#okay so this isn't exactly uh. yeah. whatever.

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay? You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[sadnymi]

Alibi.

Slytherin boys x reader ( platonic) , Theodore Nott x reader ( not so platonic)

Summary: Summary: You accidentally got yourself involved in some Slytherin boys' drama.

I was deep in the forest, kneeling on a bed of pine needles, my hands clasped in prayer. The air was still, the only sound was the whispering of leaves above. I was right in the middle of asking for some divine intervention in my life when, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into me from behind.

I was flattened to the ground with a shriek, my thoughts of divinity abruptly replaced with panic. "Merlin's beard! What in the name of—" I twisted around, ready to fend off whatever forest creature had decided to tackle me.

But it wasn’t a creature. It was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins. And he was bleeding. Profusely.

He groaned, clutching his side. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry? You're bleeding all over me!" I squealed, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy and I was too flustered.

"Calm down, will you?" he said, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who looked like they'd been in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. "It's just a little blood."

"A little blood?" I shrieked again. "It looks like you were stabbed! Wait, were you stabbed?"

He winced. "Yeah, probably. Can you stop screaming? You're making my head hurt."

"Stop screaming? You literally fell out of nowhere, bleeding to death on top of me! Of course, I'm screaming!" I finally managed to wriggle out from under him, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Who did this to you?"

He groaned again, his face pale. "Don't know. Didn't exactly stop to ask."

I fumbled in my bag for my wand, hands shaking. "Okay, okay, just... just hold still. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding." I pointed my wand at his wound, but then my mind went blank. "Uh, what's the spell again?"

Theodore groaned, but this time it sounded more exasperated than pained. "Episkey. It's Episkey."

"Right, right," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "Episkey!" The wound didn't heal completely, but at least the bleeding stopped.

Just then, we heard a rustling in the bushes. I turned, ready to scream again, and out stumbled none other than Mattheo Riddle, his face splattered with blood.

I let out another scream, louder this time. "What is it with Slytherins and blood today?"

Theodore winced. "Can you stop screaming? You're going to attract every creature in this forest."

Mattheo, looking a mix of annoyed and amused, glanced between us. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? Why are you screaming?"

"That's what I want to know!" I said, throwing my hands up. "First, he crashes into me, bleeding all over, and now you show up looking like you’ve been in a bloodbath."

Theodore groaned again, trying to sit up. "Mattheo, could you do us a favor and not kill her with another heart attack? She's already a mess."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Calm down. This isn't my blood." He knelt beside Theodore, checking his wound. "How bad is it?"

Theodore waved him off. "Don't worry. The boy who did this is already dead. I killed him after he stabbed me."

My eyes went wide, and I started to hyperventilate. "You killed a boy? You actually killed someone? Oh my God, we're all going to Azkaban! I was just praying, and now I'm an accessory to murder! What if they find the body? What if they use Veritaserum on us? I can't go to Azkaban, I haven't even finished my O.W.L.s! Oh God, oh God, oh God—"

Theodore, clearly at the end of his patience, slapped his hand over my mouth. "Can you please stop talking for one minute? You're not helping."

I kept mumbling behind his hand, my eyes wide with panic. He glared at me. "Why can't you just shut up for once?" He looked at Mattheo. "A little help here?"

Mattheo smirked, watching the scene unfold. "You seem to have it under control, Theo."

"Seriously," Theodore grumbled, pulling his hand away. "We're in the middle of a forest, I'm bleeding, and she's having a meltdown about Azkaban. Can this day get any worse?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I was just praying for some divine intervention, not a bloody crime scene!"

"Well, you got it," Theodore said dryly. "Now help me up, and let's get out of here before something else happens."

As we struggled to get Theodore to his feet, I couldn't help but mutter a quick prayer under my breath. "Please, if anyone's listening, just get us out of this mess."

Theodore chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Just as we managed to get Theodore to his feet, the forest seemed to come alive with movement.

From the shadows emerged a group of masked men, all dressed in ominous black cloaks. My heart sank. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Theodore groaned. "What now?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed. "This day just keeps getting better."

I had a full-blown breakdown. "Who are they? What do they want? Why is this happening?" I shrieked, clutching Theodore's arm as the masked men closed in.

The leader of the group, his voice muffled by the mask, pointed at me. "Grab the girl!"

I promptly hid behind Theodore, using him as a human shield. "Why me? I don’t even know what’s going on! I was just praying! Praying! I didn't ask for this! Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything! I'm not important! I was just trying to—"

The leader looked slightly puzzled. "You must be important if you're here."

"What?" I spluttered. "No, this is just some weird punishment because I sneaked out of Hogwarts! I was having a terrible week and needed some divine intervention, so I came to the forest to pray for guidance and peace and—"

"I don't give a fuck," the leader snapped, gesturing to his men. "Grab her!"

The masked men advanced, and Theodore stepped in front of me. "No one will touch her," he said, his wand raised despite his injury.

Mattheo mirrored his stance, wand also at the ready.

I peeked out from behind Theodore, still rambling. "Seriously, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just praying because I failed my Potions test, and Professor Snape looked like he wanted to turn me into a newt, and then my cat got sick, and I just needed some clarity in my life, so I thought, 'Why not go to the forest and pray?' But then Theo crashed into me, bleeding everywhere, and now you guys show up looking like Death Eaters on a budget! This is just a cosmic joke, right?"

The leader looked exasperated. "Shut her up."

One of the masked men tried to grab me, but Theodore and Mattheo both fired off stunning spells, sending the attacker flying back.

Theodore turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes serious. "You need to stop talking now."

I nodded, clamping my mouth shut, but my mind was still racing. "This has to be some kind of punishment," I whispered. "Why else would this be happening? Maybe I angered a forest spirit or something."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Or maybe it's just bad luck. Now, please, stay quiet and let us handle this."

The leader, looking frustrated, signaled for the rest of his men to attack. "Get them all!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently. "Please, let this be over soon. And if we survive, I promise I'll never sneak out of Hogwarts again. Or pray in the forest. Or—"

Before I could finish my desperate plea, a figure appeared from the shadows and stabbed the leader in the chest. The leader collapsed, revealing none other than Lorenzo Berkshire, better known as Enzo, looking out of breath and slightly bewildered.

"Sorry, guys," Enzo panted, wiping the dagger on his sleeve. "There was this dragon—well, maybe it was a big bird. Hard to tell in the dark.“

Mattheo and Theodore wasted no time, seizing the moment of confusion. They grabbed the nearest masked men and swiftly dispatched them with a combination of spells and physical blows. The remaining attackers fled into the darkness, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as their leader.

Enzo, looking around at the chaos, spotted me and raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Is this Y/N from Charms class? What are you doing out here?"

Before I could launch into my explanation, Theodore sighed and muttered, "Here we go again."

"I was just praying," I began "Well, I had the worst week ever. First, I failed my Potions test, then my cat got sick, and I just thought maybe if I could get some peace in the forest—"

Theo turned looked me dead in the eyes then slapped his hand over my mouth, his expression one of exasperated patience. "I swear, if I hear one more word about praying or forest spirits... or Potions tests or your cat, I'm going to lose it."

I gazed up at him, ready to argue, but then something struck me. His eyes. They were a striking shade of blue, filled with intensity and a hint of something softer, something...beautiful. I blinked, momentarily speechless.

Enzo, clearly amused by the whole situation, leaned over to Mattheo. "Is she always like this?"

Mattheo smirked. "Pretty much."

Theodore, still holding his hand over my mouth, looked at me with a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place. I nodded slowly, my panic subsiding slightly as I got lost in those mesmerizing eyes.

Finally, Theodore removed his hand, and I took a deep breath, determined not to start rambling again. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank Merlin," Theodore muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Enzo clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we've got that sorted, how about we get out of this forest before any more dragons show up?"

As we started to move, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Enzo, there's no dragon out there, you idiot!"

Enzo turned to me. "And how do you know that?"

"Because dragons don't just wander around the Forbidden Forest chasing random students!" I snapped. "They’re kept in the Dragon Reserve, or did you sleep through that part of Care of Magical Creatures?"

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what about that time Hagrid smuggled a baby dragon into his hut? Ever thought about that?"

I scoffed. "That was a one-time thing! And it wasn't even a fully-grown dragon, it was a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling! There's a huge difference!"

Enzo crossed his arms, a playful smirk on his face. "Well, maybe it was an escaped Ridgeback, then. You can't rule out the possibility."

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Escaped Ridgeback? Do you hear yourself? The chances of running into a dragon in the middle of the night are practically zero! You're more likely to find a Blast-Ended Skrewt out here than a dragon!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Theodore swiftly grabbed me and pulled me away. I couldn't help but look at his strong, albeit bloody, hand on my waist, leaving a bloodstain on my skirt.

As I glanced from his hand up to his face, I couldn't resist commenting, "You've got a pretty good grip for someone who was just stabbed."

Enzo and Mattheo burst into laughter, and Theodore shot them a deadly look. They quieted down, though still wearing amused expressions.

Theodore leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "You will not say a word about what you saw tonight, understood?"

His proximity made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. Dirty thoughts flitted through my mind, and I mentally pleaded, Please, God, I didn't mean to have them. You shouldn't have made him that pretty if you didn't want me to have them.

"Y/N," Theodore said, his voice breaking through my reverie. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yes. No talking about tonight. Got it."

He brushed the dust from my shirt and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sent a shiver down my spine.

"You two need a moment alone, or can we get moving now?" Mattheo said.

Theodore shot him another glare. "We're moving."

Enzo, called after us. "Hey, Y/N, if you see a dragon on the way back, be sure to let me know!"

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "If I see a dragon, I'll make sure it eats you first!"

[cutebat]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

What's Next?

Warning(s): Yandere themes, past neglect, a lot of swearing, stealing, violence, mentions of bribery

(This is where now you can pick your own choices in this series, so this isn't technically a chapter)

~~~~~

Two weeks went by quickly, thank God.

You arrived at school as how you could have if it wasn't for Bruce ruining your fucking break by making you spend time with the rest of the family.

You were forced to watch movies that made no sense due to its plot or whatever and went shopping, only for them to buy you things that you didn't like that all. Like, who still buys and wears things that could cause a whole closet clutter.

The worst part of all this is that Damian has to walk you everywhere around the school, except for using the restroom. Even worse is that Bruce changed your entire schedule to you having teachers who love to fuck you over. Because of this, you can't skip anymore!

Anyway, the day quickly went by, and now it was break time. As you two walked into the cafeteria, you spot your two basically only normal and only friends, Noelle and Sasha.

"(name)! There you are...-"

Noelle calls out to you before her smile slowly flattered when she spots Damian beside you.

"What is he doing here?"

She whispers to you that made you roll your eyes.

This made Damian narrow his eyes down at the two of them.

"Do you have a problem with me being here?"

He asks with a snarl that made your friends cringe a bit.

"(name)..."

Sasha mutters out to you that made you sigh.

"No, no... Damian, they're cool, don't worry."

You reassure him that luckily made him calm down.

"Oh, alright then. Come now, sister. We need to find a table."

Damian tells you which made you feel annoyed.

"Oh, uh, actually. I need to get my water bottle. I left it in my locker, so..."

You try to make an excuse to get out of here.

"No worries, I can go get it for you."

Damian said as he turns around.

"Wait, you don't know my combination!"

You call out of realization.

"I'll figure it out."

He calls back as he leaves the cafeteria.

You and your friends stayed where you were in silence.

"Isn't this great?"

You speak up out of sarcastically as you sit down with them.

"(name), what are you doing with that guy?"

Sasha asks as she takes a bite of her pudding.

"Being stuck by his side for the whole day and the entire Christmas break?"

"No, why are you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, god, don't be a bitch over this. I know he's such a pain in the ass, but I can tolerate him, okay?"

"No, we're not jealous or anything, he's actually fucking insane, (name)!"

Noelle tells you

"Insane like how?"

You ask as you cross your arms.

"Sent many guys to the infirmary, punched a guy in the throat earlier, nearly set a teacher's car on fire."

Noelle said as she started to list down all the things that Damian did.

"Wait, so all of this happened in one day?"

You ask with your eyes wide a little.

"Yeah."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I have two classes and a passing period with him."

At that moment, a guy with a neck cast walked up to your table.

"Were you guys just talking to Damian?"

He asks the three of you.

"Yeah."

Sasha mutters out.

"I hate him. He literally punched me in the throat during gym and didn't even apologize to me or get expelled. I'm pretty sure he paid off the headmaster or something."

He said with his eyes furrowed that meant he was pissed.

"See?"

Noelle mutters to you.

"Hold on, why did he exactly punch you for?"

You ask out of curiosity.

"Cause I said that you were pretty hot and told him that he was a wimp about it or something."

He said as he rubs his cast.

"Still sound normal to you?"

Noelle asks you.

"Oh, come on. That's like one of the things that's like the less worse things."

You tell her.

"'Less worse'?! I was passed out for like half an hour!"

The guy said in a defensive tone.

"Dude, that sounds like a you problem."

You tell him with a bored expression.

"Oh... Shit hurts."

Sasha said with a chuckle.

"Fuck you, guys... Stupid bitches..."

The guy mutters out as he walks away from you and your friends.

"Anyway, what can I do about all of this?"

You ask as you place your chin on the palm of your hand.

"Honestly, I don't know. You're pretty much on your own, (name)."

Noelle said as she takes a sip of her honey milk.

"What? You guys aren't going to help me?"

"We want to, but we don't know how."

"Please? Like actually, please. I have no idea what to do and I don't even know how to get away from all this."

You tell your friends in a slight pleading tone.

Noelle and Sasha gave each other a glance before they stare back at you.

"Okay, fine. As much as we don't know either, we'll try whatever we can, okay?"

Sasha said as she sets her pudding cup down.

"What are you exactly going to do now, (name)?"

Noelle asks in a soft tone with a soft gaze on her face

~~~~~

Go to your next class (Coming soon)

Skip until the end of the day with your friends (Coming soon)

Go home with your friends

•

•

•

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(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[empresskylo]

ೃ⁀➷ call of duty incorrect quotes

⋆｡°✩ all featuring gn!reader insert ⋆｡°✩ AUTHOR'S NOTE | hopefully these aren't cringey lol, i pulled most of them from pinterest. i just thought they'd be fun. let me know if you'd want to see more.

cod masterlist | main masterlist

soap: *bursts into the room, starts panicking* ghost: you: ghost: what happened? soap: no one died you: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER–

gaz: have you heard the joke about the gaslighter? soap: no... gaz: no, you definitely have. soap: no I haven't. gaz: you've literally heard it before. soap: no i haVEN'T gaz: yes you have soap: I DON'T KNOW IT?!? gaz: you're crazy, man. ghost: *hiding his smirk* you: *giggling beside ghost*

soap: I just fell– you: from heaven? soap: no, like I literally just fell– you: in love with me? soap: my fucKING ARM IS BROKEN you: okay, but do you think i'm pretty? be honest.

you: i sleep with a dagger under my pillow. gaz: weak. I sleep with a gun. ghost: you're both pathetic. you: oh?? and what do you sleep with? ghost: soap. you: *spits out drink*

you: what are you, 5? konig [snorts]: yeah, 5 heads taller than you. you: konig: konig: I'm sorry, please don't kill me.

you [on the phone]: uh... price? price [tired]: is the base on fire? you: well...no? price: then it's not an emergency price: *hangs up* gaz: WHAT DID HE SAY? you: he said it's not an emergency. soap [pinned under a cabinet that ghost and alejandro are trying to get off him]: HOW IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY

ghost: i invited you into the woods because I crave the most dangerous game. you and soap [both nodding]: knife monopoly. ghost: i was actually going to hunt you for sport but now i'm interested in whatever the fuck knife monopoly is.

ghost: *is carrying all the groceries* you: *holds out a hand to help* ghost: *aggressively moves all the groceries to one hand to hold your hand*

you: can you keep a secret? ghost: do you know anything about my life? you: no, i do not. good point.

[you and ghost texting] you: where are you? ghost: turn around ghost: no the other way ghost: wrong way again you: ghost, where exactly are you?? ghost: at base, but the thought of you turning aimlessly in circles amuses me.

soap: go big or go home! you [tears in your eyes]: i am begging you, soap. for once in your life, go home. please. just this once. go home. ghost: *nods in agreement* soap: i'm going big!

soap: hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? you: peonies, why? soap: you: were you going to get me flowers? soap: you: soap: it's a possibility...

you: why are you smiling? price: what? can't I just be happy? soap: gaz tripped and fell in the parking lot.

ghost: i wish i could block people in real life. you: restraining order. soap: murder. gaz: jesus fucking chr–

you: so you don't have a thing for anyone at the moment? soap: well... i didn't say that. you: oh. what's she like then? soap: you're just gonna assume they're a 'she'? you: are they– you: are they not a girl? soap: *gay panic*

ghost: i made tea. you: i don't want tea. ghost: i didn't make tea for you. this is my tea. you: then why are you telling me? ghost: it's a conversation starter. soap [looking between you two, confused] you: that's not really a conversation starter. ghost: oh, it isn't? we're conversing, aren't we? checkmate. you [scoffing]: well it's a lousy one then. ghost: never said it wasn't. you: *looking at soap* soap: *looking at you*

price: what does 'take out' mean? alejandro: food. gaz: dating. soap: murder. you: it can mean all three if you're not a coward. ghost: soap: gaz: price: you: what?

ghost: look, i know you think my judgment is clouded because i like soap a little bit. you [holding ghost's notepad]: you doodled your wedding invitations. ghost: no, that's our joint tombstone. you: oh, right, my mistake.

konig: hello, welcome to our first debrief. konig: today we're talking about... you [whispering]: building loyalty. konig: killing royalty. you [under your breath]: oh my god.

ghost: i am a very bad person. very very bad person. i am a horrible person. soap: you: gaz: ghost: "no you're not, ghost! we still love you, ghost!"

[bugisastranger]

hey babe 🩷 if you have the time or inspiration to write please consider fake dating to lovers with Clark Kent, like a to all the boys I’ve loved before typa situation

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! sorry it took me a bit to get around to it - i can be a busy busy gal.

"you want me to what?"

clark's voice is unlike anything you'd ever heard from him, his shock nothing less than apparent. you shush him, looking around the hallway to see if anyone's noticed. it's lucky for you that nobody did.

"come on, clark. it's one night! not even! it's like, a few hours at most."

"can't you ask someone else? pete?"

"i don't want to ask pete. he won't be able to sell it."

"and you think i can?" he's exasperated, leaning closer to you as if he's suddenly aware how many people could overhear this conversation. "i'm a horrible liar."

"please? you know how my family can be," you whisper, looking up at clark. he sighs, hanging his head. he does know how your family can be—overbearing—which is exactly why he's hesitant. but you're you, so how can he actually say no?

"okay. okay, fine."

"really?" you ask, nearly jumping out of your skin. your arms slide around clark's neck as you excitedly let out a few small 'thank you's. clark's still frozen in place from his decision, but forces one of his arms to slide awkwardly around your hip. he's in for it, isn't he?

the ringing of the school bell pulls the two of you apart, and you quickly shut your locker, making your way towards your first class. clark keeps his place beside you. "so, what does this mean, exactly? what do you want from me?"

"jeez, clark, that sounds like i'm holding you hostage. it's just a favor."

"yeah, yeah. whatever. what do you need me to do?" he asks, taking his seat next to you at the lab table.

"i don't know. whatever feels natural," you say, bending to the side to pull your textbook out of your bag, a gesture which clark never would've took a second glance at. but today, with your hair falling in front of your face (and then you pushing it away), something's different. he doesn't even notice he forgot to say something in response to you until you glance back at him, confused at his silence.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "how am i supposed to know what's natural? we've never dated before." oops. overly sarcastic.

"have you never even considered it?"

"what?" clark's baffled by your question, but you ask it so casually, like it's not taking the ground out from beneath his feet. it's not that he hasn't considered it. it's that he has. he knows all too well how he wants to walk with his arm around your shoulders, how he wants to have you cuddle into his side as you watch a movie, how he wants to absolutely spoil you—as if he has the money for that anyway. "i—"

"you know what? forget i said that. i don't wanna know," you mutter. "just, like, pretend like you're obsessed with me, i don't know."

"hey, lovebirds! you done?" the teacher calls from the front of the classroom.

as clark starts, "oh, we're n—"

you say, "sorry! we're sorry." and then the both of you, red in your faces, stay silent. you barely even move, feeling reprimanded, even though your teacher was barely offended.

when the teacher lets the class work in pairs, clark decides to use the time to talk to you instead. he could do the work later. "can you just give me an idea of what the night's going to look like, at least?"

you take a quick glance at the teacher, making sure her eyes aren't on you and clark. "you'll come over and i'll introduce you as my boyfriend. my parents won't be suspicious, because i'll start bringing it up today. and they won't be too intimidating. my uncle might, but they'll love you. there's something about you that screams 'good guy' and they'll pick up on it." you twirl the pen in your hands. "it'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about, really." clark feels his heart skip a beat when you place your hand on his bicep—which is supposed to be a comforting gesture. what's happening to him? you've touched him before. plenty of times, actually. this shouldn't mean a thing.

a few days later, and clark is taking deep breaths as he walks down the path to your front door. before he can even meet the porch, you're outside, greeting him. he nearly stops in his tracks when he sees you, your hair half up, half down. the dress you're wearing is baby pink, and something about this sight—seeing you so... girly does something to him, even if he won't admit it.

"hi," you say, breaking the awkward silence. "ignore the dress, i'm trying something a little different."

"no, it's good. you look great," he forces. and then, he remembers he's supposed to be your boyfriend, he's allowed to flirt with you. "you look really pretty." he swears he sees your expression change, like you're nervous. it makes his hand tense, and he nearly crushes the stems of the flowers he forgot he's holding. "oh, these are for you."

"thank you. this is..."

"good enough, i hope?"

"better. i knew you wouldn't let me down."

"can't leave my girlfriend hanging, can i?" oh. oh. that gets you. and clark knows it, too.

"uh—" you start, looking at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and infatuation. "we should go inside."

and as you're walking towards your front door—"i should call you something, shouldn't i?"

"what?" you turn back around, facing him.

"honey," he tries. "no, too mature. babe?" clark watches your reactions carefully, and even though you seem affected, 'babe' doesn't have the punch he was hoping for. "sweetheart?" bingo.

"sweetheart is fine," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your face heats up.

"okay, sweetheart. you ready for this?" you nod, walking towards the door with clark at your side. "what about princess?"

"too much. you can't call me that in front of my family."

"but i can call you that when we're alone?"

"clark!"

"it's just a question, sweetheart," clark teases, fighting back a chuckle. he could do this the rest of his life.

part two coming soon?!

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 22 || The Anime References

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, smut, & a teeny-weeny drop of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.9k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——GOJO SATORU WAS ALMOST TOO stunned to speak. He knows he just gave you his consent to do whatever you want but he was not mentally prepared for you to request such a thing.

Since when were you into that kinda stuff? Have you always been? Why do you even want to tie him up? So many questions run through his mind after your words hit his ears.

Nonetheless, his answer is a quick, "Sure." Then, he swallows down a deep sum of air to collect himself, "But uh... can I ask why you want to tie me up?"

You smile and lean away from his face, moving your hands over his arms and slowly pulling them off your body, "Cause' I know how much you like touching me." You explain.

Gojo smirks slightly, "So then, is this your form of punishment or somethin'?"

His arms are drawn off of you completely before you move them over his head again, crossing his wrists over one another and holding them there. "Yeah," You whisper, kissing him on the cheek, "After all, you said I could use you."

Gojo chuckles, "R-Right..."

With a smile, you lift yourself from sitting on him and carefully get off the bed. You didn't have the whole thing planned out or anything and you were just going to go with the flow based on how you felt. Gojo stayed put, arms up over his head, watching you walk around your dim room in search of something.

After a couple of minutes, you find a strip of abandoned ribbon that'd come off of one of your dresses some time ago. It was long enough to wrap around his wrists and you already knew he wasn't going to try breaking out of it so it's not like you needed something extremely strong.

The silky fabric of the ribbon was bright baby blue, the color ironically matching Gojo. You chuckle at the irony as you head back over to him and move to straddle his body once more.

Gojo watches with wide eyes as you hold yourself up and tie his wrists together above his head. You decide to knot the ribbon into a pretty little bow, smiling at the cuteness of it despite what you plan on doing.

"Pretty color," Gojo comments quietly.

"It's not too tight, is it?" You question just in case.

He tries to part his wrists from one another and then shakes his head, "Nope, it's perfect." He then looks up into your eyes, "But y'know... we should establish a safe word just in case."

You blink, almost embarrassed that you didn't think of that after being the one to suggest this entire thing. "Right uhm... well, you're the one tied up so..."

Gojo glances off to the side to think, taking only a few seconds before he shrugs, "Red."

You gradually ease yourself down from standing on your knees to sit on his lap again, "Red?"

"Mhm..." Gojo hums.

"So if I get too rough or..." Your voice softens, "If you grow uncomfortable..."

"I'll say red."

A sigh is let out from you as you shut your eyes and begin to worry, "Are you sure you're okay with this-"

"Sweetheart, what part of my body is nothing more than a tool for you, did you not understand?" Gojo cuts off, the look in his eyes serious.

You understood it perfectly well but, you were hesitant since using someone isn't exactly something you're fond of-- after all, you're not him. With a sigh, you give him a nod and ease yourself back into your mindset.

A little more small talk occurs as you make sure he's not uncomfortable, having never done this kind of thing before and wanting to be safe. It's only his wrists tied up but you can't help but feel anxious anyways.

Gojo assures you with gentle whispers, telling you over and over that you can use him as you see fit and he tries his best to talk you through all of your worried questions.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you finally grow comfortable with the situation again, your lips are right back on his.

It's a heated kiss this time and Gojo quickly regrets allowing you to tie him up. There was so much precum leaking from his cock that he could feel the slight mess he was of himself within his boxers. He didn't expect to get this turned on by being restricted but he was.

Each time you pulled away from his lips to breathe, Gojo would chase after you desperately, never wanting the kiss to end. He's so clearly not used to being the one with no control so it takes him some time to get used to it.

It's cute how he pushes himself forward to meet your lips once more, how he lets out quiet whines every time you kiss him passionately or aggressively, and so very sexy how he'll groan into your mouth every time you roll your hips and grind against his cock.

His head tilts in the opposite direction of yours, teeth moving to tug on your lower lip in an attempt of keeping you close to him. You end up prying away from his mouth anyway, another messy string of saliva keeping the two of you connected.

Your hands slide down the man's body while the two of you pant for lost air and you soon grab ahold of the bottom of his t-shirt, quickly working the item up and over his head. It's discarded before you start touching his abs and feeling him tense up beneath you.

Your lips make contact with his neck and Gojo groans again, "Fuck," He breathes.

You begin to suck on the area just under his jaw and watch the way he squirms beneath you, his movement making you grin.

"S-Shit." Gojo chokes out, "Not there-, agh..."

You pull away slightly, "Hm? Why?"

He's glad you aren't looking at his face right now because it's bright red, embarrassment overwhelming him before he utters out the words, "T-That's..." Gojo's voice gets smaller, "Where I'm weak-"

You cut him off by sucking on the area he's referring to, hearing the way he moans softly and feeling how his cock twitches beneath you.

"G-God-," Gojo choked, tipping his head further back and allowing you more space to kiss him, despite being overly sensitive.

Your mouth works to leave a dark mark on the male's pale skin, sliding down to kiss and nibble on other parts of his neck before you consider yourself satisfied.

When your head pulls away from his neck, you move to take the sweater he gave you off. Gojo's eyes widen as he sees your body for the first time after so long, quickly noticing faint love marks and bitemarks in various places.

Choso had quite literally left his mark on you after the multiple times you slept with him, hickeys decorating different parts of your torso. Hell, there's even a bite mark on your shoulder that Gojo notices.

Clearly, you'd slept with Choso more times than you told Gojo you did. That fact quickly makes the man beneath you so very jealous. He doesn't even care if he shouldn't feel that way-- seeing visual evidence of you with someone else makes his heart hurt.

As if he wasn't the one who forced you to do so anyway...

You grin at how Gojo's eyes go from one mark to another, happy to show evidence of you receiving pleasure from someone who isn't him. And what makes it better is that he knows it's Choso who left these marks on you, having been aware that you never let anyone else leave anything on you.

Even so, the marks on your body are in the act of fading away since it's been some time since you've been with Choso.

"Gojo," You whisper, earning a glance from the male.

"H-Hm?" He hums. His face was so flushed and his entire body felt like it was on fire, "Yes ma'am?" He utters in response.

Even his voice was affected by all the kissing and taunting, now having a raspy little pitch to it.

"You said you missed me, right?" You ask as you move your hands behind your back and unclip your bra.

Gojo doesn't miss the way you sensually take the item off, allowing your breasts to spill out in front of him. The sight only makes his dick throb violently beneath you.

"Mhm," Gojo ends up humming in response to you.

You tilt your head before lifting yourself up a little, your hand moving down to his sweats, "Tell me what you missed about me."

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to do so, words falling off his tongue immediately when your hand touches his bulge. "Hah... A-Alright," Gojo breathes out.

Your eyes are on him while you soon work his bottoms off. Gojo struggles to begin when your hand goes into his boxers and you work his cock out, length slapping against his abdomen. You can't help but smile at the sight of his wet member, eyeing the precum oozing out of his tip and slipping down along his shaft.

Saliva builds up in your mouth as you stare, pulse after pulse felt from in between your legs.

"I-I uhm..." Gojo inhales sharply, "Fuck, where do I even start?" He chuckles wearily.

Your eyes are glued down to his dick, bottom lip getting caught in between your teeth as you move only your index finger to roll around his tip. "Wherever you want," You reply.

Gojo tries lifting his hips into your touch, "Shit, okay... I missed your face," He begins, swallowing down any sounds of his that threaten to pour out. "Y-Your voice... Hah, I really missed your voice..." He emphasizes.

"Awwh... go on..." You taunt, moving to toy with his erection by giving him only one gentle stroke.

"Mmgh... U-Uh, your-" You suddenly spit down onto his tip, causing Gojo to straight up whine. "A-Ah... your mouth, fucking hell..." He groaned throughout his little noise.

Your body is seated slightly on his thighs as you begin to torture him by slowly jerking him off. "My mouth?" You echo.

"Mhm," He whines again, "M-Missed feelin' you too."

"Yeah?" You say cooingly.

Gojo feels the way your hand squeezes his tip and he can't help the moan that leaves him, "O-Oh fuuuck." He shuts his eyes and tries lifting his hips into your hold.

You smirk, "You're weak here too, huh?" Your words were said to mock his earlier statement, clearly making him worse beneath you.

"Only when you touch me t-there..." Gojo almost whimpers, "I'm only w-weak for you..."

You rotate your palm around his tip while stroking his length, feeling yourself soak at the state you've reduced this man to. "Really? What's so special about me?" You whisper.

"E-Everything," Gojo choked, his jaw dropping in reaction to your hand movements, "Fuckin' everything, I swear..."

"Mmh..." You hum lightly.

Your hand gives him one last pull before you remove it from his cock, causing Gojo to tip his head back and pant. You move to simply pull your panties to the side, now feeling so needy for friction.

The man beneath you almost cums when you simply hover over him, maneuvering his cock to rub in between your wet folds.

"F-Fuck," Gojo curses, "P-Put it in... Please, fuck I c-can't take this..." He begs desperately.

You smile and ignore him, just barely pressing yourself down and not even allowing his tip to enter you. Instead, you drag him against your sex over and over, the sensation dizzying you with arousal as his needy tip slips over your clit.

"Hah... What?" You ask as if you didn't hear him the first time.

"Please put it in," Gojo whined, "Needa' be inside you s'fucking b-bad..." He slurs out, his eyes watering.

His expression is so desperate for you, the sight only adding to how wet you are. You continue your teasing anyway, rolling your hips in a circle around his tip, "Beg a little more and maybe I'll put in."

"Ha-ah... S'that what you want?" Gojo scoffs heavily, "W-Want me to fuckin' beg?"

Technically, he already was begging but you thrived off hearing him like this.

"C'mon... a-at least the tip?" Gojo pleads, "Please?"

You clench around nothing due to the sound of his voice. "One more time f'me." You utter.

"P-Please." Gojo moans, "Pleease, fuck..." His eyes are so teary and he's simply hazed with lust and desperation, "Please-, a-ahh... please let me be inside y-you." He whimpers.

You quickly folded under the sound of his begging. Gojo has never been so whiny and needy like this for you before so you found yourself a complete mess in between your legs, liquids from your arousal dripping down onto his cock.

"You're not gonna cum inside me as soon as I put it in, are you?" You ask him, tilting your head.

He knows he wants to and it'll be difficult not to do such a thing when he's already leaking like crazy. "M-Mhm..." He hums.

You start to lower yourself, allowing his tip to just barely push into you, "Words." You order.

He smiles, just barely, "...N-No promises," Gojo sighs, "Aagh... feels l-like I'm gonna cum right now..."

You frown, "C'mon now, don't disappoint me..."

"I'll h-hold it..." He breathes, "Just... please, just fuck me."

Your eyes skim over his flushed expression, seeing how his chest rises and falls rapidly due to his heavy breathing. His teary blue eyes are stuck on your face, refusing to look down at your actions.

"You're so cute like this, y'know..." You sigh, trying not to moan while you finally sink a mere inch down onto him.

"Mmmh... A-Am I?" He hums.

You nod, your gaze diving back down to your actions as you see how much of his cock you have left to sit yourself down on. You'd forgotten how lengthy the male is, swallowing nervously while you look at the sight below.

You're worried you may not be able to keep up this dominant act of yours. You continue anyway, sliding down inch by inch until you get about halfway. Gojo's eyes flicker and his lips remain parted.

You look him dead in the eyes and purposefully clench around his length, watching the way he literally chokes on air.

"Oh c-c'monn... y-you can't expect me not to cum when you..." His jaw drops and a heavy breath leaves his throat, "f-fuckin' squeeze around me like that..."

An innocent smile graces your face, "If you cum without my permission, I'm only gonna make things worse for you."

"I w-won't." Gojo says, "You're jus' makin' it hard for me not to."

You chuckle slightly at him in response before adjusting yourself. Leaning back, you move both of your hands behind you to hold your body up and then sit yourself all the way down on his dick. Gojo moans all too loudly in relief, the sound filling the air of your room.

One of your hands flies back in front of you as you place your hand over his mouth. "You're so noisy," You point out, your voice coming out softer than you would've liked. "Be quieter f'me..."

Gojo shakes his head, knowing won't be able to. "Can't," He just barely mumbles out beneath your skin.

You feel him whine against your hand, his breath warm against you. "Yes you cannn." You whisper encouragingly, "C'mon Gojo..."

He shakes his head for a second time and closes his eyes, pressing his lips into your hand and kissing you. "C-Can you call me Satoru? P-Please," He begs desperately.

You sigh, "Promise not to be too loud 'nd maybe I will."

Gojo suddenly licks your hand and just barely opens his eyes, his pretty eyelashes moist with the way he was on the verge of pleasureful tears. "I promise," He breathes out, his lips moving against your palm, "P-Promise not to be loud..."

You retreat your hand from his mouth, "Alright then..."

Your arm moves behind you once more, leaning yourself back before you roll your hips forward and feel the way his cock twitches inside you. This is the type of sex you expected to have last night-- the type of sex you needed.

You pick up a steady rhythm of grinding over Gojo with the tip of his dick nice and snug up against your cervix without him having to do much. The male grits his teeth and his eyes flicker as you begin to ride him slowly. He tries to keep his gaze on your face, watching the way your lips part and you moan ever so slightly.

Your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth as you struggle a little to keep your noises in. Feeling his cockhead knock around your insides, sliding against your walls in all the right ways is only dizzying you with pleasure.

Gojo was able to keep himself from looking at the entire lewd sight in front of him up until he saw your arm move in his peripherals. His eyes mistakenly drop down to the movement and he watches as you move two fingers over your clit, his breath hitching at the sight.

He wishes he could've done that for you instead but given the restraints, all he can do is watch you satisfy yourself and feel the way your wam cunt clenches around his girth. "Fuck," He curses under his breath.

Your hips suddenly lift a little and then ease back down, giving both of you more pleasure than expected. You moan a bit more than you expected yourself to and Gojo... he almost blew his load.

His head rests against the headboard and his eyes roll back, "W-Warn me next time b-before you-," His words are cut off as you ignore him and simply repeat your action, lifting yourself up and easing right back down. Gojo whimpers again, as quietly as he possibly can, "M'gonna c-cum..."

You lean forward and pull yourself almost all the way up, only his tip left inside you, and then drop yourself right back down. "N-Not yet," You stammer out to him.

Nothing you prepare him for the struggle he begins to face as you start bouncing on his cock. Every time he feels your soaked walls slide back down on his cock, he swears he's another second close to spilling his seed inside you. And of course, you make it worse by moving to messily kiss his exposed neck.

Gojo's arms twitch within the restraints, wanting nothing more than to move you away from his neck for just a second. "Fu-uck... p-please..." He begs, not even knowing what exactly what he's begging for.

You continue your movements, using your muscles to ride his cock and please yourself. Your breath is warm against his neck as you eagerly rub two fingers over your clit, "Mmgh... f-fuck... please what, Satoru?" You moan softly.

The aggressive twitching of his cock is felt as you question him. Gojo lets out another whine, the sound going straight to your core. "L-Let me c-cum..." He moans, sudden tears rolling down his cheeks.

No one has ever made him feel like this before. He's not sure if it was the restraints, the way you kisses, nibbled, and sucked on his neck, the way you rode his dick or the way you said his name but, Gojo was losing his mind trying not to release.

You move to that sensitive spot right under his jaw and suck at his skin before speaking against it, "...Lemme hear you b-beg again," You stammer slightly. It was difficult for you to speak one hundred percent properly with how deep inside you his cock reached.

"H-Hhnngh.... P-Please..." Gojo croaks out, "Please let me cum... c-can't hold it anymore... please... I-I'll do anything, fuuuuck... please."

You moan against his neck as his words go straight to your pussy, causing you to only clench around him even more. "A-Anything?" You smile slightly.

Gojo sucks in a deep breath, the sound close to a sniffle, "Yes. Any-, ngh... t-thing..." He sighs.

You move to his ear, "Delete the video of me."

He shakes his head, "I already d-did..." Gojo finally tells you.

That information makes your cunt throb for some reason as if the sound of freedom from that stupid list turned you on. "L-Liar," You huff out, not yet fully believing him.

"M'not lying..." Gojo suddenly sniffles, tears of struggling pleasure rolling down his cheeks, "D-Deleted it a long-, ah... t-time ago...."

You lean away from his ear and slow your pace a little, staring into his teary eyes. "Mmgh... really?"

He nods, "Mhm..."

Your arms wrap around his neck and you near his lips while humping him slowly, the pleasure making your eyes flicker. He wasn't the only one who was close. "So... hah, are you finally l-letting me go?" You whisper.

One of your hands slides up into his hair, feeling his white strands in between your fingers. Gojo shakes his head, "C-Could never let you go, sweetheart." He claims, not exactly referring to the list anymore.

You swallow and furrow your brows, your gaze traveling between his left and right eyes in search of an explanation, "Fuck... What do you mean?"

He pants, letting the desperation for his release and his emotions get the absolute best of him. Gojo unintentionally peers up into your eyes longingly, choking out something all too emotional, "I love you too much to do that..." He cries out, the look in his eyes completely serious and vulnerable.

Your jaw drops and your hips stutter in movement, "W-What?"

"I love you," Gojo repeats, swallowing afterward, "L-Love you s'much..."

"Satoru..." You flash him a confused look, "Y-You don't mean th-that..."

He nods his head, his eyes struggling to remain on yours, "I do. I s-swear, m'so in love with you-, fuck..."

You breathe out a heavy pant, trying to wrap your head around his sudden confession. There is absolutely no way your blackmailer is in love with you. Surely he's just saying this because he... maybe he's confused? He can't love you, it doesn't make sense.

Gojo leans forward and kisses you, breaking you away from your panicked thoughts, "C-Can I... ha-ah, nngh... Can I..." He trails off, struggling to voice his request.

You know what he wants anyway so you simply nod, permitting him to finally release. Gojo's eyes roll all the way back as he finally cums inside you with an unintentionally loud groan.

You're still stunned by his confession, a mixture of confusion and arousal fighting within your mind. Part of you is too into the moment to really process what he said but the other part of you was just left in disbelief.

Something inside you feels all mushy and you unconsciously voice out a soft, "Can you say it again?"

You can still feel him releasing into you, painting your insides white with his seed while you continue. "I-I love you," Gojo stammers, his eyes slowly going back into place.

"Mmgh... Y-Yeah?" You smile for some reason and reach your orgasm unexpectedly.

There's a mess where the two of you are connected but you don't care. Not only is Gojo still hard after his release, but you have no desire to move away from him.

After one last look of longing, the two of your lips connect. You both moan into each other's mouth as you press your body flush against his. The rapid beating of both your hearts can be felt against your chest and his.

Soft smacks, mixed with moans and whines slip into the sex-induced air. Gojo's arms continue to twitch as you make out with him, feining for the feeling of your skin against his fingertips. He wants to run his hands along your waist, your hips, hell, he even longs to roll his thumb over your clit.

So badly does Gojo want to please you even more.

You drag your lips away from his, leaving only a little bit of space between you and him, "S-Satoru," You call out, your gaze hazy, "T-Tell me you didn't mean that."

He smirks tiredly, "I can't."

You shake your head in disapproval, "You can't love me."

"Why not?" He sighs. "Hm?"

You peck his lips again, "Cause' I hate you..."

He chuckles against you while you part your lips over his. Your tongue enters his mouth and he accepts it happily, his cum-covered cock nestling inside your warmth.

"No..." He speaks between kisses, "You don't."

You groan into his mouth and he tries not to smile against you, "I do."

"Liar," He argues.

Your lips disconnect and you frown, "You know I do."

"Then," Gojo swallows, "Why do you kiss me like that?"

"You're a good kisser." You reply.

He raises a brow, "Why'd you fuck me like that?"

"You make me feel good, sometimes."

"Alright," He scoffs, "Last one; why... why are you looking at me like that?"

"Satoru, you literally just told me you love me. How the hell am I supposed to look at you?" You utter in disbelief.

He shakes his head, "Definitely not like that."

"And what is that, exactly?"

He grins, "Like you feel the same-"

"In your dreams." You cut off.

"Sweetheart... it's okay to love me too y'know."

"Fuck you." You fire at him.

"You jus' did."

You release a groan, annoyed by his claims now that he's returning to his normal state. "And I'm gonna do it again if you don't shut up." You threaten.

"Oh, I'm definitely not shutting up now." He flashes a charming yet fucked out smile, "Fuck me again please."

Your cunt squeezes around him, "...No."

"Mmgh... Or you can keep doin' that." He shrugs, "I like the way you keep my dick warm."

"You talk too much y'know."

"Shut me up then," Gojo challenges.

With a roll of your eyes, you move a hand to the side of his face, your thumb sliding to his lip, "Open," You order.

Almost like a well-trained dog, Gojo obediently parts his lips for you. With a smile, you slide your thumb into his mouth, "Now," You lean closer to him, "Be a good boy and keep quiet, okay?"

Gojo chokes around your finger and he blinks, his cock twitching within you.

The feeling makes you smile, "You're into that too? Shit... how many kinks do you have...?"

He sucks on your thumb eagerly, his eyes low but directly on yours. The man shrugs as if to answer you and you chuckle.

Slowly, you pull your finger out of his mouth and switch to replace it with your middle and ring finer. Gojo raises his brows, wondering what you have planned inside that head of yours.

After a few gentle thrusts of your fingers into his mouth and slips along his tongue, you draw them out with a loud pop leaving him.

Your torso then leans back again and Gojo gets a full view of your body, watching as you take your fingers that are covered in his saliva, and slip them down to rub slow circles around your clit. He lets out a deep hum while watching.

"That's so sexy. Fuuck..." Gojo voices out.

You smile before rolling your head back and moaning softly, "Aah.. is it?"

The male bites his lip and suddenly grinds his hips up into you, catching you by surprise as his cock presses against your insides. "So fuckin' sexy." He utters.

He then looks down at how he looks inside you, wanting to press against the bulge his dick creates against your skin so badly. A whine leaves those pretty lips of yours and Gojo smiles.

"Look who's being loud now?" He taunts.

"Shut up." You reply.

He chuckles, "Whyy? Teasing you is funnn."

"I'm s-supposed to be the one teasing you." You stammer suddenly as he works up a little pace below you, trying to match his slight thrusts to the movement of your fingers.

"You still can... But c'mon, you gotta let me tease you at least a little bit." He says, flashing a cheeky little smile.

"No, I don't."

His expression sinks into a pout, "But you like when I tease you."

"I do not..." You deny.

"Yeahh you do."

"You're so annoying."

"Am I?" Gojo tilts his head and narrows his eyes, his sights set on the way your folds spread around his member, "Even when my cock is stuffed inside you, I'm still annoying?"

Your breathing stutters, "G-God, shut up..."

"Nah, I don't think I will." Gojo hums, softly rutting his hips up into your sopping hole. "You should see the way you creamed around me."

"That was you... n-not me."

"No, sweetheart." He smiles, "That's you."

"It's not-"

"Listen to it." Gojo interrupts.

You blink, "W-What?"

Gojo's hips continue to steadily fuck up into your cunt, the sloppy wet sounds hitting your ears. "Hear that?" He taunts, grunting slightly, "Hear how messy you are f'me?"

You bite down on your bottom lip hard, "Shut up-," The tip of his cock rams into this dizzying spot inside you, making you choke, "F-Fuck..."

"Y'know if you untie me... I'd be able to fuck you properly." Gojo suggests.

"No..." You tell him.

He groans frustratedly, deciding to just quietly watch you work to get yourself off for a second time. His hips continue the steady push upward, constantly giving you friction and making you feel good, even if only a little bit.

After a few seconds, your head rolls back into place and you notice the way his rose-tinted lips are parted and his eyes are downward. With a swallow, you try to go back to what he said earlier, "Satoru..." You call softly.

"Hm?" He hums, his eyes remaining down.

"Did you mean i-it?"

"Mean what?" He sighs.

You rub over your clit a bit faster and he tries to match your pace as best as he can, "...Are you really... mgh, in love with me?"

He tips his head back and smiles, "Terribly so, yes."

"Hah... and, I don't have to finish the list right?" You ask.

He freezes. Gojo almost forgot that he told you he deleted the video of you, quickly regretting admitting that to you. "U-Uhm..."

You frown at his hesitance, "Satoru, please?" You whine.

He grits his teeth and looks away from you, "I... You still have t-to finish it..."

You're not sure what you expected and you don't even want to ask why-- already having an idea of what his next form of blackmail would be. After all, you did fuck a professor and for a man who wasn't scared to go to jail, you're sure he's not scared to expose that information.

So, you simply shake your head in disbelief before lifting yourself. For a second, Gojo thought you were about to hop off him but you catch him off guard by plopping all your weight back down.

"H-Holy-," His eyes go wide, "F-Fuck, sweetheart... m'sensative-," He whines.

Your hand suddenly moves to his face and you force him to look at you as you ride him aggressively, "Good." You breathe out to him.

Gojo quickly falls back into that whiney state from earlier. "P-Please, wa-ait..." He chokes out.

You continue anyways, your eyes tear due to the pleasure and the situation, "I r-really fucking hate you, y'know that?"

He moans, "Th-Then... why're you still, aagh... fucking me?"

You scoff, "Cause' that's all you're good for." You utter meanly.

He sighs and the sound of your skin meeting his every time you sink down on him fills the room. The noises are wet and sloppy due to how hard the male came inside you and the entire thing is creamy where you're connected.

"Nnngh," Gojo moans, "I'm s-sorry..."

"You don't mean it," You fire back, trying your hardest not to moan along with him, "You.. mmh.. Y-You never do."

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..."

Your brows furrow at that.

Are you missing something here?

What else is there for him to tell you? He's blackmailing you into sleeping with people he owes favors to. What more is there to that story?

Too caught up in the act of pleasing yourself, you brush his comment off for now, deciding to come back to it when his cock isn't stuffed inside you.

With that, Gojo continues, "...I-I promise I'll..." He hesitates to finish. "I'll help y-you get with-, agh... I'll h-help you get with Choso." He suddenly promises to you.

Your movement stutters at the mere mention of your crush, a moan pouring from your lips. "Mmgh, really?" It's not the best promise in the world and you'd much rather he just drop the list but-- you suppose it makes up for something.

He nods his head, "Yes... I swear..." Gojo says urgently, "I-I'll make sure he never finds out about the list and..." Your cunt tightens around him suddenly, "Oh f-fuck... I'll uh... m-make sure you guys get t-together." He finally gets out.

Your eyes narrow and your orgasm grows near, "You swear?"

"S-Swear it on my love for you-," Gojo claims. If only you knew how deep that affection really went, "Swear on my life." He whispers.

You grit your teeth and sigh out a heavy, "Okay."

It's not perfect but, for now, you suppose that's a decent enough promise to encourage you to finish the list. Though, you were never truly worried about Choso finding out about the list so it was kind of odd that Gojo mentioned it in the first place.

That, and once you finish the list, you already know Choso's going to accept you into his arms-- you wouldn't need help with that. But, something about Gojo's promise felt needed. It felt like something you had to accept or else things would get worse.

You are unsure of what this underlying emotion it was that you were feeling but there was just something about his promise. It felt different than his last one, it felt more severe.

This severity that you felt was something that you'd figure out much later but as of now; you wrapped your arms around Gojo's neck and continued your acts until both of you came undone for a second time.

Whatever it was you felt about that promise of his; it was important.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[wchswift]

pairing: eddie alden x f!reader

summary: you ask your boyfriend eddie to braid your hair. anon reqs: congratulations to the 125 followers! 🌺could i request eddie alden with the prompt: “could you help me [curl, straighten, braid, etc.] my hair?”

word count: 977

content: fluff, humor, established relationship, flirty

note: thank you sm anon!! sorry for accidentally deleting your request from my inbox, hope you see this <3 this is part of my 125 followers celebration! Join the celebration too!

── english isn't my first language :)

mdni 𖤐 18+

You huffed in frustration, staring at your reflection in the small mirror propped up on Eddie’s dresser. You and Eddie had arranged to go out tonight, like a date, something more romantic and intimate to spend time together.

The night out was supposed to be fun—a few drinks, some dancing, and a good night together after returning to the apartment. Maybe you’d even tease him a little if he got jealous of a guy looking at you. Lately, you and Eddie hadn’t been able to enjoy a good time outside of just the two of you, so you decided to dress up more than usual and even braid your hair—something different from your typical loose, wavy style

Behind you, Eddie lay sprawled out on the bed, one arm tucked under his head, watching your struggle with a lazy smirk.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve been fighting with that thing longer than it’ll actually take us to get to the bar,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You shot him a glare through the mirror. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you suddenly become a hair expert?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, grinning. “I mean, how hard can it be? Twist a little, loop a little, tie it up—bam. Done.”

A beat passed before you turned, eyes narrowing, analyzing him. “Think you could do better?”

Eddie raised a brow. “Are you seriously asking me to do your hair?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned, grabbing the brush and tossing it at him. He caught it with surprising ease. “Come on, babe... Seriously, could you please help me braid my hair?" you softly asked, pouting.

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh but swung his legs off the bed, patting the space between them. “Alright, sweetheart. Sit your pretty self down."

Rolling your eyes but secretly loving how easy this all was with him, you settled between his legs on the floor. His knees brushed your sides as he gathered your hair in his hands, fingers skimming the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver. He paused. “You okay?”

You scoffed. “It’s just… your hands are cold.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, smug as ever. “Thought maybe I had some kinda effect on you.”

You huffed a laugh. “Eddie, just focus.”

“Bossy,” he murmured, but there was warmth in his voice. “So… what exactly am I doing?” he asked, amusement still thick in his tone.

“A simple braid,” you said, “and don’t pull too hard, or I swear to God, Eddie—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled. "Relax, baby, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gentle, huh?" he teased, and you just rolled your eyes.

His fingers threaded through your hair, working with more patience than you expected. You could feel him frowning slightly in concentration, his movements gentle, if a little unpracticed. Every now and then, he’d brush too close to your ear, or tilt your head slightly to the side, muttering, "Stay still, baby," like he was the one doing you a favor.

At one point, he clicked his tongue. “I should start charging for this.”

You snorted. “Yeah? What’s the price?”

Eddie leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “One kiss per braid.”

You grinned. “So if I ask for two?”

“Then I’m a very well-paid man,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

A soft chuckle left your lips, and for a moment, you let yourself just be in this—his hands in your hair, the quiet hum of a song playing from the radio, the warmth of his presence behind you.

“You smell nice,” he murmured absentmindedly.

You let out an amused huff, but a smile crept onto your lips. “You’re just saying that to distract me from whatever disaster you’re creating back there.”

“Mm, maybe,” he admitted, his tone teasing. He remained silent for a few seconds before he sat back with a satisfied noise. “Done.”

You reached back, fingers brushing over a surprisingly neat braid. Turning in his lap, you gave him an impressed look. “Okay, where the hell did you learn that?”

Eddie shrugged, smirking. “You pick up a thing or two when you’ve spent years charming women.”

You raised your eyebrows playfully. "Is that so, Alden? Hum, I was gonna kiss you for your services, but I don’t know now…” You stated, turning back toward the mirror.

Eddie wrapped his strong arms around your waist from behind, pressing his chin to your shoulder. “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.”

He let out an exaggerated gasp. “Don't be like that, baby. No tip? After all my hard work?”

You playfully jabbed him in the side, a teasing smile stretched across your face. “I don’t know if you deserve it...”

He just chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder. “Aw, baby, not even one?” he pleaded, his breath warm against your skin.

You pretended to think about it before turning to face him fully. “Fine. One.”

His grin was immediate. “I’ll take it.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was meant to be quick, but Eddie had other ideas—his fingers slid to your jaw, keeping you there just a second longer, deepening it just enough to leave you a little breathless.

When you pulled back, his smirk was nothing short of triumphant. “Guess that means I’m on permanent hair duty now, huh?”

You laughed, flicking his forehead. “Don’t push it, Alden.”

He grinned, reaching for his jacket. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me spoil you.”

As you stood, adjusting your outfit, you caught him glancing at your braid with something almost proud in his expression. And, okay—maybe you would let him do it again sometime.

Maybe.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[gotham-daydreams]

Okay we see how Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass become Yanderes for reader what about Damian, Steph and Babs?

That question is exactly why I'm kind of debating on making a kinda "Part 2.5" sort of thing, and it would show how Tim and Damian got further roped into things like Bruce, Dick, Jason and Cass. Along with how Steph and Babs take the news of "heyyy, um. you know Y/n? yeah that one sibling of ours that's lived here for years that we've barely have like, 10 conversations with collectively? Yeah, that sibling. Uh, we just figured out they've basically been living an entire life without any of us knowing, and might've run away because we were barely involved in their life despite them making multiple attempts to have us be there. So, we kind of need your help to find them. Like. Now-"

Though honestly I'll just put the run down here, so-

Bruce kind of gave Damian the little push he needed before hopping on the train, kind of like what he did with Jason but a little different. With him finding Damian, and some questions being thrown around, before Damian just decides to help look for you.

Honestly I can imagine that Damian wasn't super serious about finding you or anything at first, and was more so just trying to help because Bruce and Dick were looking for you. Hence why he looks for Alfred first with the intention to get the search done and over with. Though, that does begin to change a little when he eventually stumbles upon your room and gets that small glimpse of all he's missed out on after having talked with Alfred.

The room itself doesn't necessarily get to Damian — not like it does with Bruce and Dick — but it's more of the contents of the room itself that get him started on the yandere path.

Honestly, how Damian and Tim begin to develop their more Yandere thoughts and feelings for the reader is through finding something in your room, leading them to find more stuff, and that eventually getting to the thought process of "i didn't know they did this... i would've liked to know about this before/share this thing with them." Which then leads to a more yandere-like mindset.

For Damian (since we're already on the topic of him), he finds that one art award that you got, and becomes curious. Eventually he finds the unfinished art pieces that Bruce had found earlier, and while he isn't impressed or anything at first, the more unfinished pieces he finds the more he kind of begins to see your potential, and that leads to his own thoughts on the matter. With him wishing he knew about how you liked to do art too, and that eventually leads to him thinking that he could've helped you refine your skill, and the both of you could've drawn or painted together.

What strengthens that mindset is when he gets his hands on a notebook that you had used to practice whatever you were struggling with, and left notes for yourself on how you could improve upon certain things as well. Maybe if Damian had known you were into art before, he could've helped you, and you both could've improved together. Refine each other's skills, and just be able to create together. Which Damian really begins to like the thought of. Especially as he sees how you improved the deeper into the notebook he gets.

So, he also sets out to find you, but with a more positive mindset and thought process.

Honestly, out of everyone, Damian is the least worried about you and your well-being. Not because he necessarily has faith in your abilities to stay alive in Gotham, while also potentially being by yourself, but rather he isn't focused on that part? Not as intensely as some of the others, anyway.

Besides, if you were to turn up dead, then he'd have the "you die, I kill you" mindset. You aren't allowed to be dead or 'missing' in his mind, and so you aren't until proven other wise — but even then he's going to need a lot of solid proof to even believe it.

Damian is just more focused on the "we have a common interest and I want to do this thing with them" part of learning that you're into art. Even if you aren't anymore, just knowing that it was something that you used to do is enough to get him jumping on the yandere train. You'll be doing art with him one way or another, and you can't do shit about it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sure his reasoning isn't a strong, but it's enough to get him started and to go looking for you with the others when they eventually start tearing Gotham apart in hopes to find you. Damian now has a sudden need for quality time and your his main target, sorry not sorry.

Tim on the other hand just sort of, stumbled upon your room, and thanks to Dick was very quickly roped into this mess (as mentioned in "Not Here").

He actually looks through the box with all of your more personal belongs first as Dick tries to call and text you like crazy, while also trying to figure out more stuff.

The first thing he minds is an mp3 player, which, again - as mentioned in "Not Here" held very early versions of songs you were working on at the time, along with some of the very first songs you ever wrote. Which, after listening to a few of them, is immediately a big fan. Though that ends up being both his downfall and how he begins to develop his more yandere tendencies.

Like Dick, you had tried to call and message him about certain performances and such you thought he'd like, and hoped he'd attend, but to no avail. It sucks even more for Tim now because if he had just given your music a chance just a little sooner, maybe things would've been different between the two of you. Maybe you wouldn't have left.

Not to mention that, since he now really loves your music - just knowing that he's wasted so many opportunities to hear more of it, and the completed, fully fleshed out versions of some the songs on the mp3 player makes him upset. He really feels the hit of neglecting you, and that hit only lands harder when he goes through that 'List/Progress' notebook that Bruce had seen earlier in "Not Here".

A notebook which does reveal a lot about you, and how you only did so many activities because you hoped that if anyone in the family was into one of the activities/hobbies you tried, then you'd be able to bond with them over it. Though look at where that got you. Countless awards hung on your walls, with a number of accomplishments to your name - and yet not once were you able to use them for their original purpose. Not once were you able to hold a full, long conversation with any of them about any of the things you've done.

It wasn't even your fault because you tried to put in the work, Tim could really see that now, but you just weren't given the chance to actually put it to good use.

Maybe that's why he ended up helping Dick as much as he did, and maybe that's why he took the time to download some of your songs before heading out to look for you. He wanted to feel closer to you then he really was, and wanted your music to be something shared between the two of you.

Tim wants to not only get closer to you, but to hear everything you've ever made music wise. A want which he fully intends on making a reality.

Stephenie and Barbara are a bit different, however. Since, as stated in "Not Here", both of them are informed of what's going on after everyone else but Damian and Alfred absolutely loses their minds over you not being in the Manor. Though, again, both take the news a bit differently.

Between the two, Steph easily feels the worst. So her motivations and actions — like Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, and Tim — are more out of guilt and regret. She already doesn't like the thought of her own neglect having caused you to keep so many things to yourself that you basically hid yourself away, but the idea of her — along with everyone else — having pushed you so far away that you ran away? That... doesn't make her feel good, to say the least.

Sure, she doesn't feel as bad as Bruce or Dick - who easily feel the worst because of their respective roles in the family, and them feeling like they failed to even be a semi-present figure in your life for you to recognize them as your Father and Older Brother (to which they are correct, but aren't aware of that yet) - but it's still enough for her to try and look for you too.

Kind of like Bruce when he was looking in the Manor, Stephanie doesn't know where to start looking, and that only worsens her regret.

I guess her development comes more with time? Since the more she and the others look, not only do her feelings grow, but she also learns more about you as everyone starts sharing information over the intercoms. Things they just found out about you — like how you spent your birthdays alone with Alfred and had waited for them each year until recently, how you made music, what kind of competitions and such you've participated in, who were your teachers, how majority of what you did wasn't even for yourself - but rather a chance that one of the many activities you did try out was something anyone of them were into, so that way you could actually have a conversation with them - and more. (Which may be shown later? Not in a official post/part to the series but perhaps in a sort of side thing that shows the mayhem going on. But who knows?)

Case and point, while they are all looking for you - Steph slowly becomes more yandere for the reader the more she learns about you and how her and the other's actions impacted you. Like some of the others, she wants to make it up to you, but isn't entirely sure how she'd even go about doing that. The more aware she becomes, the harder she falls.

Barbara on the other hand, I'd say, is more lowkey as of now when it comes to her development as a yandere?

I mean, Dick, while very much panicking, basically told her it was an emergency and he really needed her on the bat computer because he had to look for you. Which, in the same breath, gave a list of locations and possible teachers you might've had in the past (you can thank Tim for trying to figure all of that out) and if she could look into it.

It's safe to say that Barbara's introduction into the whole situation was very chaotic. An emotional, worried, and panicked Dick is never a good one, so that was fun to deal with while slowly drowning in confusion.

Eventually, she got the run down and was quick to help, but like Bruce, Cass, Damian, and Jason - she was more confused at the start.

Ouf of everyone, and maybe besides Jason, Barbara has had the least amount of interaction with you - and the room for possible interactions with you for her were much smaller anyway considering that you aren't a vigilante, and never intended to be. So, it only makes sense that one of the people you've easily had the least connection with, was the person who communicated and mainly interacted with the rest of the Batfam when they're doing vigilante work.

What didn't help is that she barely even saw you at events or even holiday gatherings and such the family would have, with you being so neglected that they just... failed to even notice you missing at the time. The day she was introduced to you was when you were first adopted, and that was basically both the first and last full interaction either of you have had with each other. Other than that, she would hear small comments about you sometimes from the others, but even then it wasn't much and those soon died out as one could've guessed.

Even when she was in the Manor, she might've caught a few glimpses of you, but nothing else - so the beginning of her fall into being a yandere is definitely much slowly and lowkey when compared to the others.

I feel as if this whole situation may encourage Babs to want to get to know you better? After all, your disappearance did cause the whole family to basically start a whole manhunt just to find you, so I feel as if that would be enough to get Barbara interested at the very least. Not to mention all of the things she's hearing about you from everyone - it would be nice to try and actually meet you, not just know about you.

In other words, I feel as if Barbara may develop more as a yandere in part 3, seeing as I can see her more yandere tendencies begin to develop once she actually 'meets' you. Y'know what I mean?

So tldr; Damian becomes a yandere for the reader by finding out they're into art/have done art in the past, and now has a deep need to bond with them.

Steph becomes a yandere through her guilt and regret, and like some of the others, want to make it up to the reader.

Babs, on the other hand, hasn't exactly become a yandere just yet, but will once she 'meets' the reader and see them for herself. As of right now, she's just curious, but we'll get there in part 3.

Also, this is unrelated to the ask, but I would like to point out how pretty much everyone in the Batfam thinks you ran away rather then you just leaving. Do what you will with this information for now :]

Anyways, I hoped that answered your question, even if I got a bit rambly! If there's anything else in particular anyone else would like to know, feel free to send in an ask!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎲🖤 Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes 🎲🖤

Writing a little fic about the reader joining Hellfire after being kicked out of the original D&D group she's in, for reasons *cough (sexist arseholes)* and Eddie is literally in love with this feisty lady who interrupts the latest Hellfire campaign and asks to join the group, who's planned campaigns involving Vecna and has no trouble arguing with him if he's being a dick. (The latter might be in part two if people are interested)

Vecna who's Vecna? Eddie is alive and thriving in this fic. Also, I'm not 100% well-versed in D&D but I am learning, if I do part two I hope to include more into the plot.

The title is lyrics from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift 💞

💞

"You can't just kick me out of the group," you say fuming as Ethan looks at you with pity.

"I'm the Dungeon Master so technically I can, the guys just think that you take playing a little less seriously than the rest of us" he lies straight to your face and the anger that is bubbling up inside of you threatens to explode.

"What! I literally built the last three campaigns because you couldn't come up with anything, I came up with the plan to defeat Vecna and...you glare at him, this is what it's about isn't it. You hate that I can come up with the ideas for campaigns and because I'm good at the game. Of all the idiotic, sexist bullshit...

Ethan blushes. "Look, I want to see if Eddie would let me and the guys join Hellfire and maybe he might let me DM sometimes but if he finds out that you helped make up most of them well...

So you're kicking me out to save yourself the apparent humiliation of a girl being better at D&D than you are" he flushes pink and glares at you.

"Whatever. We'll be fine without you. Good riddance" he storms off by that point leaving you alone and tearful. You're just so pissed that you have to leave the group, leave something you love playing.

There's a gentle pressure on your shoulder and you find Robin looking at you concerned. "What was that about? Did he do something to hurt you? I could ask Steve to kick his ass, unless you want to kick his ass yourself which is great and all and...

She stops talking when she sees one silent tear run down your cheek which you wipe away furiously, nope you will not cry because of that gargoyle Ethan.

"Robin breathe, and yeah I'm okay. I mean I will be" you explain everything that happened and by the end Robin is as angry as you are.

"He can't just kick you out, what a douchebag, how exactly is he going to explain away the fact he has no amazing ideas for campaigns without you there?

You should talk to Eddie and join Hellfire yourself, he's actually a nice guy well according to the Steve's child/brother friend. The dingus is jealous of Eddie which is kind of sweet and hilarious..." She cuts off her rant at the growing smile on your face.

"Oh no, I know that look" you grin widens and you link arms with Robin. Yes you'll join Eddie and expose Ethan for the slimy ass that he is.

❤️

With the idea in mind you decide to ask Eddie before Hellfire starts but instead find yourself walking into a session which is in full swing. Well shit. Way to make a good impression...

Eddie stops talking, he's in the middle of the campaign, just at the part where a group of rogue trolls have invaded the party and turned the gathering of friends at a tavern into a fight for survival.

"Yes... Uh cheerleader tryouts are the other way sweetheart" You scoff and raise your eyebrows at him.

"Do I look like a cheerleader to you? I'm sorry to interrupt. I wanted to catch you before you started the session, I was wondering if I could join Hellfire?"

You know Jeff from being in drama with him and he's the first to say, "Uh aren't you in that group with Ethan and George?" You shake your head.

"I was. Until they kicked me out" Eddie's big brown eyes widened and the annoyed expression was wiped from his face, he ignored the complaints of some of the freshmen and motioned you to explain.

"Ethan kicked me out because he's an arrogant, sexist troll" one of the freshmen groans and gestures widely to Eddie.

"Dude, can we hurry up and continue with the session" Eddie holds a hand up to quieten him and stares at you his eyes filled with grudging curiosity.

"Why did he kick you out?" You frown and the anger returns at Ethan and his betrayal.

"Because he wants to join up with you and impress you with his amazing DM skills which are a load of shit. He didn't even organise the last three campaigns, I did. He liked to use all of my ideas but won't have me blow his chances of pretending he's something he isn't" there's silence and Eddie looks impressed.

There's also something else in his expression that makes your stomach feel like it's doing somersaults but you can examine that later.

"So you're here to join instead before the little weasel does. Beat him at his own game huh sweetheart?" you nod and he smiles, all dimples.

"Well yeah basically, I love D&D but I also want to annoy the hell out of the asshole as well, he's just pissed that I came up with a campaign for Vecna and doesn't want me showing you how much he doesn't do for his own group" you finish your rant and wait for his answer.

Eddie's smiling by the end of your rant and gestures you over to the group.

"I like you, you can sit in and watch this session because we're more than halfway through but I'm happy for you to join the group and our next meeting. You can tell me about your stats and character after the session is over"

Thrilled you walk over to the table and Eddie barks at one of the guys to move so you're standing right beside him.

It was so not time for your heart to be doing its own version of a mini-marathon at the mere sight of Eddie's big brown eyes capturing yours. Fuck, you did not have time for whatever this was. You were here to battle dragons, defeat trolls (in real life as well) and be a badass.

Crushing on Eddie Munson would have to wait.

❤️

Eddie is definitely planning on killing Wheeler's character in the next session. He glares as Mini Wheeler finishes his rant about last night.

"You know it's so gross the way you were mooning over her all night right? Make it more obvious that you have a crush on her dude" he whines and Eddie scowls which seems to snap Mike out of his constant whining.

"I was not mooning Wheeler. I was impressed with the way she knew what she wanted and went for it, she will be a valuable asset to Hellfire"

Gareth hides a laugh as he continues eating and Eddie redirects his glare to his friend. "Anything to say Gareth the Great?" Gareth stops laughing at once but still looks amused.

"Dude, you were totally mooning over her, I think someone's in love" Eddie can feel the heat rise on his cheeks and scoffs, how dare Gareth make such an idiotic assumption.

"Love? I don't believe in love dude. This heart is far too cynical for any of that shit. I was just intrigued that's all" he's ready to fully rant when he sees you and his heart skips a beat, argument dying in his throat and his knees turn to jelly.

"Yeah be more obvious Munson" Jeff sniggers which causes Gareth to nearly choke on his sandwich.

Okay, scratch that. He's killing Gareth and Jeff's characters too.

💞

As you walk into the cafeteria the next day you avoid your usual table and head straight for Hellfire.

You wave cheerily over at Ethan and the guys and smirk at their thunderous expressions. Eddie snorts but when you look at him there's no trace of his previous amusement as he mentions the next Hellfire session will be tomorrow.

You're distracted by Ethan glowering in your direction, his arms folded as he snaps at Dean. There's a soft pressure on your hand and you look down to find Eddie's hand touching yours, it gets your attention immediately.

"We can go over your character tonight yeah? There's a spark between the two of you, it lingers in the air and your heart kicks up a notch as Eddie lets out a little groan.

He clears his throat and moves his hand away, you hide how flustered you are as he begins to talk about the new campaign but every so often his gaze meets yours and the same level of intrigue is in his gaze as you feel for him.

💞

"Lady Emmeline is an elven princess who ran away from her duties when her parents tried to marry her off to a vile prince, she's proficient with a bow and arrow but her real talent is swordsmanship, she's intelligent, brave and bold but can be impulsive and hotheaded if provoked" you read out to Eddie who nods.

"Was she your character in your old D&D group?" Eddie asks and you nod, leaning closer to him as he pulls out his notebook. It's chock-full of ideas for campaigns and drawings, being so near Eddie is playing havoc with your concentration.

He smells like leather, the faintest hint of smoke and whatever cologne he's using. It's woody and smells divine. The softness of his usually loud voice and his big Bambi eyes are distracting. It wouldn't bother you so much or at least you'd try to avoid it but the way you catch Eddie looking at you sometimes makes you melt.

It's ridiculous because you've never felt this way before about anybody but now it's happened it's overwhelming and intense.

"Nice tattoo" you murmur and he smiles as you nod to the bats and the Wyvern. "I have more" he pulls down his Hellfire shirt and you can see a black widow spider and a glimpse of a demon.

Very gently you trace a finger over one of the bats on his forearm, Eddie's breath hitches and you curse yourself for possibly freaking him out. "Sorry," you murmur and chance a peek at his expression. It's filled with longing.

"Don't be sorry princess" he's hesitant at first but then after a moment you feel his fingers trace soft patterns over your hand. The feel of his fingers on your skin is amazing and it makes you shiver in a good way.

His eyes drop down to your lips and the two of you move closer instinctively until you're both mere inches apart.

And that's when Dustin barrels in speaking a mile a minute and you and Eddie jump apart at the interruption.

Fuck.

[lexosaurus]

Ok, listen. I know, I KNOW that "Phantom Planet's Not Canon Fuck You." Okay?

But just. Hear me out for a second.

Do Halfas Need To Breathe In Ghost Form?

Okay so this is a really lowkeye "debate" (I say that in quotes because it's more just that people have different headcanons and tbh this is the best way anyway because, you know, fuck canon death of the author and all) as to whether or not Danny needs to breathe in halfa form. And while I, like most people, just sorta decide whether or not he needs to breathe based on whatever my fanfic plot needs, I actually think, canonically at least, there is some solid evidence that no, actually, they don't need to breathe in ghost form.

There's a few times in canon where Vlad is choking Danny mid-fight and Danny looks more mildly annoyed than seriously panicked about it, but you can largely chalk that up to Kid's TV Screening Filters, so I don't put much weight on those.

However, there are some moment that sticks out more than the rest. And that's when Danny and Vlad are in space.

Yeah, uh, I'm talking about Phantom Planet.

(I'm sorry)

So initially, both Danny and Vlad are shown to be wearing helmets that presumably have oxygen filtering through them. Now now, I know what you're thinking: Lexx, wouldn't this mean that they do need to breathe in ghost form?

My theory isn't that they can't breathe in ghost form, my theory is that they don't need to breathe in ghost form. There's a difference.

I also think that they probably don't exactly want to test the theory if they have to breathe or now. Better safe than sorry, so let's wear helmets!

(Also, side note, this furthers the other lowkeye "debate" as to whether or not they get seriously cold in their ghost forms because, uh, they're in space with no spacesuit)

But I digress. Here they are shown with helmets, suggesting that they do have some breathing capabilities, even in ghost form.

But at the end of the episode, we see Vlad here chilling on a space rock, no helmet in sight, looking perfectly fine albeit disappointed and bored.

This, obviously, suggests that halfas do not need to breathe in ghost form. And I think Vlad literally just discovered that as soon as he was ejected to space sans helmet.

So my theory is, while Danny and Vlad have the organs required for breathing and do breathe as a reflex automatically, when put in situations like outer space where oxygen is not available, their ghost half takes over a little more and they stop breathing. I think this is such an automatic thing that when this change happens in day to day life (like Danny being choked by Vlad mid ghost-fight), that like how us humans don't actively think about breathing, we just kinda do it, they don't really notice it either.

So that's my theory. I'm so sorry for needing to cite Phantom Planet here. I'm sure there's other things you can pull from canon too, but this was just the most obvious. Again, headcanons ftw, okay peace out ✌️

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[deerlysacred]

✧ i'll be summer sun for you forever . . . | s2 dean winchester x witch fem!reader

💌 𝄢 angst & fluff & smut

♫ 𝄢 concept song : forever winter - taylor swift ❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

🌜𝄢 that scar on his forehead makes him x 10000 hotter...

‼️ 𝄢 i do not own supernatural or any of its characters; all rights belong to their respective creators. this is purely a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only, with no intention of profit.

The summer rain pattered softly against the motel room's window, the overcast sky washing the room in dull grays. Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, a ragged duffle bag at his feet, his shoulders hunched forward like he was holding the weight of the world— and maybe he was. He's been like this since John died : quiet, unreachable. His fingers wrapped around a beer bottle, nearly empty, and the TV's nearly muted, the low-budget slasher movie flashing faint colors across his face.

You smoothed out his dark jeans, trying to make the creases look less like they'd been through a war zone. Folding laundry wasn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but it gave your hands something to do so. Because if not, you were afraid they would betray you by doing something stupid, like reaching out to touch his arm. Or his hair. Or— nope, shut that thought down.

"Y'know, you don't have to do that." His voice cut through the static in the room, low and gruff. He didn't even look at you as you were folding his flannel. "Not like I asked you to play house or whatever."

Okay. Ouch. You froze mid-fold, the flannel dangling awkwardly from your hands like you'd forgotten what laundry even was. For a second, you considered apologizing, but instead, your brain decided to replay every single time you apologized to Dean and he just got more annoyed. Because that's helpful.

It's fine. He's just grieving. He's not mad at me, he's mad at… life? Fate? Having to wait until he heal fully so he can repair Baby?

"You gonna say somethin'," he muttered, his lips pulling into a faint sneer. "Or are we just gonna sit here, you foldin' my crap like a goddamn Hallmark commercial?"

Oh, God. He thinks I'm being weird.

"I... uh... just thought you'd want your stuff… not wrinkled?" you stammered, immediately cringing at how lame that sounded. Who cared about wrinkles when your dad just died?

He didn't even look at you let alone answer you, he just took a big sip from his beer. Okay... Change the subject.

"So..." you said, carefully folding another shirt. "Do you ever wear anything that isn't flannel? Or do you and Sam just split one big closet at every Bass Pro Shop you hit on the road?"

Dean's lip twitched, but he kept his gaze on the TV. "Flannel's classic. Timeless. And it's practical. You can fight in it, sleep in it. Hell, you can even use it to tie someone up if things get kinky." His smirk widened at that, looking at your working fingers —or wrists...— as he attempted to take a one more sip, a few drops fell on his lap. "Why? Want me to follow the latest trends blogs as 'm ganking a vamp?"

Oh, hell no.

You acted like you didn't realize his subtle (?) glance at your wrists, just spoke softly as you put the shirts in one place. "No... These... They suit you. They really do... Just, curious."

He nodded, a low 'tch' coming out of his lips. "Yeah, you be like that."

Prick.

You just rolled your eyes and then knelt on the floor by Dean's bed, his duffle bag in front of you, the smell of old leather and motor oil wafting up as you unzipped it. God, this thing is like Pandora's box. There was no telling what kind of apocalyptic horrors I might uncover. Socks? Sure. Bullets? Probably. Random chicks' numbers on whiskey-stained paper pieces? Duh.

Please, no condoms. Please, no condoms... you thought as your hands dipped inside.

You grabbed something and tugged it up, blinking when you realized what it was : John's journal.

Your heart sank. "Oh." The word slipped out before you could stop it.

Dean's head snapped up at the sound. His eyes darted to the journal in your hands, and in an instant, his green eyes narrowed.

“Gimme that!" he barked, already on his feet. He crossed the room in two quick strides.

"I was just—" You didn't even get the chance to finish. He snatched the journal from your hands harshly.

"Don't touch my stuff." he snapped, his voice cold. It felt like a slap. "You don't get to just… go through my bag." His fingers curled around the journal like an upset little kid hugging his favorite plushie, an anchor for him.

You blinked up at him, guilt creeping into you. "I was emptying the bag so I could—"

"Doesn't matter," he cut you off, his voice low but shaking. "Just… don't."

Dean turned away from you, pacing to the other side of the room. His grip on the journal didn't loosen. If anything, it looked like he was trying to crush it in his hands.

You stood up, heart beating nervously as you watched his shoulders rise and fall with heavy breaths.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice quieter yet still rough. "You think I like this? That I'm bein' like this on purpose? But I can't just—" He broke off, shaking his head.

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his grief thick in the air. You wanted to step forward, to just, hug him and hold him. You had this need to comfort him ever since the day his entire world crushed in that hospital room. But you knew better than to push him so early, so you just waited. You two just stayed silent, you couldn't see Dean's eyes since his back was turned to you but you could guess he was looking at the ground.

Then suddenly, he spoke, his voice trembling like he couldn't keep the words in anymore.

"Do you know what he said to me before he died? I mean... What the yellow-eyed told me when it was in dad's body..." He gulped, licking his lips before he turned to look at you, he looked like he could break down at any second. "Azazel told me… that dad loved Sam more than me." He laughed, but it was bitter, hollow. "Can you believe that? All this time, I thought… I thought I was doing everything right. Following orders, being the good soldier. The good perfect hunter he trained me to be, ever since I was 4. And for what? So he could…" Dean trailed off, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

You stayed quiet, frozen in place, not trusting yourself to speak. You felt your eyes watering as you waited for him to say more.

Dean finally looked at you then, his eyes hard and glassy, his voice breaking, tired. "I don't even know if it's true. But it's all I can think about. Every fuckin' time I close my eyes, it's there. That voice. That… goddamn voice." He gripped his messy dark blond hair and messed it up even more, closing eyes for a while to gather himself. "Doesn't matter, though. None of it matters. He's gone. And I can't—" His voice cracked, and he cut himself off, turning away even more from you like he couldn't stand to let you see him like this.

You didn't think much before you crossed the small space between you and Dean. His back was turned, his shoulders stiff as he stared down at the journal in his hands. For a moment, you hesitated, your arms half-lifting before dropping awkwardly.

What if he pushes me away? What if I make things worse?

But then, without another thought, you moved closer. Carefully, your arms slid around his middle, your cheek pressing lightly against the worn cotton of his shirt. His body tensed immediately, his muscles going rigid beneath your touch.

“Y/N…” His voice was low, almost strained, like he was already trying to push you away with words alone. He shifted, trying to step out of your grasp, but you only tightened your hold, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.

"It's okay," you murmured, the words barely hearable with the rain tapping steadily against the window. "I'm here. You're allowed to cry, to... Let it all out.”

Dean’s breath hitched sharply, his chest rising and falling in uneven jerks. "I'm fine," he rasped, but his voice cracked. "I don't need—"

Then he finally pulled away from you only to look down at your eyes, his pupils widened, like he was searching for something in you that he couldn't find in himself. The air between you shifted, the space filled with a tension that wasn't just grief and yearning. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and your breath caught.

It was Dean who moved first. His hand, rough and calloused, cupped your cheek to make you rise on your tiptoes, pulling you towards him as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hard, almost desperate, his lips were warm, slightly chapped (because of course they were), and way too good at this.

Wait. Is this happening? This is happening. Oh, crap. OH, CRAP. Dean Winchester is kissing me. What do I do? What do I do with my hands? Am I supposed to breathe? No, wait, don't breathe through your nose too hard, you'll sound like Darth Vader.

Before you could make a move, he tugged you closer, his hands firm but not rough as they guided you back onto the bed. The mattress creaked under your combined weight.

Dean's legs settled between yours, his lips moved to your neck to alternate between gentle kisses and demanding suckings. "God, I've been thinkin' about this..." he murmured, his voice gravelly and low. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin on your throat, and holy hell, that should've come with a warning sign beforehand.

"Dean—" His name slipped out before you could stop it, breathless and probably too needy, but the way his hands tightened on your waist told you he liked it. Maybe too much.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low rumble against your neck, his lips brushing against your pulse. "That sound like you want me to stop?"

Stop? STOP?! Who would ever—

"N-No." A sound that was a mix of whining and whimpering came out of your lips. "Keep going... Please?"

He reacted with his usual Dean-Winchester-Patented smirk. Damn that smirk. "You're so damn beautiful," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough. "You don't even see it, do you? You can't, not like I do, not like I will."

His hand slid down your thigh, guiding your skirt and underwear off in one smooth motion, his breath hitching. His gaze lingered on the delicate folds between your thighs, drinking in the sight of you laid out before him like an offering, undeniably beautiful. A low growl rumbled in his chest. "Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect." With a gentle tug, he guided your legs apart, creating a delicious space for himself.

You swore your soul left your body for a second. So this is what it's like to die a happy woman. Good to know.

He leaned in, breath hot against your slick flesh as he inhaled deeply, taking in your unique scent. "Christ, you smell incredible..." he groaned, nuzzling his nose to your thigh. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his tongue along your slit, savoring every taste. You whimpered softly, biting down on your bottom lip to stifle them. His stubble scraped lightly against your inner thighs, sending shivers through you as he smacked your already dripping pussy, not too rough but not too gentle, making your eyes widen with shock and pleasure. "Shhh, let me hear ya..."

He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you suirm. He dipped lower, delving into your core with long, deep strokes of his tongue. Fucking you with his tongue, making you curl your toes, moan louder and louder each passing second.

While he kept eating you out, his strong hand pulled down on your top's buttons impatiently, making them fly away. You gasped as the air made your nipples harden even more, he started to palm your breast, his thumb focused on playing with your nipple as he feasted on you like a man starved. He picked up the pace, driving two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping channel with his free hand. The combination of his mouth on your clit, his hand toying with your tits and his fingers pumping in and out of you had you screaming.

"A—Ah! Oh God... Fuck... Dean..!" Your back arched off the bed, making him pin your thighs still. Dean smirked and spoke heavily while his glistening lips were still against your folds, cooing. "Aww, too much already? How you gonna take my cock stretching you open if you can barely take this, sweetheart?"

Suddenly, Dean pulled back, leaving you gasping and wanting for more. "Guess we'll find out." He sat up, his eyes blazing with hunger as he quickly shed all his clothes.

Oh. Oh my God.

His cock sprang free, hard and heavy. The bulbous head glinted with a bead of precum, while the shaft was a delicious mix of dark pink and creamy white. Ridges of prominent veins ran along the length, making your pussy clench around nothing.

He was way bigger than you guessed, Dean smirked when he saw your reaction. "Saw somethin' you like, doll?" He gave a few stroke to his cock as he searched for a condom in the nightstand's drawer. Meanwhile, your hazey eyes were just watching his cock pulse and move while he rummaged the stuff.

Nope. Not fitting in there. Absolutely not.

"Ah, there you are." he muttered, producing a foil packet. He tore it open with his teeth, using his thumb to unroll the condom over his throbbing length. The latex stretched taut around his girth, providing a slick barrier between skin and skin.

He suddenly pushed you to fully lay on the bed, getting on top of you. He grasped your chin firmly, forcing you to keep a stable eye contact with him as his green eyes looked down at yours, the head of his dick nudging insistently against your heat. "Tell me you want it," he commanded, his voice low and rough with lust. "Tell me you're mine to use however I please."

That voice, his dominance, it shot straight to your stomach.

Or lower... God help me.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, not even trying to filter your need for him anymore. "I'm yours... I'm yours, please... Use me how you'd like, fill me up, Dean..."

Dean's eyes darkened with primal desire at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening. With a slow, deliberate push, Dean sank the first inch of his thick cock into your warm heat. Your eyelids fluttered shut, a sheen of sweat glistening on your brow as you whimpered loudly, hurting so fucking good.

Your inner muscles clenched around him, drawing him in further. He forced himself to stay in control and not just start fucking you like a caveman, pausing, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before carefully pushing another inch inside.

"Fuuuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his forehead dipping to rest against yours as he paused, barely halfway in. His eyes searched yours, needy and possessive. "Look at me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes while I fuck you 'till your pussy knows the shape of my cock." As you met his intense gaze, he rocked his hips, gliding the final stretch of his length into you with a soft, satisfied grunt. He stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the fullness before withdrawing slightly until only the tip stays in and pushing back in, setting a gentle rhythm for a while.

Then, after your body got used to him inside you, Dean's hips snapped back and forward, burying all of his cock to the hilt in brutal thrusts even deeper. A sharp cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, the sudden intensity overwhelming your senses.

"Oh fuck yes!" Dean roared, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he set a relentless pace. He pistoned in and out of you with savage abandon, each powerful stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain coursing through your body.

Your nails dug into his back, your eyes rolled back as you were whimpering his name like a mantra over and over again. Dean's guttural grunts and the lewd slap of flesh on flesh filled the room. "Take it, my naughty little slut!" Dean snarled, his words punctuated by deep, punishing drives of his cock.

"Fucking hell, you were made for this," Dean panted, his eyes wild with lust as he watched his cock disappear into your convulsing depths again and again. "Such a greedy little cunt, milking my dick greedy." The headboard rattled against the wall with each savage thrust, the metal frame creaking in protest. Dean's thrusts grew shorter and more erratic, his orgasm approaching.

The room spun, sounds blurred, until there was only the primal rhythm of your coupling. "Come with me, baby. Take it, take it, take it!" Dean growled, his voice a husky command. His words, spoken in that rough, dominant tone, were the final trigger. You felt the coil inside you snap, releasing a torrent of ecstasy that crashed over you like waves. Your inner walls spasmed wildly around Dean's cock, clenching as you shook apart beneath him. At the same moment, Dean let out a feral roar, his hips jerking erratically as he buried himself to the hilt.

As the last tremors subsided, Dean collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your damp skin as he struggled to catch his breath.

You wrapped your arms around him, still shaking slightly because of the intensity of the pleasure. You two stayed still like that for a few minutes, just listening the rain and bird sounds coming from outside, bare, skin to skin, satisfied. Dean chuckled into your neck, kissing the faint hickeys gently. A shy and tired smile appeared on your lips, holding him tighter.

Wow. Yeah, this is fine. Totally fine. Very casual. Just fucked Dean freaking Winchester. No big deal. This is —oh, wow, his skin is all over me. That's— yep, that's nice. Very nice. VERY NICE.

Dean pulled back just slightly, his eyes locking on yours, and the smirk that spread across his lips was both infuriating and ridiculously hot. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He bumped your noses, murmuring low before he captured your lips in a deep, all tongue and teeth kiss. "Or did I?"

You rested your cheek against his shoulder, the warmth of his skin grounding you. His scent —leather, whiskey, and him— wrapped around you like a blanket. It was comforting, in a strange, Dean-specific way. You ran your fingers lightly over his chest, tracing invisible patterns, trying to soothe him, even if you knew it wouldn't ease his mind no matter how much time he spent tangled in the sheets lost in the haze.

"You okay?" you finally whispered, your voice soft.

He didn't answer right away. His jaw flexed, his lips pressing into a hard line. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, raw, and tinged with the weight he couldn't shake. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Yeah. Right, he was pulling back behind his walls again. You didn't press, though. Not yet. Instead, you shifted closer, draping your arm over his middle and squeezing him gently, hoping it was enough to let him know you were there.

You played with his hair as he rested his head against your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist. His breathing began to even out, his body relaxing against yours as exhaustion was taking over slowly.

"You don't have to be the strong one, the one who always sucks it up and carries all the baggage," you whispered, your voice soothing Dean with the rain. "Not anymore."

But even you didn't believe what you said.

Dean let out a soft, humorless chuckle, his voice gruff. "Actually, I do. Even more now." He sighed, the sound resigned. "But thanks for pretending I don't. Just for a little while."

You tightened your grip on him, your fingers still carding through his hair. "Anytime, Dean."

Eventually, the two of you drifted off like that, tangled together, the rain lulling you into a fragile, fleeting peace.

[sebscore]

couple of suggestions for leclerc!reader. 1. leclerc!reader gets hit by a car and it's not looking very good, but they make a full recovery. 2. Her brothers hear that their sister has a boyfriend and later learn that the guys she's seeing is f2 driver oliver bearman (or any one of the f2 boys).

A BOYFRIEND? | CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader

warnings: this fic is situated somewhere in 2022 as arthur and ollie are teammates in this story.

author's note: thank you so much for the request, my darling! ollie isn't exactly her boyfriend in this, but they're not exactly friends either so i hope it's okay <3 let me know what you think of it!

• • • • • • •

It had been Arthur's idea to invite his family to his apartment in Italy, wanting to show off his newfound independence. Pascale, Charles and Y/N would spend a few days there before going back home to Monte Carlo. Lorenzo couldn't make it due to work obligations, but he would join them another time.

The youngest Leclerc was having a great time, apart from having to share a room with Charles as Arthur didn't have enough space for everyone to sleep individually.

It was mid day when the doorbell rang, confusing Arthur as he wasn't expecting anyone to come over. Charles and his mum were watching tv and his sister was doing whatever girls do alone in their room.

He opened the door and was surprised when he saw Ollie, his teammate. The pair had gotten along well ever since the young Brit had joined Prema and the Ferrari Driver Academy. Ollie isn't allowed to have a driver's license yet, so Arthur would often bring him to places around Maranello.

''Ollie! Hey, how are you?'' Arthur greeted him, a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance. His teammate nervously smiled. ''I'm good, mate! You?''

''Me too, thanks,'' the Monégasque noticed Ollie wasn't wearing his usual Ferrari shirt and had replaced it with a black hoodie, ''so, uh, is everything alright? I don't think we made plans or anything?'' Arthur hoped he hadn't forgotten anything important.

''Oh, uh, I'm actually here for-''

''Ollie, darling, come on in!'' Pascale interrupted the youngster, appearing from behind Arthur and urging him to enter the apartment. Arthur's confusion grew with each second passing, but he moved to the side to let Ollie in.

Charles stood up from the couch as their new guest walked in, just as puzzled as his little brother. He approached the Brit and shook his hand. ''Hi, I'm Charles. Nice to see you.''

''Nice to meet you, I'm Ollie.'' He quickly responded, hoping his sweaty palms didn't bother the Ferrari driver too much.

''Ollie, you want something to drink?'' Pascale offered him, pointing her finger in the direction of the kitchen. ''Oh, I'm alright, but thank you.'' He politely declined.

''Arthur, go and see if your sister's ready yet.''

''Ready for what?''

''Just go check on her.'' Pascale lightly pushed him to his guest room where his sister resided.

He gave everyone a weird glance, but he listened to his mother's orders nevertheless. Arthur walked quickly as he wanted to get answers as fast as possible since the reason for Ollie's appearance at his house was still a mystery.

He knocked on the door, waiting for his sister to give her consent to let him in. ''Who is it?'' He heard her question.

''Arthur.''

''Go away.''

Just like always, he ignored his sister's words and walked into the room anyway. She was spraying some perfume as she saw her brother enter, making her roll her eyes. ''I said go away.''

''Mum asked me to check if you were ready yet,'' he explained his presence, observing his sister as she paced around the room, ''wait- did you put on makeup?'' Arthur frowned, her face looked a bit different than usual.

''Yeah, so?'' Y/N bit back, not in the mood to be teased.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. ''You want to look pretty for someone?'' Despite noticing his sister wasn't in a joking mood, he opted to tease her anyway.

''What's wrong with you?'' She groaned.

''What's wrong with you, blabla…'' Arthur repeated her words, copying her tone in an overdramatized way.

''Maman!'' Y/N yelled, receiving a push from her older brother. ''Okay, sorry!'' He didn't want their mother to come all the way down there.

It was as if seeing his sister all dolled up switched a gear in his head, it made everything clear. ''Hold on- Ollie is here… you're wearing makeup… mum asked me to see if you were ready… you're not going on a date with him are you?''

''That single brain cell of yours is doing a lot of work right now, Thur.'' Y/N grabbed her handbag and walked out of the guest room, Arthur closely following her.

Ollie had set himself down on one of the chairs as Pascale kept insisting he made himself comfortable, but as soon as the Leclerc girl walked into the room, he stood up. ''Hey, Y/N.''

''Hi, Ollie.'' She blushed, the Brit having an effect on her that made the young girl all giddy inside.

''Alright, have fun you two,'' Pascale motioned for the pair to get going, ''be smart.'' She kissed Y/N's cheek, bidding her daughter goodbye.

''I know, bye.''

She waited until they were out of the door before returning to the living room, where she found her two sons still standing in the same place as earlier. ''Everything okay?''

''When were you gonna tell us our sister has a boyfriend?'' Charles asked, offended that their mother would keep such information to herself and not share it with them. ''And that it's my teammate?'' Arthur added, pointing at himself.

Pascale chuckled, amused by their cluelessness. ''Ollie is not her boyfriend, but they've been on a few dates with each other and she's been really enjoying it.'' She explained to them, a genuine smile on her face.

''She's only 17 years-old, she can't have a boyfriend.'' Arthur argued, cringing as the words left his mouth. ''Okay, she can have a boyfriend, but why does it have to be him?'' He quickly changed his mind.

''What's wrong with Ollie? He's a nice young man and his parents are very good people.'' Their mother defended the Brit, confused as to why Arthur didn't want him as his sister's boyfriend.

Arthur sighed. ''Cause I race against him! What if they get together and then they break up or something? He might push me off the track! Or what if he hurts her? Then I'll kill him on the track.'' The man clarified his disdain for Ollie dating his younger sister.

''You're not killing anyone on track, okay? They're just going on dates, you're overthinking everything.'' Charles calmed him down. He wasn't too keen on his baby sister dating a driver, but he wasn't thinking like Arthur.

''I'm more offended that she didn't tell me anything, how long has this been going on?'' Charles continued, glancing at his mum.

Pascale thought for a few moments. ''A few months, with his racing and her school they can't meet that often.'' She answered.

''MONTHS?!'' Both of the Leclerc brothers chorused, absolutely shocked this wasn't something recent. ''What do you mean months? You're telling me this guy has been trying to get into my sister's pants for months and I didn't know about it?'' Arthur said, flabbergasted.

Pascale scoldingly hit his arm. ''Keep that language to yourself, Arthur! Y/N asked me to not tell anyone until she knew it was a bit more serious between them,'' she told the two of them, ''I don't want any of that negative energy around her, okay? She's always been supportive of whoever you two are dating and you're gonna do the same for her, understand?'' Pascale held a stern look on her face.

Their mother's scolding brought them back to earth. She was right, whether they liked their sister dating a driver or not, they had to support her, just like she has been supporting them.

''You're right, mum. We're gonna be supportive.'' Charles confirmed to her, giving her a hug. They both glimpsed at Arthur, who sighed but eventually joined their embrace. ''Okay, but if he breaks her heart, I'll just lightly touch him with my car.''

Y/N arrived home hours later, right in time for dinner. Both Arthur and Charles weren't home as they were called in to go to the Scuderia Ferrari home for either some meetings or simulation work. It was late in the night when they arrived home.

She was already falling asleep when Charles came into their shared room, trying not to make too much noise, but failing. ''Charles, be quiet.'' She mumbled, her pillow covering a bit of her mouth.

''Sorry, Chérie,'' he apologized, laying down on his mattress that was spread on the floor, ''how, uh, was your date with Ollie? I saw him working out in the gym.'' He asked, curiously.

Y/N had started to doze off again, but his question woke her up a little. ''We walked around Maranello and we got something to eat, and-''

''Did he pay?'' Charles interrupted.

''Yes, he paid.''

''Good.''

''Anyway- it was really nice and we talked a lot, so, uh, I had a great time.'' She finished her answer, closing her eyes again.

Charles simply hummed, trying to find the right words to say. ''That's good to hear, you think that it's getting serious between you two? That it's going somewhere?''

''Maybe, he's a really great person and I like hanging out with him, so I hope it's going somewhere.'' She truthfully replied, feeling weird about saying all of this to her older brother.

He nodded. ''Do you wa-''

''Perceval, I want to sleep.''

''Oh, okay! Goodnight, I love you.''

''...''

''...''

''I love you too.''

''...''

[vanishingcherry]

NO REGRETS

authors note: this is for my darling @cs55version. i love you so much and your idea was just too tempting so i hope i did it justice! to everyone who sent in something for the 1k celly, thank you so much! i've started writing a few and i'm gonna try and get them out soon

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Max had arrived to the Silverstone paddock slightly earlier than the other drivers, the team wanting to talk to him in person before the rest of the reporters and fans get there.

He walked into the motorhome, heading to Christian's office where he furrowed his brows at the sight of around 5 people in the room, a lot less that what he had been expecting.

"Hey guys... where is everyone else? Am I too early?" he chuckled, taking a seat and looking up in confusion when nobody replied.

"Uh Max, you're right on time." Christian said, looking around the room and making eye contact with Helmut for a few seconds before continuing. "It's not a team meeting, per se. We just had a couple thoughts about your girlfriend."

Max's eyes lit up at the mention of his girlfriend, his previously suspicious expression discarded for one of pure joy. "She's great isn't she?! I love her," he exclaims as he thinks about the facetime he was on with you just an hour ago.

Although the media and fans only found out a few days ago, close friends and family had known about the relationship for a few months. There were also a couple people on the RedBull team who Max trusted enough to tell, and it seemed that all of them were currently in the room.

"Yeah about that," his PR manager says, "we aren't sure if she's the best in terms of publicity and the image we are going for."

"What?" said Max, looking around to see if they were joking, anger boiling when he realised they weren't. "And what 'image' are we doing for exactly?"

"Max," Christian sighs. "Look, I'm happy that you're happy with her, really. But, I mean, her style of dressing and her music, it's just not something we're comfortable with."

"So?" Max questioned, still adamantly defending you. "It's what she's comfortable with, I don't see why you have an opinion here."

"Max, no one likes her." Helmut piped up from behind the boy. "We've seen the tweets and discussions and data, the fans just don't like her. They don't like the way she dresses or her lyrics or anything. "

Max was getting aggravated, not understanding what everyone else's opinion had to do with his relationship.

"Look." said Max, "I don't care. I like it, and she likes it and thats all that matters. I don't care about what the fans think, and neither does she. She has fans for fucks sake, isn't that proof enough that people like her?"

"We're sorry Max, but she isn't feasible for the team. It's your choice, but everyone thinks you should break up. I understand if you don't, but in that case we are going to have to do some form of damage control." His PR manager looks sympathetic, but Max could care less in the moment.

"Exactly, it's my choice. I am done with this conversation okay? We are not breaking up. Do whatever the fuck you want, but do not talk to me about her." Max slams the door behind him, walking away as everyone in the rooms sighs almost simultaneously, knowing that the conversation had gone miraculously bad.

"Do what you have to," said Christian to the PR team, "don't bother Max for a while."

liked by schecoperez, redbull and 1,639,857 others

redbullracing lovely to have you @.kellypiquet! ...perhaps a new couple on the grid? 👀

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f1fan WHAT? DID REDBULL JUST HARD LAUNCH MAX'S RELATIONSHIP?

↳ f1fan2 i am so confused bcs i remember him saying that his girlfriend was a singer in an interview

↳ maxfan1 oh yeah... forgot about that

↳ f1fan2 and as far as i know, kelly piquet isnt a singer

kellypiquet thanks for having me!

maxfan wait what happened to that other girl? were those actually just rumours then?

↳ maxfan3 probably 😭 people love making stuff up on twitter

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 2,239,857 others

maxverstappen this is my girlfriend, the most spectacular person i am honoured to know. i love you, schatje.

we weren't planning to tell the world yet, but i was forced to because of some false information my team has implied. nonetheless, i am very happy to share with the world the person i love most.

i would appreciate it if all the fans treat her with the respect she deserves.

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liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc and 823,059 others

yourusername no regrets

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