#very confused as to why people used a name that was very close to a preexisting monster. i know they're referencing the same thing but...

[thelostgirl21]

You are very welcome.

And while they are extremely well meaning, I read some of the comments in the replies, and I would say to be careful with some over-generalizations.

For example, saying "stay away from apps, it's better to..."

If you go on an app to meet people, there's bound to be other people potentially compatible with you that are going on apps to meet people, too.

Apps can be overwhelming because, just like in "real life" (a.k.a. life offline), they are filled with tons of different and sometimes weird (not the good kind) people.

But there are also gems in there, including introverted people for whom socialization or "naturally making contact with a seemingly nice and interesting looking stranger on the street" doesn't come easy.

And, while I do know people that found the "great love of their lives"™ through a friend of a friend, such situations can sometimes get messy.

Because when you get introduced to one of your friend's friends, that friend can kind of (without any malice on their part) put some pressure on you two to make it work, because they already "ship you two together".

In a context where you have a fear of rejection, you might consciously or subconsciously fear to disappoint or insult your friend should you not be compatible with the one they introduced you to, and try too hard to make it work to "please that friend", even if there are some things bothering you or little red flags trying to draw your attention.

Your friend might often keep asking you "so, how did it go?", while being all excited, and getting overinvolved, forcing you to put up some solid boundaries.

Not to mention that if you bring some of the red flags you've noticed to their attention, they could have the reflex of minimizing / justifying their friend's more worrying behavior, given how positively they perceive them.

So, if telling a close friends to politely mind their own business because it's confusing you doesn't come easy for you, it can become an added challenge on top of already attempting to navigate the beginnings of a relationship.

And those aren't necessarily things people will think to tell you.

Hence why I say that, when people tell you "avoid this or that context for meeting someone", know that there's almost always some type of bias involved.

You'll have people telling you that the best and most enduring types of relationships are those that start with being friends with someone first, because that's what ended up working for them.

But if you ever experience a strong mutual crush that swoops you off your feet, it could work just as well!

What will make it work, ultimately, is how you both take it from there and your ability (yes it's a huge cliché, I know, but it's still true) to learn to communicate needs and wants clearly, and become teammates dedicated to making each other feel safer and stronger together as you would on your own.

Your willingness to pool resources together and use each other's strengths to compensate for areas where your partner struggles more is a much bigger indicator of a relationship's potential success than how, where and when you met.

For example, my partner struggles putting words on emotions and gets easily overwhelmed by them when they get too strong.

I'm the opposite. I can clearly name and identify exactly what I feel, how it affects and influences me in the now, and put it aside to deal with it later if need be.

So, when there's conflict, I've learned that once I've made my case, I must give my partner room and space for him to retreat, think about my arguments more rationally, and then return when he feels more level headed. Otherwise, I'll push him into a corner where he'll start panicking, and use my own strengths against him.

We keep telling people that communication in relationships is key, but seldom take the time to explain the why and/or the how.

The truth is that humans are huge posers that like to project certain images or make things look easier than they are. We have egos, we seek approval, we try to look good in front of others. Couples will want to project the image of the perfect team.

It doesn't show you the amount of work, nurturing and care that goes into those relationships to make it work.

It doesn't teach you that you'll need to "learn how to fight"... but fight FAIR while aiming for win-win resolutions to conflicts.

It doesn't tell you that "good communication" involves establishing your own communication style and rules together as well.

Hollywood and the people around you are selling you a dream often without showing you all that is happening behind the scenes to make those relationships work. And, while there are some helpful guidelines, there's no "one size fits all".

And if you discover people's romantic expectations don't suit you, there are plenty of ways to experience relationships that don't need to fit neat little boxes.

Off the top of my head, I would say those would be some of the most important questions to ask yourself when you're wondering if the relationship could work and/or if it's working:

Does this person make me feel safe in the relationship,

Do I feel like I can trust them, or like I could learn to trust them as we continue getting to know each other better,

How do they respond to me when I expose my own vulnerabilities and insecurities to them (are they supportive and attempting to make themselves appear less intimidating, or are they mocking and attempting to make me feel smaller / defective),

Are they attempting to better understand me and learn to use communication styles that we'll both be comfortable using and clearly understand,

Are our respective needs and wants compatible and giving birth to mutual goals we can both work towards,

Do we make each other stronger and share a similar level of commitment to making the relationship work,

Does it enhance my level of happiness and sense of personal fulfillment in a way that makes me feel like the efforts and time I am investing in the other person are worth it?

And get ready for things potentially "not working out" despite the strong love, mutual understanding, or the amazing communication skills sometimes!

You might discover that you are extremely compatible as people, but that your life goals and objectives do not align. And you may realize you make better close trusted friends than romantic or even queerplatonic partners.

"Rejecting the partnership because you can't work together towards a mutual goal" does not have to mean "rejecting the person themselves".

And yes, you can absolutely stay close friends with an "ex" depending on the reasons that lead you to "break up".

When there's no abuse involved, and it's mostly a question of incompatible goals / lifestyles, there's no reason why you should cast each other from your respective lives.

So, I guess the big takeaway from this is that human partnerships are very complex dynamics that require a lot of time and effort to build and make work. But if you do find a good partner for you (or good partners, as polyamory is also a thing), they can offer you some added sense of safety, understanding, happiness and strength in your life.

Dating thoughts: I envy all the people who met someone for one or two times and already tell everyone: they are the love of my life.“

Of course this is most often not the reality but I wish I could have this confidence, instead I struggle with a lot of aspects

For example many of my female friends told me it is totally normal that some people do not want to hold hands etc in public before a relationship is not official. But I think it is kinda frustrating not to steal a touch here and there.

Never being in a relationship ever before gives me - on the one hand - the freedom to not care about all the bullshit rules people apparently have made up, but - on the other hand - lets me struggle a lot because I do not understand all the rules and immediately interpret it as an rejection

But how to address that without coming off as clingy and hysterical? I don’t think that’s possible.

So I just sit here and wonder.

[tastycitrus]

the idea of the demon's canon name just being demon is really funny

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?�� 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[sttm99]

Based on this story by @kumimi3

Prohero!Katsuki, who's modelling for Calvin Klein. Who's seen you in some magazines, commercials, or fashion blogs and hasn't ever paid much interest. There's something about media that diminishes beauty, such that a pretty face becomes mundane when on television.

So he doesn't care much until he sees you for the first time during a shoot.

And he thinks you're absolutely unreal.

You're beautiful, in a way that has people unable to look away, as if something will happen the moment their eyes leave you.

There is no camera in the world that does you justice, and annoyingly, it has him sweating a bit when you're close, your torso leaning on him.

"Stand over there," the photographer says, instantly ushering you to step over to Bakugo.

"We're just gonna get some shots in before your solos, YN." The photographer tells you. "Stand closer to Bakugo."

The shoot takes longer than what he's used to. It dragged on, with the photographer intent in getting you in every single position he could come up with.

"You're his muse," Bakugo hears one of the makeup artists say. "He's practically enamoured."

'She's beautiful, though... I would be, too,' he thinks.

The shoot ends, and he's already researching your name and company while in the car on the way back. He's consuming information about you rapidly, measurements and backstories, your agency and your nationality, your pictures.

In about two months or so, you're booked to model some line of merchandise for one of the larger Hero Agencies in Japan. You're sitting against a backdrop, moving through accessories and black pieces of clothing, all with a similar orange cross over the chest.

When you're changing, redoing your hair and makeup, one of the stylists whispers to you.

"Are you two close? Is that why he was so adamant about you?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking at her through the mirror. "What?"

She blinks at you, "He refused anyone else. Told them it was you or nothing. Just you."

You paused. You had only just recently moved down to Japan for work, and you were still just an upcoming face. You didn't know anyone influential in the field other than the photographer from some months ago, and he hadn't mentioned it.

"Who?"

The girl looks at you, then shrugs over to the door, where a guy you recognise is talking to the photographer. He's familiar, and it takes a moment before you remember he's the guy you did your Calvin Klein shoot with.

"Who is he?" You murmur, and the hair stylist and the makeup artist look at you like you're crazy.

"Bakugo Katsuki? Dynamight?"

"The Dynamight?" Your voice goes down to a whisper as shock fills you. You're looking at the makeup artist with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she's looking at you like the same way.

"Duh? You didn't know what he looked like?"

"I-" You stammer, trying not to give into the urge to turn back and stare at him. "I only just moved here.... I'm not too familiar with Japanese heroes.

The girl snorts. "Well, it looked like you're gonna be very familiar with Dynamight."

You turn back slowly but find that he's already looking at you.

[clockwayswrites]

One birdritch, two stones.

part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost

“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.

Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”

“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”

“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”

“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”

Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.

“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”

“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”

“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.

Tim tilted his head.

“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.

“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”

“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.

-

The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.

“Hello.”

The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.

Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.

They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.

“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.

They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.

“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.

Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”

“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”

“Explain?”

“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.

Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.

Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.

“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.

“You will come?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”

“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”

“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.

Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.

Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”

Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.

Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.

“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.

“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.

Cass signed Danny’s name sign.

“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.

“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”

Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”

“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”

“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.

Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.

“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.

Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?

-

“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.

“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.

Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.

But that hardly answered any of what was going on.

“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”

Cass nodded and crossed her heart.

Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.

---

AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)

Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.

[starcrossedslytherin]

The Marauder's Map

James Potter x Reader

WC: 6.9K

A/N: I feel like every few months or so I rise from the dead to post something, so here is a James fic I started, gods only knows when and have finally finished! Let me know your thoughts because I liked writing for James, I want to more.

Summary: James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter need help for a special resource for their pranks, so who better to go to than the best charms student Hogwarts has to offer- also the girl James seems to be in love with.

---

James was staring at you; you could feel it. 

You’ve always had a pretty good sense at telling when people were staring at you, but as you look up to meet James’ eyes for the fourth time today during breakfast before he quickly looks away, your stomach was swimming in nerves. 

“Lys, do I have something on my face?” You ask your friend Alyssa as you run a hand across your face, hopefully knocking away whatever has pulled James’ attention from the Gryffindor table to the Slytherin one. 

Alyssa furrows her brows but shakes her head. “None that I can see, why?” 

You frown. “Potter keeps looking at me.” 

“James Potter?” 

“Is there another Potter at this school that I haven’t met yet?” You press your lips together as Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Yes, James Potter.” 

She rolls her eyes before looking over at James. “I dunno, maybe he fancies you.” 

Her words cause your laugh to escape. “Are you mad? You think James Potter fancies me? James Potter?” 

“If we keep saying his full name like this, he’s bound to hear and look at us more.” Alyssa says before her eyes find the Gryffindor table again and a frown appears on her face. “Or rather they all will?” 

You pause in eating as you keep your eyes on Alyssa. “All of them?”

She tilts her head. “Well, James and Sirius are because they’re sitting on the side of the table that lets them, but Remus keeps turning back every once and while. The only one who hasn’t is Peter- oh, he’s doing it too. Yeah, it’s all of them.” You groan at her words, scooping the last bits of your breakfast into your mouth before hurrying to grab your things. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere they are not.”

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter watch as you practically run from your table. “You really think she’d help us?” Peter asks as he turns back to his food. 

James doesn’t look away from you until you were at the door of the Great Hall, looking at his table in confusion one last time before you’re gone. “I don’t see why not.” He finally says.

Remus chuckles under his breath. “Maybe because you just stared at her throughout her entire breakfast?”

Sirius took a bite of his cereal before pointing his spoon at James, talking through his food. “Yeah, that was creepy.”

James smacks his arm as Remus mumbles a ‘close your mouth’. “Well, I’ll just convince her then.” Remus, Sirius, and Peter all share a look as James leaves the table, knowing this could either end very well, or be a complete disaster. 

---

You end your escape in the library, finding a quiet table in the back as you finally let out a large breath and fall into the seat. You weren’t truly finished enjoying your breakfast, but you suppose at least now you can study in the library for a bit, hoping James and his friends focus their sights on someone else for the day.

Unfortunately, by the sight of James Potter sticking his head around the bookcase to your left, you realize that won’t be the case.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” You mutter to yourself and bury your face in your book. When you bring your head up, James stares back at you from across the table, shining his pearly white teeth as if this interaction between the two of you was normal. 

“Hello!” He says. You can’t help but just stare at him, blinking in confusion, but you don’t say anything. James’ smile slowly fades, and he clears his throat and furrows his brows. “I thought this would go easier.” He mumbles and you can just barely hear him.

You scoff, dropping your book on the table in front of you. “Okay, I think you’re going to have to try someone else if you want to add stalking to the list of hobbies of you and your merry men.”

James can’t help the upturn of his lips as he leans into the table. “Merry men?”

“Robin Hood?” You roll your eyes. “Robin Hood and the-”

“No, I uh, I get the reference. It’s just- you think I’m Robin Hood?”

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had with James.

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had.

“Why are you here?” you say slowly and cross your arms, choosing to lean back in your seat to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

James sat up, suddenly remembering why he had “stalking” you, as you put it, all morning. “Oh, uh,” He sucks in a breath. “How are you?”

You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “James Potter, we are 5th years now and have barely talked more than 20 times since day we met. I know you do not care how I am. Now. What. Do. You. Want?”

“We want your help with a prank.”

Now this sounds like James Potter and his “merry men”.

“A prank?” You ask, already skeptical of how you can be of help. “What kind?”

“It’s more of a resource, really.” He rubs the bottom of his face, staring off at your books in front of you in thought. You slap your hand over your books, causing the boy to finally meet your eyes. Your eyes flicker between his two hazel ones. 

“Why would you need my help with a resource for your prank? If it’s my house, there are loads of Slytherin’s and some of them might actually be willing to help you.”

“It’s not your house.” He shakes his head. You can’t stop yourself from watching the sight of his curly dark hair falling in front of his face. “You’re the best in our class at charms.”

“Any one of you is just as good as me.”

James shakes his head again, running a hand through his curls, ignoring the curls getting caught on his fingers as he pushes through. “No way. Remember last week? You were the only one in the class who didn’t walk out looking as orange as a pumpkin that lasted two days.”

“That’s because I was the only one who read the book.”

“No, it’s because you’re brilliant.”

You don’t have a response to James’ comment. It was obvious he was just trying to get on your good side so that you’d help with whatever this resource was. You hated the fact that it was working a bit. 

You sigh and push your books closed in front of you. “What is the resource?”

James’ face lights up and he quickly moves to the seat in next to you, pulling out a journal from his book bag. “That part is still a work in progress.” He flips through the pages, giving you a few quick glances at pranks he and his friends had come up with previously. You chuckle and shake your head. “Basically, what we are hoping for was a way to find anyone in the castle, wherever they are.”

He must be insane.

“What makes you think this would be something I knew how to do? I’m brilliant, Potter, but I’m not a bloody miracle worker.”

James was about to object as he turns to face you, but instead he just stares at you. Before you turn your head, James takes a sharp breath and pushes his glasses higher on his nose. “Well, we can work on it together. We’ll come up with something.”

“Potter…” you trail off, looking at the scrawled messy handwriting of the boy’s quick thinking on the page in front of you. You close the book. “Look, it sounds interesting. A challenge even, and I love challenges, but I don’t have time to waste with your silly little Gryffindor pranks. You’ll just have to find someone else or do it yourself.” 

James wants to object, saying you’re the best person for the task, but you were packing your things into your bag, and it wasn’t until you had almost left the table before he finally says, “We can use it to prank Snape.”

That got your attention.

It wasn’t a secret to everyone in Hogwarts that despite being in the same house, Severus Snape and you hated each other.

Your hand clenches and for a moment, James thinks he might have you. That is, until you turn around with a frown. “Sorry, Potter. Still not interested.”

---

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it.” Remus says, barely looking up at James over the book in his hand. 

James just grunts, keeping his glasses from slipping of his nose as he hangs upside off the couch, his curls reaching to the ground. “I don’t understand.”

“Why would she say no?” Sirius asks. He head was laying across Remus’ lap and he tries to annoy the boy while he’s reading by pushing the book away, but Remus is far too used to his antics as he slaps Sirius’ hand away without missing a word on the page. 

“Why would she say no!” James’ dramatic throw of his hands causes the other three boys to laugh at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, silently brainstorming where to go from here before Peter speaks up. “You didn’t flirt with her, did you?”

James stays silent. 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter can’t help themselves this time as their laughter filled the room, gathering the attention of other Gryffindor’s in the common room as James’ cheeks turn the darkest shade of red that they’ve ever seen.

“Blimey mate, what did you say?” Sirius chucks a pillow at James, and he can’t catch it in time, letting it smack his chest before he moves to sit up. 

“Nothing! I swear! I didn’t- I didn’t… I may have flirted just a tiny- a teensy tiny bit.” His voice is quiet at the end of his sentence out of embarrassment. 

If James thought his friends laughing at him earlier was bad, it was nothing compared to now. He does nothing but cover his face in his hands, waiting for the sounds to stop.

“What did you say?” Sirius jumps to the couch next to James, throwing his arm around his shoulders and bring him closer to his side. 

“Nothing!” James claims, but even he knows it was a lie. He sighs in defeat. “I just- I called her brilliant, that’s it.”

“Oh, Prongs, you might as well have gotten down on a knee and proposed!” Sirius claps him on the back before laughing at his best friend’s humiliation once more. Remus and Peter’s laughter grows with Sirius’ comment. James just shakes his head and heads out of the common room throwing his middle finger up to his friends.

He’d dealt with his friends joking around about his crush on Lily for years, but it was different with you.

That might be because James never told his friends about his crush on you, they just figured it out. Even before James knew.

Walking toward the black lake, wanting to get some fresh air, James stops at the sound of a familiar voice. He ducks behind a pillar.

“Snape, just leave her alone!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that was your voice. He glances out, watching as you jog over to two other people. One of them obviously being Snape. The other James could barely make out, until Snape takes a step away from her and he realizes that she was your friend from breakfast. There’s an argument that James can’t hear from where he’s standing between you and Snape and Alyssa ducks behind you. You turn around, wanting to walk away with Alyssa before Snape pulls out his wand. 

James’ eyes widen and he reaches for his own, only to realize he left it in the common room in his quick leave. He curses himself, hoping you turn around before Snape curses you behind your back. Instead, Snape aims for Alyssa and before you can stop it or before James can sprint out from behind the pillar, Snape is holding Alyssa in the air above the water.

“Put her down!” you yell and point your wand at him. Snape can only snicker before he lets Alyssa fall right into the lake. “Lys!” You yell, knowing your friend isn’t the best at swimming. You jump in to help her out, and by the time you both are back on land, soaking wet, Snape was gone and James was helping you both out of the water. 

Once Alyssa was out first, you take James’ outstretched hand soaking his sleeves, but he doesn’t care. He makes sure you’re okay, but he’s stopped when you grab both of his arms, getting him to look you in the eyes.

“I’ll help you with that resource.” You tell him, tired of Snape bullying your friends and you. “I want this to be something that’s going to haunt Snape for years and years to come.”

James can only smile at you.

You smile back.

---

“Ok, just start again from the beginning.” You plead the four boys in front of you as you crowd around a table in the library as the 6th hour of reading resources starts. You’ve never really seen the group of friends really in action of planning their pranks, but keeping up with them as you flip through the library books you’ve all read from the shelves has been really hard.

“We want to be able to know where anyone is at any time.” Sirius says as he lays across the table, kicking his legs up in the air. You nod, looking down at the book pile in front of you as you pick up a book and toss it behind you where Remus is standing to let him put it back on the shelf.

“It only needs to be in the castle.” Peter points out, earning hums from his friends. No use for a prank resource outside of the castle, apparently. You toss two more books back.

“Oh!” You hear Remus say as you flip through pages, he glances over your shoulder, looking at the books you have. “We should have all the secret passages marked on it too!”

You sigh and add 4 books to your discard pile. You’re left with 3 books, each of them potentially having information you knew would be useful to the friend group, you just had to figure out what information. 

James slides into the seat next to you and you quickly meet his eyes. James’ sucks in a breath, not having expected to meet your eyes as he sat down. There’s a moment where James almost forgets his friends are in the room and you’re not just helping him. He only grounds himself back to reality when you turn your head, chewing on your lip nervously. “We uh, we were also thinking it can be something only we can use.”

James’ voice was quieter than he normally was, but it didn’t matter. 

You knew the perfect spell to use.

“The Homonculous Charm.” You tell the group, turning your book around and showing the marked charm to the others. “You cast it onto a blank parchment, and it tracks where everyone is around the castle, whenever, wherever, and whoever.” The group of boys in front you have different looks of astonishment. 

But, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that Remus, Sirius, and Peter were looking at the book in your hands and James, well, he was looking right at you.

You clear your throat, hoping to push the boy’s attention off of you. “All you have to do is cast the charm on a parchment and map the place.”

“Easy!” Sirius yells, giving Peter a high five. “Let’s cast it and get to pranking Snivellus!”

“Doesn’t look like its that easy, Pads.” Remus puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he reads over the page you show them.

You nod your head. “If you want a place to show up on the map, you have to actually cast the charm in the place.” There were 4 groans from the boys, and you hold back a laugh. 

“That could take weeks.” James sighs, leaning his head back in the chair. “Do you know how big this castle is?”

“It wouldn’t take weeks, maybe just a few days and I’m sure you guys can do it.” You tell them, pushing on James’ shoulder. James’ frown turns up a little at your playfulness and you’re quick to pull your attention of him. You start to pull your things together and stand up. “Now, if we’re done here-”

“Wait, where are you going?” Sirius asks, tugging on your bag. 

You swat his hand off your bag. “Leaving. I helped and now you can prank Snape to your heart’s desire.”

“To our hearts desire?” James questions, standing up to be at your height. His eyes meet yours and there’s a pause in his speech before he practically drags his eyes away, forcing himself to look at the book. “Time would go a lot faster if you helped.”

You guffaw and throw yourself into the seat again. “You have like a million friends. Can’t you trick some of them into helping you?”

“We could.” Peter shrugs and moves to stand on the other side of the table than you, placing it between the two of you.

Sirius threw his arm around Peter. “But then you wouldn’t really get revenge on Snivellus.”

Remus stood next to them, his hands buried in his jeans as he smirks. “And isn’t that what you wanted when you agreed to help?”

James joins them as well, squishing together as all four stare directly at you with various forms of mischief on their faces. “So? What do you say?”

They were right.

Screw them, but they were right.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s the plan?”

---

Alyssa had been laughing for what seemed like an hour as you both lay on your respective beds. You told her all about your little study session with the boys today and she apparently found it quite amusing what you’ve got yourself wrapped into. “It’s not funny, Lys.”

“Are you mad? You, being forced to spend as much time as you can with your crush and his best mates mapping the entire school to get back at Snape?” She chuckles. “This is the funniest thing that has happened to you since you blew up your book bag practicing for exams last year.”

“I don’t have a crush on James.” You groan, throwing your arm across your eyes, blocking the stray sunlight coming in from the window.

“James?” Alyssa asks seemingly confused. “I was talking about Sirius.”

You couldn’t help your snort of laughter at her comment. You knew she was joking, and she knew you were harboring secret feelings for the curly dark-haired, glasses wearing boy. “Can I just get some sleep?” You ask her, ignoring the fact it was barely dinnertime. “If I have to stay up all night mapping the castle with them, then I am sleeping now.”

“Fine by me.” Alyssa tells you, chucking a pillow at you before pulling out a book since she didn’t have plans to sleep early. You get smacked by the pillow and send a weak attempt at slinging it back at her before finally heading to bed.

---

“I’m going tonight.” James says to his friends the moment they step into the common room, making sure his voice is hushed. “If Y/N is going, then I’m going.”

His friends don’t bother hiding their laughs. “Mate, as if we would keep you from roaming the castle in private with the love of your life.” Sirius snickers, giving James a little push that has him falling onto the couch. “Besides, you only have the one invisibility cloak and last time we had 3 of us in there, Remus had his hand on my butt.”

“Remus would have his hand on your butt even if we didn’t have the cloak.” James grumbles, feeling Remus smack him in the back of the head. “Ow!” James groans, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. “Am I wrong?” He asks, only to look over and see Remus starting to lay across the couch coincidentally, or not, laying his head on Sirius’ lap. 

James rolls his eyes at his best friends before he pulls out his books, thinking he’s going to get some studying in before dinner. “You’re not going to get some sleep?” Peter asks, seeing his friend studying. James shakes his head, knowing if he tried to sleep right now, there would only be one person on his mind. 

---

This wasn’t the first time you had snuck out of the Slytherin common room, but this was the first time you were just standing around begging to be caught out of bed. You tap your foot, glancing every direction for any of the boys to come around the corner, but you didn’t see them. You were about to give up, not wanting to be caught by a professor. You had taken one step before James appears, standing right in front of you. His presence scares you and you can’t hold back the scream you release. 

James jumps at the sound. He should have figured you would’ve reacted to him taking off the cloak, but he didn’t expect you to start screaming. He jumps forward, covering your mouth with his hand as he presses you against the wall. “It’s just me! It’s James!” He whispers as loud as he can, wanting you to stop screaming but not wanting anyone else to hear. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his and when he was certain you were done screaming, he brings his hand away. He didn’t realize how close your bodies were to each other until you were looking at each other. A moment passes before James clears his throat. “Um, hi.”

The spell is broken as you shake your head, pushing him away gently and slapping his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Where did you even come from?”

James chuckles a bit at the situation, gripping the cloak in his hand as he puts his other on your arm to calm you down. “I’ll tell you.” He assures you. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

You just blink in confusion. James doesn’t say anything else before he throws the cloak around his shoulders, affectively leaving him as a floating head. You suck in a breath. “An invisibility cloak?” You had never seen one before. James liked looking at the amazed smile on your face, he hoped he see it again soon. 

“Who’s there!” James and you jump at the sound of a professor, obviously looking for the source of your scream from earlier. James was quick to pull you into him, wrapping the two of you in the cloak as you press your body against his. James’ arm wraps around your waist as he keeps the cloak closed and you both watch the professor pass right by, completely unaware of your presence.

James gives it a few minutes before he pulls the cloak off, slowly letting go of your waist. You exhale heavily, taking a step back from James. The two of you stand awkwardly next to each other, neither of you truly knew what to say to each other. 

“Nice cloak.” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be but, in your defense, the closeness you had to James was still high on your mind.

James hoped the night light had hidden the blush on the cheeks that he knew was going to be there. “Thanks- Thank you.” He stumbled through, avoiding looking at you.

You suck in a breath, trying to think of what to say before forcing a smile. “Should we get going?”

“Yep. Yeah, let’s just uh…” 

James’ sentence had trailed off, but it didn’t matter as he pulled out a piece of parchment paper from his pocket. You raise a brow at it and cross your arms. “Is that supposed to be for the map?” James nods. “Potter, have you seen the size of this castle? One corridor wouldn’t even fit on that page.” 

James frowns. He thought the paper he brought was large enough, but you might have a point. You roll your eyes and take him by the arm to a nearby classroom, knowing the professor kept larger pieces of parchment on hand. James hoped greatly that you didn’t notice how eager he was to remain with your arm locked with his.

“Take this.” You hand James a folded piece of parchment, and being the curious person James Potter was, he let it unfold. The parchment kept unfolding until it was taller than him and then some, hitting the ground with a soft thud. He looks at you, widening his eyes. “You wanted a map.” You remind him. “Let’s just hope this one is big enough.”

---

You let James take the lead with holding the cloak, ready to throw it over you both the moment he needed, and you would cast the spell onto the soon-to-be map. Unfortunately, you both found yourselves quite bored with the task. “How’s Quidditch?” You ask James, desperate for a distraction. 

James smiles, glad to talk about a subject he enjoys. “Amazing, as usual. Haven’t lost yet this year.”

You smirk. “Well, that’s because you’ve haven’t played Slytherin yet.”

James has to hold back a laugh. “Please,” you bite your cheek hearing James’ playful tone. “We’ll beat Slytherin next weekend just as easily as we did Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.”

“I don’t know, we got a new seeker. Heard he’s quite good.” 

“Better than me?”

You choose to glance at him, and you’re not surprised to see the cocky smile sitting pretty on his lips. This time you don’t fight the smile on your face. “I’ve never seen you play, Potter. How am I supposed to know how good you are?”

James stops walking and it takes you a moment to notice before you stop as well. “You’ve never watched a Gryffindor match before?” James looks as if his head would explode.

“I’ve never even seen a Slytherin match before.” You admit. You would admit only to yourself that you were a little embarrassed. 

James just stares at you, his mouth fallen open in pure shock. “You’re joking.” He says before you slowly shake your head. “You’re joking!” You chuckle softly, amused at his response. He shakes his head and starts walking again. “You’re coming. Next weekend, when Gryffindor beats Slytherin, I expect to see you in the stands.”

You can’t help but smile at his comment. “Yeah, we’ll see.” You say, turning down the corridor as you cast the spell again, watching the paper map out the corridor. James smiles and nudges your shoulder softly with his. 

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more to map.” He says before the two of you start down the hallway quicker, almost racing each other to the end. You both laugh as you reach the end of the hall, stopping and leaning against the walls as you catch your breaths. 

“I so won.” You say to him, despite knowing you didn’t.

James rolls his eyes affectionately. “In your dreams.” He breathes out. You look at him, holding his gaze with a smile for a few moments before the two of you hear a door open down the hall and footsteps coming. James turns the way of the sounds before he pulls the cloak over the two of you, pressing you into the wall again. 

You stop breathing as he presses you against the wall, hiding you as a professor walks down the hall, completely unaware of the two of you there. Once they are gone, James and you relax and he lets the cloak fall, but doesn’t move back. It isn’t until you glance down to the map and see something moving. You gasp. “James.” You whisper, holding it up for the two of you to watch as the map shows you the professor moving down the hall, his name remaining on the map until he walks into an uncharted area. 

James looks at the map before looking at you. “It works.”

You smile and nod, in shock that this resource was actually working. You couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders for a hug if you tried, but you also didn’t try.

James was shocked for a moment before he hugs you back, smiling and blushing over your shoulder. 

You pull away a bit embarrassed. “Sorry… I got excited.” You say, stepping away from the wall and from him.

James shook his head with a smile, obviously not minding. He clears his throat and pushes his glasses higher. “Um, should we get back to it?” He says, unable to stop the smile on his face. 

You nod, barely looking at him long enough to notice as you start walking again, holding the map up and focusing on it as James and you walk the halls until a few hours before morning. 

You yawn for the hundredth time that hour as James does as well. “I suppose we should get back.” James says, running a hand through his curly hair. 

You nod, feeling exhausted. “You four can map a few places in the day too.” You tell him during the walk back to the Slytherin common room.

James nods, knowing you’re right. The conversation finds a comfortable low again until you see the Slytherin common room ahead of you, relieved that you and James didn’t get caught. “See you tomorrow?” James asks you, his smile still on his face, only softer. You turn and look at him, matching his smile as you nod. 

“Goodnight, Potter.” You whisper, handing him the map. 

James takes the map, your fingers brushing lightly together before you drop your hand and he’s left with the tingling sensation of your touch as you turn and walk away. “Yeah. Goodnight.” He says barely loud enough for you to hear as he watches you enter your common room. He swallows thickly and looks down to the map before turning around and heading back to the Gryffindor common room. 

When he gets back, Remus and Peter were still asleep, but Sirius wakes up when he hears James comes back. “How was it?” Sirius whispers to James, not wanting to wake up his other friends. James tosses him the map, showing him how much you and him covered in the castle. Sirius looks at the large parchment and the small, yet decent sized for one night, portion of the castle mapped and nods while widening his eyes. “Good job,” He says, putting the map in his bedside table. “but you know I wasn’t asking about the map.” Sirius says with a smirk. 

James blushes in the darkness and slips into his pajamas. “It was good.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at James’ simple answer, but he’s not stupid. He can see the blush on his best friend’s face. “Fall in love with her yet?” He teases James who groans, falling into his bed. 

James stays silent, closing his eyes. “She hugged me.”

Sirius can’t help the amused chuckle as he lays back in his bed, ready to sleep again. “Well, I better be best man at the wedding.” He mumbles sleepily.

James can’t help but grin, staring at the ceiling above him until he falls asleep as well.

---

The next few days and nights happened similar to the first night, only with different pairs of the 5 of you. Sometimes you wouldn’t map out the castle, or sometimes you’d map it with Sirius or Remus. It took a few days before you and James were given the chance to go together again and unfortunately, the map was almost completed. The two of you had seen each other in the day time a lot as you started to hang out with the 4 boys, but James and you hadn’t gotten a lot, if any, alone time together. 

You were leaning against the wall at the Slytherin common room, wondering who you were going with tonight before James’ smiling face pops out of nowhere. You don’t scream like the first night, instead, you match his smile. “So, it’s me and you then?”

“You and me.” James says before offering you his elbow. You roll your eyes with a soft smile and interlock your arm with his. You walk towards one of the last corridors you have. 

“We’ll probably finish this tonight.” You say, glancing over at James.

He nods, his smile falling slightly before he looks at you and it returns. “It’s been fun.” He says and you nod. “Is it wrong that I wished we had more to map?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t think so. But we also have been mapping for almost a week straight.” You chuckle. “I think I’m ready to be done with it.” He laughs but agrees. As much as he enjoys this, it will be nice to finally have the map finished. You turn to James and narrow your eyes. “Also, I thought Peter was supposed to map with me today, you have your game tomorrow.”

“I just wanted to make sure you would come tomorrow.” James lies. He did want to make sure you’d come to watch him tomorrow, but he also wanted to make sure you and him would get some alone time again without his friends or yours breathing down his neck. 

You laugh at his comment, looking down at the map. “I promise I’ll come.” You tell him, before looking at him the same time he looks at you. 

For a moment, with your closeness, the two of you just stand there, staring at each other before James’ eyes move down to your lips. 

For a moment, you think he might kiss you.

Until he clears his throat and looks away. 

You feel a little embarrassed, but you don’t let it show. You start walking again, James and you falling into a weird silence as James screams at himself in his head. He keep taking glances at you, but you don’t look at him, not until you reach the new corridor and you pull out the map. “Here, help me out?” You say, handing him one of the ends of the map, needing to find the corridor on this map to map it. James takes it and holds it out as the two of you look for the corridor.

“There it is.” James points to where the map had to be changed, adding flaps and such to represent the different levels of the rooms. You pull open the flap and smile when you find the corridor. 

“Perfect!” You say before folding the map carefully so you could keep that section free. James helps you, trying to keep his mind from running crazy when your fingers brush again. You cast the charm and James and you continue with mapping the castle. The conversation was simple with him. After the two of you get pass the awkwardness of your moment from before, you found it easy to talk about anything. About your family’s, your friends, your hobbies, your dreams. It seemed James and you didn’t stop talking, just like that first night, until you find yourself in front of the Slytherin common room again.

The Slytherin common room was the actual last place the map needed. The plan always being for you to take it and map it without the need for any of the boys to sneak in like they did with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff common rooms. 

“I should be finished by morning.” You assure James as you fold the map and slip it into your robes. He nods, his smile pulling up on one side as he pushes up his glasses. 

“Well, you can give it to me at the game. Tomorrow. 9 am.”

You bite your lip as you smile and nod. “Goodnight, Potter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You whisper before leaning up and kissing his cheek. James just stood there stunned as you chuckle lightly and run off to your common room.

It was only when he hears the door close that he’s pulled from his trance. He calls out your name, but it was too late. He runs a hand over his face, making sure not to touch his cheek you’ve just kissed before he throws the cloak over himself and heads back to his room. He was going to try and get a few hours before his game, but now, he knows he won’t.

---

James was bouncing the next morning as he stands on the Quidditch Pitch, preparing for the game and looking around the stands for you. 

“Turns out when you don’t go to any games, you don’t really know where to sit.”

James turns around fast at the sound of your voice, surprised to see you down here and not in the stands. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks over to you. “I thought you weren’t coming for a moment.”

You smile at him and lean against the wall. “Yeah, I made a promise.” James nods, walking until he was right in front of you and smiling at you. He had sweat in his hair from his pre-game practice and his uniform was a little dirty, but he made it work. You take a deep breath and reach into your bag. “I finished it.” You pull out the map, showing him the completed Slytherin common room before holding it out to him.

As soon as James grabs the map, you pull it toward you, affectively pulling his as well until you put a hand on his shoulder and kiss him. When he doesn’t kiss back, you let go of him and the map, your eyes wide as you stumble backwards a little. “I’m sorry. I- I- I thought-“

But you don’t get to finish your sentence because once James gets over his shock at the revelation that you were really kissing him, he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you back, letting the map fall to the floor as he holds you close and kisses you deeply.

You swear that the stands were cheering for the two of you, not for the game was soon to start. 

“Oi!” Sirius’ teasing voice calls out from behind James as you both separate and look behind him, seeing Sirius’ grin as he leans against his broom. “Are we going to play or not?”

James gives him the middle finger as you slap his hand down playfully, keeping his hand in yours. James chuckles and looks back at you before he picks up the map and looks at it. “Why don’t you keep this safe for a bit longer. Wouldn’t want it to fall into someone else’s hands, now would we? You can watch everyone in the castle with this.”

You take the map before shrugging. “Well, almost everyone.”

James furrows his brows in confusion for a moment before sighing and grinning. “You’re the exception, aren’t you?”

You smile and pat his chest.  “You think I’m going to give you, James Potter, a map to where I am every moment of the day? You must be mad.” James just grins at you before your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh! Something else!” You say before turning the map over, showing James the cover of the map you created for them.

James was shocked as he looked at it, not knowing I had done something like that for them. He reads the words before chuckling. “The Marauders?” 

You blush and shrug. “Figured it was better than calling you lot the Merry Men.” 

James hums. “I thought I was Robin Hood?” 

“Face it,” You chuckle before joking, “I’m Robin Hood.” 

James nods slowly as he puts his hands on your waist again, pulling you against him. “Alright, alright.” He says before leaning towards you again and stealing another kiss which you happily accept. James chases your lips for a second moment as you two separates before he reaches into his bag. “Maybe you could keep something else safe for a bit too?”

You watch him, not knowing what he was grabbing before he grabs out another one of his jerseys and holds it up to you. “James-“

“Wear my jersey.” He interrupts you and you have to look away and smile. He sees the smile before he steps forwards and slips the jersey over your head, helping you get your arms through before stepping back and enjoying the sight. 

“Go win your game.” You say to him, reaching forward and squeezing his hand. “I’ll find you afterward.”

James squeezes your hand back before slowly walking backwards with a goofy grin. “Well, you have the map, love. Should be easy.” He gives you wink before he runs off,  meeting up with Sirius who throws his arm over his shoulder to tease him. 

You laugh as you watch them before heading up to the stands where Remus and Peter were, neither of them surprised to see you in James’ jersey.

And when Gryffindor wins against Slytherin, none of them are shocked to see James point at you in the stands as he smiles. 

•

Don't come at me if I don't really know how the charm works, I had a cute idea and went with it lol.

[fangirl-dot-com]

🤨Everyone is Convinced that You Aren't Together

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x FerrariDriver!Reader Genre: Fluff/SMAU Warning: Name calling? Summary: What is your love language? Acts of service? Quality time? Physical touch? Let's just say that you and Logan have a very different type, and no one thinks that you could actually be together.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“Hey dickwad!” 

The sound of the not-so-nice name had people in the main hospitality turning in your direction. However, the person whose attention you were trying to get kept on eating his lunch, making you more semi-annoyed than you already were. 

You huffed rather loudly before sitting down across from him and whoever he was eating with. The table, comprising of Lando, Oscar, and Alex, was filled with pairs of wide eyes except for two. When the blond still didn’t look at you, you reached over and grabbed a fry off his plate. 

Then, and only then, did he finally look up to glare at you. Oscar just kept eating. 

“Did you seriously just take my last fry?” Logan questioned, eyes squinting in a glare. 

You raised an eyebrow in retaliation. “Yes. And?” 

“It was my last fry, fat ass.” 

“Like I said: yes, and?” 

Logan huffed, knowing that this was a losing battle already from the start. He put his head back down and started to finish his chicken sandwich. You had momentarily blanked at what you were there for, before quickly remembering. 

You looked to the man on your left. “Are you using this?” 

Lando, with wide eyes, shook his head as he watched you take his spoon. You reeled your hand back and threw it at Logan. When it hit him in the head, he looked back up at you. 

“What the actual heck was that for, whore?” 

You shrugged. “I remembered why I was here.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. “And you decided to throw a spoon at me?” 

“Yes. You forgot your jacket again at the hotel.” 

Alex, who had been in fear of a giant argument breaking out, watched as Logan’s eyes visibly softened. He had been confused for the entire thing. 

“Did you bring it here?” 

“No.” 

Then Alex watched the glare of annoyance come back to the blonde’s eyes while you smirked. 

“Y/n!” 

You turned around at the sound of your teammate’s voice. 

“Yeah, Charles?” 

Charles could see that Alex and Lando were getting uncomfortable at the table and wanted to subtract you from the equation (even if that meant taking you away from your boyfriend). He could sense Logan’s “playful” glare from outside the hospitality. 

“We have a meeting in five minutes.” 

“Oh shit.”

You quickly stood up and rounded the table, stopping right in front of Logan’s chair. The American looked up at you. Lando and Alex watched as you stooped down. A sigh of relief was on the cusp of Lando’s lips, hoping that you’d kiss the American before you left. 

However, you just flicked his forehead. “Don’t forget to drink water, bitch.” 

With that you left with Charles on your right, conversation already flowing due to the race that weekend. 

Alex and Lando looked at Logan with wide eyes and were still surprised to see a pretty neutral facial expression as he ate a bite of his sandwich. Next to him, Oscar seemed unbothered as well. Logan was just finishing his sandwich when his eyes landed on something by Lando. 

“She left her water bottle after telling me to remember to drink water. What a cunt.” 

With a sigh, Logan stood up, grabbed the bottle and his plate, and walked over to the door. He put his dish in the return station before walking out the door. Alex’s and Lando’s eyes were glued to Logan’s figure before he went out of sight. After they turned to Oscar who was looking at his phone. 

The Aussie could feel the pair of eyes on him, but decided against it. There were a few moments of silence before George came over and sat in Logan’s empty seat. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asked, fork stabbing his food. 

Lando blinked a bit. “George, would you call Carmen a cunt?” 

George’s face twisted in disgust. “No?” 

“Would Carmen call you a bitch?” 

The Briton shook his head. “I hope not.” 

Lando’s head hit the table in a thunk, making George turn to Alex. “What’s wrong with him?” 

Alex rubbed his face. “What’s wrong with Logan and Y/n is the better question. They must be messing with us, because there is no way that they’re together.” 

George took a bite of his salad. “They are a bit . . . odd. Pretty mean to each other if you ask me.” 

“They’ve been like this for forever. It’s nothing new,” Oscar finally decided to add his piece. “It’s their love language.” 

Lando scoffed. “Like words of affirmation?” 

“More like words of insults. I could never insult Lily like that,” Alex muttered, taking a sip of his drink. 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Y/n grew up with brothers and so did Logan. It’s romantic teasing if anything. You saw how Logan grabbed her water bottle. He probably took it to her.” 

Lando held his arms out. “But she didn’t bring his jacket! Is it one sided love from Logan?”

The Aussie just huffed, before he turned around. “Benny, did Y/n bring Logan’s jacket by Williams this morning?” 

The personal trainer, who had been silently laughing at the whole ordeal, smiled. “Yep. And she brought him his protein shake since we were out.” 

Oscar pointed. “See? And Ferrari doesn’t even carry those types of shakes.” 

Benny shook his head. “Nope. She would have had to go out to get it.” 

Lando was still unconvinced. “There is still no way. Maybe they can be best friends, but a couple? It’s not happening.” 

Alex winced. “I think I have to agree with Lando on this one.” 

Oscar wanted to refute once again, but he noticed it was time to go. He only hoped that maybe this weekend, Lando would be able to see that you and Logan were together. He knew that the fights between you two were good jests, and the insulting nicknames started from an inside joke that he didn’t even know the extent of. 

When it came time for the drivers’ parade, Oscar pointed out how you and Logan were practically joined at the hip. He took his designated spot to Logan’s left, while you stood to the right. He gestured for Lando and Alex to join him. 

But with a group, it seemed like you and Logan wanted to amp your antics. 

You waved to the crowd with a dazzling smile; however, your words to Logan were not as nice. Your elbow connected with Logan’s side. 

“Think you can actually finish the race today, loser?” 

Lando winced at your harsh words. Alex just stared with wide eyes. Oscar just sighed.

Logan kept his smile sharp as he also waved. His finger shoved your face back. “You think you can maybe win a race, asshat?” 

From behind you two, Max and Lewis had their mouths open as Charles giggled. The Monegasque was well aware of yours and Logan’s fun nicknames as he had heard many phone conversations since you became his teammate. 

Max leaned over to Charles. “Did she really just say that?” 

A nod from the Ferrari driver confirmed that the Dutchman did, in fact, just hear you say that. Not wanting to hear any other comments, everyone else left you two to be. But doing so, they missed Logan’s arm wrap around your waist and your head resting on his shoulder. 

The race, for you, went surprisingly well. You had, once again, finished second behind Charles, who had managed a second race win of the season in Barcelona. Max finished the podium placers. You had been too busy to try to find Logan right after the race, but you wished deep down that he had at least finished. 

After the podium, you had been on your way to media when Ellie, your PR manager pulled you to the side. 

You cocked your head. “Is everything all right?” 

The girl bit her lip nervously. “Well, Logan finished in points today. It was P8 actually. But he had some issues with Lance during the race.” 

Well, that had your blood pressure rising. 

Your eye brows scrunched. “Did something happen?” 

Ellie looked down at the floor, not wanting to be on the receiving side of your anger. Everyone knew that you, and only you, could mess with Logan about his racing. 

“Stroll mentioned something about Logan’s racing style and made some snide comments.” 

You took a deep breath before turning to walk toward the media pit. “I’m guessing you have something for me to say?” 

The poor girl tried to keep up with your bigger strides as she thrust her phone near you. You had barely glanced at the words before deciding that you didn’t want anything to do with what Ferrari had written out. 

You were a bit out of breath as you approached the microphone. You licked your lips before glancing over at Ellie, a pitiful look on your face. You wanted to say sorry for what you might say during the interview. 

“I’ll say what I want,” was picked up by the mic, making the journalist wince a bit. 

You looked at the journalist as you put your hat on. The man tried to smile before he asked you some questions about your race. He could tell that you were disinterested in the questions, so he steered the interview in a different direction. 

“We watched Logan, your boyfriend, finish the race in P8. It was a really nice race on his part. Have you been able to watch the finish?” 

You shook your head. “I wanted to see him after the race but I had to be on the podium. I’m sure he did a very great job, and I’m proud of him getting points.” 

Both Ellie and the journalist saw a sliver of a smile on your face. Too bad it was about to disappear. 

The man clinched his teeth before speaking again. “After what Lance Stroll said on the radios and after the race, do you have any plans to speak up on that?” 

Your head cocked in a slightly annoyed manner; smile wiped from your face. Around, you, some drivers went silent as they waited for your words. Charles had been behind you, waiting for his turn. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, and his eyes kept glancing to your back. 

Oscar, who had been talking to Alex, also went quiet before they were called to do their own interviews.   

“I can’t speak on something I haven’t heard him say. Do you want to do the honors of telling me?” 

Your hands rested on the barrier, shoulders hunching. Everyone was bracing for impact. 

“He said some choice words over the radio, and then said, ‘Sargeant is lucky that his driving style is cowardly. He’s a dumb ass for trying to pull that move, which inevitably ruined my race. He’s just a total idiot. Next year will be nicer for sure’.” 

You pursed your lips as you mulled over Lance’s words. He was definitely insinuating that Logan wasn’t going to be on the grid next year. Something that no one knew for sure. Your eyes flickered around, trying to find some shade of green. However, you couldn’t see any, and maybe that was for the best. 

You gave a very fake smile as you said your response. “Well, Lance is just a cunt, and he can learn to keep his mouth shut. I haven’t seen anything about his contract renewal, so he should really focus on his races. I can show him cowardly if he would like?” 

Your smile was sickening as you slightly threatened the Canadian. It was then that you decided the interview was over as you thanked the man before turning around to leave. Ellie gave him an apology as she trailed behind you. 

On the way to Williams, you had managed to lose Ellie. On the inside, you were apologetic for how you acted today, but Logan needed you. You really weren’t expecting to see Lance on the way, but somehow fate was in your favor, and against his. 

Oscar, who had finished, was behind you and saw the moment you made a bee-line for the Canadian. 

“Oh shit,” he muttered, picking up his pace to possibly stop you from hitting the brunet. 

When he got there, your finger was pressed against Lance’s chest as you berated him in front of the paddock. 

Alex and Lando, who had joined Oscar in trying to gently redirect your attention, were wanting to start laughing as how scared Lance was. They had finally started to drag you away, but you were still not done with Lance. 

“And if you think that you’re safe on the grid, then you’re a bigger dumb ass than I thought. You better watch out Stroll. Your head is getting too big for your body. A beau cave is what you are, and yes, I can speak French you insolent fool!” 

Oscar snorted as they finally got you into the Williams garage, Lance out of sight. You were puffing still as you tried to calm down. 

“Are you done now?” a voice sounded, making everyone’s head whip around. There Logan stood, now out of his race suit and into more comfortable clothes. 

You pouted. “Yes.” 

Logan affectionately rolled his eyes as he walked over. He put his arm around your shoulders and brought you in. “You didn’t have to do that you know. Ferrari might get mad.” 

You huffed again, sticking your head into Logan’s chest. “No one gets to call you dumb ass except for me.” 

The American hummed before kissing your forehead and then your lips. 

While you two were caught up in the moment, Alex and Lando had their mouths open. Oscar had a smirk on his face as he looked at two others. 

“Now do you believe me?” 

Lando blinked for a moment. “I do now.” 

Alex rubbed his chin. “They’re actually quite cute.” 

You knocked yourself out of Logan’s arms before punching his shoulder. Logan gawked at you as he rubbed the hurt spot. 

“What the hell was that for you bitch?” 

“That was for getting points and not telling me you swine!” 

Oscar smacked his forehead. “And we’re back.” 

logansargeant has posted

liked by sargeant4president, y/nferrari, logan2sargeant, and 74,039 others

logansargeant finally putting it the points! thanks you all for the love and support 💙

see all comments

f1slay LOGAN MY MAN

y/nxlogan the couple that stays together, slays together

americanf1fan YEE HAW LET'S GO 🦅

y/nferrai I love you bitch, I ain't neva gonna stop lovin you bitch

logansargeant love you too ass hat 🎩

alex_albon I liked you two better when you were nicer

oscarpiastri let them love the way they know best

y/nferrari awww thanks loser 😗

oscarpiastri HEY

y/nsworld Logan and y/n are the power couple of the grid

y/nferrari has posted

liked by y/nsworld, daddysmoney, logansargeant, and 1,204,395 others

y/nferrari another day, another p2, another day of Logan calling me a fat ass (but I love him) ❤️

see all comments

y/n.nation the caption is everything

logan4president the matching team colored hearts was a nice touch

Ferrari you'll get Charles in Austria 💪

charles_leclerc no she won't 🥰

logansargeant but you're my fat ass 🤤

y/nferrari maybe you'd get more points if you stop staring

logansargeant maybe you'd win a race if YOU stopped staring at charles's or max's ass

maxverstappen1 I knew it 😌

y/nferrari SHUT UR MOUTH

trustthefund I'm still worried about Lance, he looked shooked

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Overprotective Dad

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: google translate spanish..

Girl Dad Carlos series continues, enjoy!

Carlos, Charles and Pierre participated in the World Stars Football match. It was a charity football match and it was happening tonight so you and your now three year old daughter Bea decided to go with Carlos and cheer for him.

It was no secret that Carlos loved football and is an avid fan of Real Madrid, so the fact that his wife and daughter will be watching him play tonight made him all too excited.

"Están mis niñas listas?" Carlos asks entering Bea's room where the two of you were getting her ready. (Are my girls ready?)

"All done! Go show daddy what you're wearing." You say as you tighten the red ribbon on her tiny curly ponytail and put her down from your lap. Bea excitedly runs towards Carlos and spins around in front of him showing him the small grey Ferrari sweatshirt that had Sainz written in big red letters on the back and number 55 on the front in the right top corner of the sweatshirt.

"Wow, mi amor, eres hermosa." Carlos says picking her up in his arms and kissing her chubby cheek that was blushing. Bea was a truly girly little girl and she loved compliments and attention especially from Carlos. And Carlos being the best girl dad in the world loved spoiling her. "What does it say on your back?" He asks her.

"Sainz" You whisper to remind her.

"Sainz" And she repeats after you.

"Are you gonna cheer for papa tonight?"

"Yes!!" She screams clapping her hands.

"Did you show him you hair?" You ask stepping closer to them and fixing the ribbon on her hair.

"Let me see." She quickly turns her head and reaches for her ponytail for him to see. "Ayy, maravillosa!" (Gorgeous!)

You put on your long trench coat and high heel boots and Carlos took his backpack and Bea into his arms. Soon you were out the door on your way to the stadium. Since it was big event with a lot of famous athletes, there was a ton of reporters impatiently waiting for them to arrive.

As soon as you saw it, mild anxiety washed over you. You got used to it by now, but you didn't like them taking pictures of Bea. So far you have successfully kept your three-year-old out of the media eye. It's not that you were hiding her, but you didn't like them sharing pictures of her all over the internet.

Besides, as much as Bea is an extrovert and loves attention, she's still just a little kid who gets terrified of a crowd of strangers shouting in her face. And that's exactly what happened this time.

As soon as you got out of the car they spotted you and the camera flashes went off like crazy. You took a deep breath opening the back door of the car to get Bea out of her seat. Carlos stood behind you with the backpack in his hand and held the door of the car open.

"Come here, baby" You say unbuckling her belt as she stretched her arms towards you. Bea already noticed from the car that something was happening outside. They were calling for you shouting your names out loud and she was very confused about who these people are and how do they know her name.

You positioned her on your hip and tightly wrapped your arms around her. At first her big brown eyes widened watching all those people standing in your way as you started walking towards the stadium. Carlos had his arm around you as you walked close to him, but you were struggling because it was hard to see clearly from the flashes and in addition to all that, you were wearing high heel boots and holding your child.

"Mama.." You could hear Bea's heart pounding against your chest and it didn't take long for her to burst into tears. It all became too much for her.

"Baby, it's okay shh.." You tried, but it didn't help and you completely understood why. "Oh my God, I'm gonna trip and fall"

"Give me her" Carlos slung his backpack over his shoulder and stopped walking for a second to take her from your arms into his.

"Are you okay? Hold on to me." He asked you and you quickly gave him a nod. She hid her face into his neck and you held on to his arm as you started walking again.

You could feel Carlos slowly starting to fume with anger because they scared and made his little girl cry, and she was so excited to come here and watch her daddy play. You tightened your grip on him trying to calm him down, but once one of them tried to shove their camera into her face, Carlos was about to lose it. He was not having any of that.

"Do that one more time and I'll smash the fucking camera against your head you fucking piece of shit" He stopped in tracks, his brown eyes darkened. If he hadn't been holding Bea, he would have punched him for sure.

"Carlos, no please" You said pulling him away.

When you finally managed to make your way through the crowd and reach the inside of the stadium you ran into Charles.

"The Sainz family!" Charles yelled smiling, but he quickly noticed something was wrong.

"Just give us a second please." Carlos said to him as you two stood to the side to calm Bea down. "Bebe, it's okay, you're safe, daddy wouldn't let anything happen to you" He said softly wiping her tears away and placing a kiss on her cheek. After a few minutes of comforting, the tears dried up and the sweet smile returned to her face.

"Papi no nos dejes" She said quietly playing with the collar of his t-shirt. (Daddy, don't leave us)

"No bebe, tu y mami vendrán conmigo. Vas a apoyar a papá, sí?" Carlos said tickling her tummy making her laugh and nod in agreement. (No baby, you and mommy will come with me. You're going to cheer for dad, okay?)

"We'll be daddy's loudest cheerleaders, okay?" You said gently pinching her cheek.

"Y más hermosas" (and the most beautiful)

[queenie-the-court-jester]

that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

[moltengoldveins]

ok but I have Thoughts about the way Minecraft usernames translate to actual names, both irl and in fanfic. They’re definitely ‘obsessed with structure and grumpy at inconsistency flavor autism’ thoughts but still. I find it weird how we cut and paste the media we’re given to fit what we view as functional worldbuilding, and how that gets screwy when translating online names.

like, you’re working with several categories here. The person’s actual real name, their irl nickname, their gamer tag, a name possibly contained by or possibly the entirety of that gamer tag, and any extra pieces or symbols in the gamer tag. And you have the weird situation where those categories might not easily translate to a ‘First Name Last Name’ structure. For an example, we’ve got Phil Watson, who’s gamer tag is ‘Ph1LzA,’ and is called Philza Minecraft or Philza. The ‘Minecraft last name’ is a…. Bit? A joke? A reference to a bit of lore? It’s unclear. The ‘Za’ bit was put there for flair and is now an integral part of his name. Sometimes it’s his last name. Sometimes his real last name is chucked in there. the 1 in his actual username is literally never referenced in nicknames or fic it’s like it’s not even there. But that’s a simple one. What about Tubbo_? because we call him Tubbo Underscore. Like. We say the ‘_’ aloud. Why do we do that. What has possessed us to make that decision? What about FitMC? I’ve usually heard it said ‘Fit Emsee.’ Why say that, and not say ‘Minecraft? That’s not even really a last name, it’s just like…. His full first name. Fit is used more like a shortened nickname. BadBoyHalo. Like. ‘Bad boy’ is a slang term, not a name. It would make the most sense to call him Halo, that’s the distinct noun in the name, the term the ‘bad boy’ bit is referring to. Like ‘GoodTimesWithScar’ but noooo. Bad. Halo is usually a last name, if it’s there at all. Skeppy on the other hand is… just his name. No last name ever. Technoblade is also weird. Technoblade is his full name. We call him that. We ALSO call him ‘Techno,’ and use Blade as a last name. We also use Blade as a title. What the heck. GeminiTay. We call her Gem. We use Tay as a last name sometimes. Her name is a Zodiac constellation. Literally nowhere I’m have I seen that affect her naming conventions. IJevin. We just… remove the I. For everything. This wouldn’t bother me except we don’t do it with everyone and I’m starting to get annoyed by the inconsistency. GoodTimesWithScar. Ok. This one also bugs me. Like, most fics call him Scar Goodtimes when they need a name. I’m not gonna dig into it but that’s…. Why? Why that? Grian never gets a last name. Ranboo sometimes gets chopped into Ran and Boo but usually he’s an Underscore or he’s last nameless. Wilbur Soot functions wonderfully (until the get involved shhhh) but it’s too close to his real name it gets very confusing.

anyway, all of this sucks, I hate it all, we’re a terrible fandom /hj

all that nonsense aside, yknow who has a functional Firstname Lastname username? It’s even got a space, and proper capitals: Mumbo Jumbo. That’s who. Look at that. It’s perfect. Everyone should be more like Mumbo Jumbo. Thank you and good night.

.

Edit: I know about Ranboo Beloved and Grian Dreamslayer and the various other characters whose names I didn’t mention perfectly in this post. This was no piece of journalism, this was an old man shouts at cloud meme personified. I was very overstimulated and this was what happened to catch my autistic ire. I’m not upset, just figured I’d clarify, a lot of people seem distressed at my not mentioning Beloved. Hope y’all are having a lovely day 💜

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[caffeineaddictwriter]

The wolverine with reader who has a bunny mutation

reader has a bunny mutation, so they can form a bunny tail and ears that are both white. Can jump incredibly high and kick hard. There hearing can reach miles when ears are out.

Warnings: smut, p in v, breeding kink, hint of violence, some fluff.

•oh boy.

•Logan will take the piss out of you for the first while when yous first meet. After all you’re a “wild animal”.

•”so your most defenitly a stripper in disguise”

•but after a while he comes to love your bunny features.

•”cottontail”

•”thumper”

•”carrot eater”

•always coming up with new nicknames for you even if some of them piss you off but it’s all in good nature.

•once got many weird looks when he asked you if you cut holes in your pants for your tail. While in public.

•he won’t admit it but he thinks your the most adorable thing he’s ever fucking seen.

•instead of smacking your ass when he walks past you he squeezes your tail making you squeal and hit him playfully. He loves it.

•will run a finger up the spine of your ears to make you shiver.

•once tried to train with you. He thought you’d be to soft to take him on. You kicked him through the wall. He didn’t try to go easy again.

•buys you a carrot cake for your birthday to be ironic. You slammed a slice into his face but ate the rest.

•booped you on the nose once and you refused to have sex with him for three months.

•if he’s been away on a hard mission he enjoys how your cute little ass takes care of him. He’ll set you on his lap and just stroke your hair and ears.

•a lot of people think the look is cute. Especially guys in the bar when you’re with Logan. Logan is a very jealous man and won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of anyone that’s getting to confident.

•”my fucking bunny, you got that bub”

•loves watching you kick people with your strength. Also gets turned on by it.

•the first time he witnessed you kicking some ass hole across the room he was incredibly confused on why he got a boner.

•will stroke your ears when yous are making out just for the hell of it.

•will use your amazing hearing to his advantage. Will make lude sounds when your in the shower to make you either horny so he can come have you in the shower or make you get out faster so he can have you on the bed.

•now with the term “fuck like rabbits” he takes that literally now. He’ll be bending your cotton ass over any surface.

•he’ll hold your tail as he pounds into you just squeezing it ever so tighter when your getting close.

•”oh fuck that’s my good bunny~”

•”you take me so well just like a wild animal aye bun”

•most definitely loves taking you from behind so he can see your tail bobbing as he pounds his dick into you.

•if you go into heat you bet your ass he’ll be right there fucking you till you can only drool his name out your mouth.

•breeding kink can’t tell me otherwise. This man loves the idea of you filled with baby bunny’s.

•once when you were sucking him off he called his dick a rabbit so you bit it softly making his claws fly out.

•will buy you so much white lingerie. It goes with your ears and tail and it’s just so hot to him.

•laughs when you get in the shower or bath and your tail gets wet so you blow dry it or shake it like a wet dog.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17

Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.

This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.

“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”

“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”

“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”

“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.

Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.

“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”

Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

-

They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.

They were waiting for him to talk.

Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.

Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.

“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”

“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.

“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.

“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.

He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”

“But he’s your dad.”

“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.

Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.

“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”

“Not the clone part,” Red added.

This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.

(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)

Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”

“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.

“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”

“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”

Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.

“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?

“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.

“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”

The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.

“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”

“Danny—”

“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”

Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Danny didn’t get it.

Danny didn’t believe it yet.

But god did Danny want it.

Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.

-

“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”

“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”

Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.

“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”

Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”

Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”

Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.

Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”

“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”

Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”

“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.

“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”

Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”

Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”

“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”

-

Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.

Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.

Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.

Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.

There was worry any tests might set Danny off.

Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.

They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.

When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”

“Blue,” Cass suggested.

“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”

“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.

“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.

“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”

Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”

Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.

“Dami?” Dick prompted.

“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”

“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.

Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”

“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”

There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.

---

AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI AND Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT (PART 5) … 899k views

꩜ : actor!toji x gn!reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 (they are actress!reader)

sfw for the most part, fluff, crack, peeping toms & perverts (toji deals w them <3), cute babies, use of y/n

⤷ the way tojiyn is just real at this point…

a/n: thank you so much for 3000 followers that is literally crazy! thank you all sm for enjoying and supporting my fanfics🩷🩷. as a gift u all get more actor toji. i just missed him <33

_____= your name

masterlists

from the actor![character] series:

actor!toji masterlist

actor!nanami & actress!yn being a couple

actor!levi & gn!reader being a couple

taglist: @okayiamkassandra | @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | @ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved

*

꩜ first clip

posted on toji’s (mostly inactive) instagram, a clip of you with a little baby no more than a year old standing on your lap. you make funny, expressive faces as she giggles and mumbles in an adorable, pure manner. the pinnacle of innocence.

“look at that! who’s that, baby?” you ask the baby, referring to the person behind the camera.

you turn her around, making her look up. she points, her face beaming with a toothless smile.

“ahh!” she squeaks.

you giggle.“it’s toji!”

a huff is heard from behind the camera and a big hand comes and strokes the baby’s chubby cheeks. “hi princess.”

the clip ends there, but the reaction from the internet only begins.

-

@ynb11111gestfan

a baby??? wtf did i miss???!:!:!

@justalurkeracx0unt

YOU GUYS ADOPTED?????????

@gojosbl!ndfold

which one of you gave birth

@tojizbigfatbreederballzinmymouf

girldad toji? my biggest dreams have come true💕💕

⤷ @herbigdoeeyesss

YOUR NAME?????

-

it’s safe to say, everyone was confused about who this random baby was. so, you were the one to clear things up by posting a video on your story;

“i’m sorry for the confusion guys. yes, me and toji had a baby. toji had a very long labour and he worked so hard and gave birth to a little baby girl <3”

well, that cleared things up.

꩜ second clip

toji walks out of a elevator and is…carrying you in his arms. bridal style. with your bodyguards following close behind (not that you need bodyguards when toji is with you).

the man holding the camera asks toji, “why are you carrying them?”

instead, you respond with a shrug, “my feet hurt.”

toji doesn’t even react. he just walks down the corridor, carrying you like he does it every day.

꩜ third clip

shortly after you began filming for a minor role in a popular television series, there are rumours floating around of toji allegedly physically assaulting one of the members of staff on set.

of course, everyone has all kinds of theories of what happened, but many people are not surprised because, well…it’s toji. they are not shocked by this type of behaviour coming from him.

but then, all is revealed by TMZ in a short youtube video, being a oh so nosy individuals they are:

“we got leaked information about what happened on that set. apparently, the staff member had been secretly recording y/n in their caravan, even when they were getting dressed! disgusting, i know. it’s said that toji spotted them and ‘took’ matters into his own hands. and by that, i mean throwing hands. toji is now being accused of assault by said staff member. in my eyes,” the reporter throws his hands up, shrugging, “that freak got what was coming!”

after that, people are on toji’s side, praising him for what he did. but enough people believed his actions to be extreme and overly violent.

so he releases an apology for his actions in a video, in which it is very clear that he had just woken up and he was still in bed:

“hey everyone. i know just about everyone’s heard of what happened. i would just like everyone to know that…i don’t care,” he chuckles, “i really don’t give a shit. i would do it again if it had to. that piece of shit deserved what he got. i’m only sorry for not breaking his other arm.”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji are on the red carpet in paris, being interviewed about an awards show and your time in the country.

“so, have you two seen any of the sights and attractions in paris?”

“uhhhmm, no not so much. we really wanted to but we’ve just been uhh, really, really-” you pause for a moment, a second too long as you look at toji, who is staring at you. even from this angle, toji is seen to be smirking and he winks at you.

you blink rapidly and turn back to the interviewer. “busy. yeah, we’ve been really busy.”

“that’s one way to put it.” toji chimes in.

a tojiyn truther favourite.

꩜ fifth clip

you and toji, wanting to raise money for charity, decided ti participate in the bake-off, a televised baking competition.

“okay!” you start, excited.

the excitement doesn’t last very long.

“what even is this [BLEEP]?”

“toji! don’t swear! they have to bleep that out!”

off you and toji go, baking in such a disorderly and chaotic fashion, even the other participants are looking at you sideways.

multiple bleeps are edited in due to toji’s creative language.

“phew!” you breathe out. “i think we’re making good time-”

“ten minutes left!” the host calls out.

“ten minutes!?” toji shouts.

“what? ten? we haven’t even started the buttercream yet! the cake hasn’t even cooled down! what!”

“move,” toji moves into your space, snatching the whisk and bowl of ingredients from you hands and begins stirring like an absolute mad man, “you cool off that [BLEEP] cake, i’ll make this! [BLEEP].”

you dash toward the window, plain cake in hand, and simply…stick the cake out of the window, hoping it will call down faster.

toji and you are stared at in complete and utter confusion.

after sloppily applying the buttercream to the cake, along with the toppings, you and toji are done just in time.

it is your time to present.

you and toji walk to the front, placing the cake in front of the hosts.

“hm,” the woman said, “presentation is messy.”

you and toji glance at each other.

they take a bite.

“oh,” the male judge hums, “not bad.”

“i think it’s quite tasty!” a judge with a british accent compliments. “well done to the both of you.

you and toji cheer silently and high five.

you both came in third place in that round.

go figure.

꩜ sixth clip

you and the cast members of “jujutsu kaisen” are at comic con for a fan Q&A. the place is packed full of fans!

“i…i have a ques-question for _____. I-” his voice cracks wildly and he clears his throat, causing a few giggles in the crowd.

he continues. “i-what-why-what-what do-how-” he sighs and covers his face with embarrassment.

a wave of laughter goes through the crowd, mocking the poor boy even further.

“it’s okay,” you coo to the fan, “i don’t bite.”

the audience laughs some more.

and the toji interrupts with his own comment of, “they sure do.”

you gasp. your head whips towards toji and the crowd erupts with laughter, whistles and hoots of teasing and encouragement.

the fan, now beet red, covers his face again. “oh my god.”

“great! toji look what you did!” you shout. “you broke him!”

*

a/n: new actor toji take it or leave it