver bugs the fuck out of me. There is a 'common' most hated character in the series, and I am ambivalent about them, but I fucking hate Oliver.

So far, his integration into Debbie's life on Earth is the one thing that was handled with a lot better grace, while I still find his entire story line very obnoxious. In the comic, Mark drops Oliver off at her house so he can go talk to Amber and when he comes back Debbie is just like 'I'm adopting him bc clearly as a mother I cannot resist taking care of a baby!'. The show let's her have feelings about it at least, but I still am mad that it didn't just have Mark single-father his brother. Just. Just fucking do it. The comics practically never showed Debbie actually raising/interacting with Oliver anyway. I am pretty sure the GDA tutor and Oliver have more back and forth dialogue with each other... like.. they literally just dumped this kid off on Debbie then never showed her actually raising him. The show is having her be more active with him, but it is in such an coddling mentality that I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

I AM baffled by her very mild response to him killing the Maulers, and it makes me nervous about what they plan to do with her. Debbie basically doesn't have any storylines going farther into the comic (her getting a job is really the one thing she ever does that's about her) so unless they start making shit up like in S1 she is going to becoming very extraneous, very quickly. Which is very saddening to me because I loved her so much in S1. Her revealing Mark and Oliver's identities to Paul in the comic is much more of a screaming match between her and Mark so I am very glad of the show's change there. My biggest gripes about her relationship w Paul in the comics has yet to come, so, we'll see if the show fixes anything there or not. Mostly though I do wish they were willing to completely rewrite that and just let her be single and have friends for a bit.

I think the show is just drawing out some things with Oliver, as he was more upfront at this point in the comics about being alien on an alien world he had no stake in, but at the same time the comics only ever seemed to use it as a shallow excuse rather than deep dive into what that could mean for the character.

Like, are you telling that 1) - he is just genetically predisposed to being a killer, which- WILD ass take to have in a narrative that so heavily features Nolan, a guy whose ENTIRE arc is about getting away from the edicts he was raised in and being able to change (not to mention the utter lack of this type of behavior in any Thraxan) or

2) he just picked that mind set up somewhere. To which the question begs, where? Supposedly he was raised by the (at the time) most emotionally available and non-homicidal version of Nolan there was, and Andressa, who very much was not presented with such a mindset. Mark and Debbie clearly didn't impart this to him! And the show fumbled here! Because they could have focused on the Levy attack. (Debbie does not get into a brawl w him in the comics, he just breaks her arm) They could have had him talk about that and how it shaped how he views 'bad guys' and what they're capable of! (in the comics Oliver remembers everything from when he was a baby) but no.

He's just special so he should get to kill people??

He could have been a fascinating way for Mark and him to explore what being children of an invader left on worlds that were invaded and given the legacy of the people who were conquered/near conquered from their mothers while struggling with being viewed as the invader their father was by everyone. but no. He's just an obnoxious child.

The show thus far has not brought up/has potentially written out the 'viltrumites are predisposed towards RAGE' thing that the comic had already brought up a few times by now. Which, they could be holding on to as a ~reveal for Oliver and Mark's smashy smash behavior, but dear god, we don't need biological determinism in a story about people changing. And they are aggressively screaming about reform and redemption these three episodes, so again, I would be very disappointed if the show did decide to include this.

While the reforms in the episode were weirdly presented as quasi-brainwashing, there were several times in the comic in which things like prison reform and changing how prisoners were handled were actually discussed in an interesting way so I'm hoping the show actually manages to keep that. Though at the end of the day, I never found Invincible's attempts at presenting multiple sides to a moral argument all that well done. But this IS a kick-punch universe and pretty much all problems are solved by kick-punching, and there is a point where I am just like 'yup. this is that kind of media and finding the line of where they could improve why they're kick-punching vs why are you kick punching this problem to begin with' can be wobbly.

Cecil's backstory wasn't altered in any way, and I get why a character like him is the way he is- but yeah, overall, there are basically not a lot of times where any other stances on hero'ing are really discussed. The narrative does ride real close to protagonist centered morality at times. Which is frustrating, because, no Mark, you just have no experience with this situation and no counter argument to what people are telling you!

When Eve quits heroing in the comics she goes to Africa, because this was the early 2000s and 'help people in Africa' was just what people said when they were going to do humanitarian work. What was she doing in Africa? Who knows. She was there. Very glad the show changed this. She also never went to college, so it'll be interesting to see where that story goes. Her entire kerfuffle in Chicago with the sink hole was also totally new to the show.

Of course, unless you were Mark, Allen, or Nolan, there was very little for you to do in the comics- so again, they're going to have to start adding stuff or things are going to get boring for a LOT of side characters fast.

God okay this got very long, if there was anything you were curious about that I missed let me know xD

[elen-tari2]

Finally got around to rewatching episode 4 of TPs2 and I just have to vent about my next complaint about how the writers handled the Frank and Amy relationship. (My first complaint being about the scene where Frank ties her to a motel bed and tapes her mouth shut while he takes a nap, but never once tells her he has absolutely no intention of SA’ing her)

Look, I know a lot of people dislike Amy because she’s such an over the top, angsty, tough teen trope, but I give her a pass on most of her plot-forced obnoxiousness. But I just can’t let Frank off the hook.

You’re telling me Frank Castle heard a kid crying from whatever horrible experience traumatized her and he just… turned up the volume on a hockey game?

SHAME. WRITER SHAME. SHAAAAAME.

Literally. What. The. F *CK?

This scene was done all wrong. Frank is an asshole but he protects innocent people from getting hurt. In that moment, the bratty teen is alone, dropping her tough girl act, and hurting. For all that she is a little shit, he has already —willing or unwillingly—decided to protect her, even if he doesn’t care that much about her. But the moment she’s breaking down, he would care enough to at least check on her.

He doesn’t even have to say much of anything. Amy has locked herself in Madani’s bedroom, so he can’t go in. But he would go sit with his back against the door and just be like, “hey, kid. You okay?”

The result could have been a much softer scene with Frank listening from outside the room and Amy talking to him from her hiding place until she feels safe enough to go unlock the door or maybe just try sleeping IN the bed instead of under it.

Instead what we got was a weirdly broken up scene where eventually I guess Amy is sleeping so Frank locks her in and goes to visit Curtis and it’s only upon his return that Amy realizes she was locked in at all and freaks out? So she is panicking and berating him to never do that again to her because it was also traumatizing to feel trapped like that. Not okay, Frank. So instead they finally talk about what happened to Amy but she’s still on the defensive, and Frank is pretty aggressive with his questioning about Fiona’s gang.

Then we get the sharing of their truths broken up even more, as Frank goes to take a shower and Amy leaves and goes to a computer store to google Frank Castle’s name. (I guess that was a clever way to use the Internet but it feels totally random. Or like, go to a library or something??)

Then she comes back and is like oh wow they killed your whole family. We don’t even get shown Frank’s reaction to coming out of the shower and thinking the kid ran off. Did he care? Or was he just like ::shrug:: not my problem anymore I guess? Just risked my life for this kid but I was such a jerk, she didn’t want my help, oh well?

It just seemed unnecessary to make the conversation where she talks about what she survived and tells Frank her real name chopped up into different parts throughout the episode. There was a chance for her to be vulnerable and realize she was safe around Frank no matter what, and they missed it. She could still be a smart alec, just she would also know he wouldn’t be dismissive of the horrible murders she witnessed and how scary that would be for a young person.

Think about how supportive Frank was to the small town police force in episode 3? He is respectful, encouraging, and knows they’re in over their heads but it’s not their fault. It’s not Amy’s fault she got in over her head and she needed some f*cking comfort and reassurance, when she was CRYING. I’m not saying he’d have hugged her or told her everything would be ok. But he would be a good listener and know she didn’t deserve to go through it.

Honestly having a tiny moment like that and THEN getting into stuff like her pulling card tricks on Frank would have been much better. They’d be back to their banter, but be starting to build towards that found family feeling, like we see over the rest of the show.

Ug, this is making me want to write a fan fic fixit for that episode. But I’m just putting this out there for future Punisher writers— Get. It. Right. Next. Time.

Clear your female characters treatment with female viewers. I’m serious. You have the potential to be writing GREAT stories, but missteps like this where Frank is uncaring in the face of an innocent (if annoying) child’s suffering is a no. Just no.