#and two to make it so i have those days off so i don’t have to worry about figuring it all out!

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[chelseeebe]

bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

-

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie’s munson one shot

[slytherinslut0]

theodore nott. | you’re mine tonight

summary: theodore nott is always willing to be used by you. if you’re going to use somebody, just let it be him.

word count: 800

tags: headcanons that once again turned into this. i try to keep things short, apparently im physically incapable🥹 nothing crazy here other then implied fwb, slight angst, reader heartbreak kinda cuz cormac sux, theo being good with words as always, make out session at the end

Theodore Nott, who watches as you and your situationship, Cormac, argue every single day.

Theodore Nott who sees you cry constantly as a result of these arguments, tonight no unorthodox exception as you come storming back into the Slytherin common room with tears streaming down your cheeks, kicking off your heels and throwing yourself down next to him on a secluded corner couch.

Your eyes, brimming with anguish and pleading for solace, lock onto his, a look he knows all too damn well.

Theodore Nott, who doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to pry, who already knows exactly why you’re here, sitting next to him, when you could be literally anywhere else. He reads the story in your tear-streaked cheeks and your trembling hands. It’s a scene he’s witnessed so many times he’s lost count.

Theodore Nott, who merely closes his book, runs a hand through his tousled hair, and rests the other on your knee. PDA is off the table since you don’t want Cormac to find out—even though he’s been sneaking off with more girls than you have fingers on both hands—so Theo simply looks at you with those steady, knowing eyes and whispers, “your dorm or mine?”

You swallow, grateful gaze shifting toward the door. It’s always so fucking easy with Theo.

“Always yours,” you murmur, rising to your feet and picking up your discarded heels. Without waiting for his response, you start toward his dorm, certain he’s right behind you. He always is.

Theodore Nott, who shuts the door and locks it behind you as the two of you enter. The lights are dim, the shadows of the Black Lake ripple against the walls, and moonlight flickers throughout the room. Theodore Nott, who notices the look on your face well before you do, who can already sense the words that are about to slip past your teeth.

Theo knows well enough by now that you only come to him when you’re hurt, and you never feel good about it until he reassures you it’s okay. He sees it in the subtle shift of your gaze, the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your lips—a silent plea for forgiveness he’s already long granted you.

“I’m sorry, Theo…”

Theodore Nott, who understands you just need someone to hold you right now. Someone who will look at you with warmth, with desire, with need, someone who will give you all of himself in this moment. A shoulder to cry on, bedsheets to lie on.

“It’s okay, bella, don’t apologize…”

Theodore Nott who steps closer, his hands stern yet gentle as they cup your cheeks, drawing your gaze to his. Reverent blue eyes glisten like two oceans, drowning you in their warmth. Theodore Nott who brushes the damp from your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down, grazing his lips over yours, feather-light.

“I’ve said it about a million times, you know I’ve already told you—“

Theodore Nott, who interrupts his own sentence by pressing his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath as your salty sweetness ignites in his mouth. Tears mingle with your cherry lip gloss, his hands sliding back into your hair, and he’s lost and then found again—as though you’re the only beacon in a world shrouded in darkness, the answer to all his unspoken questions.

Theodore Nott, who needs this, who wants this just as much, if not more, than you do.

“—if you’re gonna’ use somebody…use me…”

Theodore Nott who practically growls those words into your mouth as fervour takes over, as hunger roars harder and stronger with each passing second. One hand grips your hair, holding your lips to his while the other falls to your blouse, slender fingers undoing the buttons with a speed that leaves you breathless.

“…I’m so fucking willing to be somebody you need…”

His fingers deftly slip the last button free, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of your skin. The touch sends shivers through you, your body responding to his every move. His lips trail down your jaw, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you gasp. Theodore's grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to his eager mouth.

The room seems to shrink around you, the flickering moonlight casting shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the wild rhythm of your hearts. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense.

"You drive me insane…how much I fucking want you drives me insane," he admits, his breath hitching. "Every time I see you with him…every time I see what he does to you…it kills me…”

Theodore Nott whose words are like gasoline to an open flame, igniting a fierce need within you, scorching while simultaneously taming the desire to be desired. Theodore Nott who groans as you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close any distance between you as he shifts you around and begins backing you up toward his bed.

"Show me, Theo," you whisper. "Show me how much you want me."

With a growl, Theodore crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss searing and urgent. He moves with you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the contact. As you fall back onto the soft sheets, his body follows, covering you completely. His hands roam over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

"You're mine tonight," it’s a promise. Not a question. "No one else's. Just mine."

pretty divider made by: @saradika-graphics

#theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theonott #theodorenott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nottsmut #theodore nott smut #theodorenott #theodore smut #theodore #theodore nott #theo nott #theo smut #theo #nott #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzozurzolo #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherinboys #harry potter

[slushycoookie]

Miguel thinks of you... 

His stomach churns at the thought of you. You, a random citizen, he saves one day from a villian attack. Who says thank you when he drops you off on a nearby rooftop. All he tells you is to be careful before swooping down to continue his duty. He doesn't see you again after that.

At least until he saves you again almost a week later. From a building that was going to collapse. He recognizes you immediately when you say thank you again. Miguel was wondering if you were just unlucky, this being your second time in a dangerous situation. But you admit that you wanted to be there, so you could see him again.

Now he thinks you're crazy.

He unexpectedly snaps at you for putting yourself in harm's way. You try to convince him it was a good reason by showing him a large container filled with cookies. Saying that your words weren't enough to express your gratitude. He stares at the container, not sure what to think about the kind gesture. He likes cookies.

You say he can keep the container, implying that you have a bunch of them back home. Miguel didn’t know what to say after taking the container and thanking you. So he left. Once he got home, he enjoyed the misshapen treats, accidentally eating them all in one night. They were delicious.

He knew you said to keep the tupperware but it didn’t feel right keeping what was yours. Sadly, he had no way of communicating to you. Lyla suggested hacking into the cameras to look for you. Miguel didn’t want to do that. It was too creepy.

Instead, he looked for you. Hoping you didn’t stick yourself in another dangerous situation to get him to talk to you. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned. Much to his luck, he managed to find you. Carrying bags of groceries in your arms.

His approach wasn’t the best when he suddenly plops down on the sidewalk to greet you.

“Hi.”

You jump at the appearance of the superhero but quickly compose yourself, “Oh, hi.”

“Need help with those?” He gestures towards your groceries.

“I’m fine.” You say, “You probably have important things to do.”

“I do.” Miguel starts, causing you to raise an eyebrow, “Like helping a citizen with their groceries.” He waits for you to answer, ignoring all of the passersby who gawk at his presence.

“Okay.”

Miguel picks you up with one hand, making sure you are secure. He swings you to your apartment and he tries not to laugh as you hold on tight, your face buried in his chest. He drops you off on the rooftop of your building. He gives you a minute to compose yourself from the new form of transportation as you still stick to his side for stability.

“I’ve saved you twice. I thought you’d be used to this by now.”

A breathy laugh escapes you, “The big difference between those times and now was the adrenaline.” Once you were good, he hands you the container that was inside a pack he was carrying. Your eyes lit up at the empty space, “Did you like them?”

“I did. Thank you.” His stomach twists at your smile. He’s now paying attention to the rise in his heartbeat and the sweat forming on his palms.

“I said you can keep the container though. You didn’t have to give it back to me.”

Miguel takes a step closer to you on his own, “I wanted to. Didn’t feel right to keep what was yours.”

“Or…” You take the container, a grin forming across your lips. “You want some more.”

It was his turn to laugh, “What kind of hero am I if I ask someone for more cookies?”

“A good one.” The look you give him makes him want to melt. Or run away. Why was he like this? “I don’t have a problem making more.” You place the container in one of your bags, “Do you have a preference?”

He rubs the back of his neck, “Those lemon sugar cookies were good…” He wanted to record the delightful sounds of your laugh so he could listen to it later.

“Okay, big guy. Same place tomorrow?”

“What, like a burning building?”

“No…” You point at the rooftop you two were standing on, “Here. I promise to not be in danger this time.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

You gave him a wave of goodbye and he did the same before jumping off of the rooftop to see who else needed saving. He was looking forward to tomorrow so he could see you again.

A/N: I'm always writing everything but the thing I need to write LOL

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel fanfic #slushycoookie writes

[lucysarah-c]

Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you… you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

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[henneseyhoe]

Daddy’s Money.

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.

WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.

ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.

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The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.

Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just…happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.

You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous…so you tested something out.

“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”

You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.

Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.

You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.

Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.

The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.

“I could have anything I want? seriously??”

You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.

^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).

He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.

“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”

You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.

Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.

By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)

You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.

But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.

Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.

“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”

He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.

✮✮✮✮

Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)

Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.

Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???

Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.

“They’re so mean to me”

You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.

To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.

You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.

Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.

In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.

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#henneseyhoe #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #black reader #black!fem!reader #masterlist #black!oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton

[wellmetmat]

There's a post from a couple of years ago which I was reminded of and wanted to add to today, about nobody wanting to take the supplicant role in courtship, but it's unrebloggable due to some constraint the OP put on it, so I'll just quote my bit:

Being attracted to someone is distressing. I think the largest part of it is hunger to know someone (?); but when you can’t get to know them well, it ends up a stunted obsession: all that drive-to-know - enough to build a deep, detailed model of another personality - chewing over scraps of phrases and trivial actions, until you’re snappishly bored with your own mind. Your skin feels hungry and there’s nothing you can do about it: “touch starvation” is a phrase that comes to mind. The person’s absence and their presence both hurt: absence obviously, presence because once you’re there you find that there’s still distance, you still miss them. It’s rather like homesickness. Courting someone is wretched. It’s frightening and humiliating and full of agonising waiting periods and jarring mood switchbacks. It feels something like being dragged along on a fishhook, with the line attached to another person’s little finger. Liking someone more than they like you is a position of low power. The incentives are to be servile. You have nothing to bargain with: whatever they decide, you agree to with a smile. You always try to sound happy, because that’s what’s most appealing. You give up on areas of confusion instead of trying to understand, because asking questions annoys people and any annoying act pushes you closer to the cliff-edge of losing them. Any small disagreement feels like a large risk, so you distort your own opinions a bit. You can’t be spontaneous; your inner voice is always tallying accounts: how many days since the last message, too few, you mustn’t bother them yet / how many days since you came up with something interesting, too many, they may forget; don’t intrude so much, but simultaneously what have you done for them lately, how can you provide value to justify remaining in their life. It seems bad that we’re like this. I don’t imagine humans are especially badly formed or anything, it’s probably just as subjectively rotten for every animal that does courtship displays. But if anyone eventually makes robots with emotion-like motivational systems, they shouldn’t include anything like attraction. It’s so silly.

I feel like resurrecting this today to celebrate being out of it. In the last two weeks, somebody has given me the double gifts of liking me and of having the generosity to say so, and show so. All I want to do is be glad and be grateful, and try never to cause this person to experience anything described above.

But I stand by the description, it is a correct description, and we are so badly made it is infuriating. @nohoperadio's good post on the tragic stupidity of pain incidentally also works as a discourse on eros: if there'd been any intelligence involved in the design process, distress signals would come with an off-switch! (Hence my blog tagline.) But instead, evolution is a pitiless idiot, love is humiliation, nonviable attachments take years to starve to death, and there is no moral of the story. Absurd. A baboon could design a better emotional constitution.

Delightfully, this week ACX introduced David Pearce ("For centuries, philosophers have praised suffering as a necessary part of the human condition. For decades, David Pearce has told those other philosophers that they are bad and wrong"), who is doing his best to make a better emotional constitution available, and I approve of such a project so highly that it's been necessary to stack new levels of approval above my previous maximum to encompass how right he is. It's really exciting that any intelligent and active person considers progress of this sort possible and is working on it.

#blind idiot gods #hedonic uplift #David Pearce #transhumanism #important life goal: never need to go courting again - it's rather early to call this achieved but suddenly I can hope

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #series #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #to a tea

[jazziejax]

Queen Treatment for

The King

Pairings- Tashi Duncan x black!OC, Art Donaldson x black!OC, Patrick x black!OC

Summary- cute, sexy, and heated moments between Dion King and her best friends who adore her

Warnings- anxiety attack??, jealousy, crying?, confessing if feeling, girls kissing ;)

Jazzie’s Notes!- sorry for any typos or mistakes, it is yet again, 1AM…I guess this is when I thrive??? It’s also not proofread because I don’t enjoy reading my own work :)

Word Count- 2,927

Part I, Part II

The only that Dion could hear was the sound of her small grunts that sounded through the empty tennis court as she hit the ball back and forth. She was currently practicing with one of her teammates. She had asked the girl to match her in the cafeteria earlier, catching her with some of her friends. The table had gotten quiet when she walked over but she didn’t care. Daphne agreed and Dion walked away, but she could hear the hushed cheer between them. She was a good player but nowhere as good as Dion. Although said skills weren’t anywhere on display at the moment. She was struggling to play against some regular who could barely keep up with her.

She was in her head after what Patrick had told her. She knew she told the boy to let the whole situation go and she’d talk to the girl but it’s been two days and both of them have been MIA with the other. She and Tashi never had something like this happen between them and it was throwing Dion off her game.

Instead of focusing on her opponent, watching their moves to see their weaknesses and strengths, whether they were better at a backhand or forehand, she was listening to the sound of her heartbeat. She could hear the sound of her feet hitting the ground in an irregular pattern. She could hear the sound of other people practicing tennis beyond the fence. All those things distracted her from thinking, trying to make her mind blank.

Trying to erase the thoughts about what Tashi was doing right now. Trying to not think about what Patrick said about Tashi. Trying to think of something other than the fact she still had feelings for her best friend. Trying to stop the feeling she got in her heart and her stomach whenever she thought about her. Felt that she was near. Trying to rid the thoughts of the girl who’s been plaguing her mind since they were thirteen.

She swung with all her force when the ball came her way, causing the bright beam to soar across the net. Daphne ducked as the ball passed her, barely skimming her shoulder. Dion slammed her racket down in frustration, letting out a loud groan. She was out of breath as she racked her fingers along the surface of her tight bun. Her back faced the girl on the other side of the net as she tried to collect her thoughts and calm her heart. Her fingers clasped at the nape of her neck, Daphne could see her shoulders rise and fall quickly, sweat glistening in the sun off her back.

Quicker than usual.

Concerned, the girl hopped over the net and jogged over to Dion.

“Hey, D, you okay?” She asked, stopping a few feet away from the girl. But Dion didn’t answer her, she couldn’t hear her. Her mind and heart were racing as she took in deep breaths. Her head started to spin, so she bent her knees and rested her hands on them to keep her up. She could feel her throat closing up in her. Worried, Daphne eased closer to the girl. She placed her hand on the girl’s back, not minding the sweat she could feel beneath her fingers.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re alright.” She tried to soothe. Seeing that it wasn’t helping the girl, she looked around to see if there was anything to help her. Catching the sight of her water bottle sitting near her bag, the girl ran over and grabbed the large bottle before running back. She squatted down to the girl's height, handing the bottle to her. “Here, drink this.” She said, grabbing Dion’s wrist and placing the bottle in her hand.

Dion immediately twisted the cap off the bottle. She stood up and threw her back bag, starting to chug the cold water in the metal can. Daphne just stood there, watching as the girl put her mouth on her water bottle. She could see some water spill past the mouth and make its way down the girl's sweat-covered skin. Dion then brought the bottle down once she was down, causing Daphne to gulp and snap back into reality.

“You good?” The pale girl asked her long brown hair in a high ponytail. Dion looked over at her, hard brown eyes making contact with her green ones. She was a little taller than Daphne, who found it and her general aura to be a bit intimidating. Especially now.

“Yeah.” Was all Dion said, still trying to catch her breath, although it was better than earlier? She looked down at the bottle in her hands, the unfamiliar feeling of the metal cup in her hand. “Uh, sorry about your water.” She said, looking back up at her teammate and pointing at the bottle. “I drink it all.” She then held it out for the girl to take.

Daphne, who was a little more nervous than before, awkwardly chuckled as she took the bottle back. “It’s no problem at all.” She said. There was an awkward pause between them, both girls looking anywhere beside each other with their minds clouded.

“What was that, just now?” Daphne suddenly asked, causing Dion to look back over at her. The darker girl furrowed her brows, which made Daphne start to panic. “I mean, like, are you okay? Because that looked like it could have gotten worse. Intense, I mean.” She rambled, not wanting to sound rude and step on any toes, especially those of the Dion King, aka King Dion.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dion said, offering the girl the smallest smile which made Daphne feel things she wasn’t ready to admit. “It’s just…life.” She continued with a shrug. “It’s getting a little rough.” She joked, using her fingers to accentuate the word little with a small smirk on her face. It was almost like someone flipped a switch somewhere with how fast she chugged. She went from this girl who looked utterly helpless a few moments ago, back to regular charming Dion King.

“I know what you mean, schools kicking my ass right now in more ways than just class work,” Daphne said, a slight smile on her lips. “But, I’m always here if you need to talk, ya know? I’ve been told I’m a very good listener by…friends?” She said, more of a question to herself than to Dion. Dion furrowed her brows again in confusion, something she finds herself doing a lot of lately.

“I don’t have many friends,” Daphne answered her unspoken question. “Or any, honestly.” She shrugged.

“What about those girls you were eating lunch with earlier?”

“Sports groupies. Regular Stanford students that liked the idea of me being here on the tennis team and I was, kinda the only one that gave them the time of day.” Daphne stated with a simple shrug. Dion nodded at her with her arms crossed. “So that’s why I heard their giggles when I walked away?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer. Daphne silently winced at her words, almost tucking her head into her shoulders.

“You heard that?” She asked. Dion just chuckled and softly nodded her head. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal.” She shrugged. The girls shared soft giggles, unbeknownst to the lurking figure near the gates.

“Um, but yeah. I might take you up on that offer.” Dion said before walking over to her bags. Daphne was stunned into silence a little. “Oh. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” She said, nodding her head as her eyes followed the girl’s form when she caught another figure in the corner of her eye. She looked over to see a familiar face.

“Oh, hey, Tashi.” She said casually.

Daphne almost froze at the girl’s words but she just tensed up as she continued to gather her things. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she turned to see Daphne look over at the tall and slender figure of her best friend. Tashi didn’t say anything, arms folded over her chest as her eyes darted between the two. Before the atmosphere could get awkward, Dion started walking to the exit gate.

“See ya, Daph.” She called out over her shoulder. Daphne smiled, waving at the girl before she realized that Dion couldn’t see her. “Oh. See ya.” She called out. Dion passed Tashi without a word, feeling the girl's eyes follow her but not her body. Tashi stood at the gate for a moment, as she watched Dion walk away before looking back over at Daphne. Said girl just awkwardly smiled and waved at her, intimidated and uncomfortable under the tennis player's harsh gaze. Tashi gave her a once over before offering a sliver of a smile and a two-finger wave and jogging off to catch up with Dion. Daphne stood there, watching as she ran away.

“What the fuck just happened?” She whispered to herself.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Tashi hissed as she caught Dion. The girl in black didn’t turn around to answer her, keeping her eyes forward as she walked quickly to her dorm. “Don’t speak to me that way, you know I won’t answer you.” Was all she said, never once stopping. Tashi sighed as she trident father herself, too caught up in her emotions to think straight. She knew Dion was right, the girl never responded to such language, no matter how much she used it herself. After a few seconds of silence, the only sound being the sound of their fit hitting the ground, Tashi spoke again.

“What has been up with you these past few days?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I already know that you know.”

“Okay, but I want to hear you say it.”

There was nothing said after that, causing Dion to let out a bitter chuckle. “That’s what I thought.” She said as she adjusted her bag on her shoulders and sped up her walking. Tashi said, following the girl hit on her trials. “Dion, it’s not like that.” The light-skinned girl pleaded.

“I don’t know what you mean, I can’t read your mind, Tash.” She said, still focused on her destination, never meeting the eyes that had been flushed on the side of her face their whole walk.

“What? So you want me to admit that I was jealous of how close you and Patrick were becoming? How I felt that you were replacing me with my boyfriend. The sexual tension between you two? Is that what you want?” She hissed.

“Don’t even try to spin it like that. Like it’s on me. As if you and I don’t have sex when he’s not here.” Dion spat back quietly. “You were the one that agreed we could sleep together, but I never did for the sake of you. You were the one who still wanted me to be available so we could have what we had going on. I don’t know what you have going on in that head of yours besides tennis but you need to be honest with yourself before trying to put the blame on me.” She said harshly, before slamming open the glass door that led to the girls’ dormitory area. Tashi couldn’t say anything, knowing Dion was telling the truth. She felt her heart clench at the girl's words, Dion’s stress evident in her tone. It hurt her to even think about what she could have been going through these past few days.

She continued to follow the girl. To be fair, her dorm was directly next to hers. Nothing was said between them after that, but the air was tense wherever they stepped, so tense that it could suffocate those who were just in their rooms studying. Dion walked a step ahead of Tashi all the way to her dorm, and when she was about to opened the door, Tashi’s voice stopped her.

“I admit it.” She started. Dion paused, her back still facing her. “I admit that I was jealous because I thought I was losing you.” When she saw that Dion had no intention of turning around, she placed her hand on her shoulder and moved her. Now face to face, Dion spoke.

“Is that all?” She asked, her harsh tone from earlier now gone, replaced with a softer one. One that showed sadness. And her eyes wound meet the girl across from her, pulling on Tashi’s heartstrings.

“No.” Tashi said timidly.

Dion glanced up to meet her eyes, signaling the girl to continue.

“I can’t lose you, Dion.” She started, dropping her constant tough girl act. She always became vulnerable around Dion. And now here she was being vulnerable in the middle of the hall. “It was already tough watching you basically live the married life with Art around campus. He practically lives in your dorm room. I was jealous then because I didn’t have my boyfriend around and it felt like Art knew more about you than I did at some point. I didn’t say anything because…I felt like I had no right to. Not after what we agreed on. And then Patrick came and I saw how close you guys were, always laughing and jumping around. And whoever that chick was you were practicing with.” She ranted, her breaths becoming short as her heart rate picked up. Dion took a step forward, looking Tashi in her eyes that looked like they were about to water. “I could almost feel you slipping away from me. And I can’t have that because you’re all I know. You’re all I have, Dee.” She confessed.

Dion shook her head at the girls words, eyes mirroring Tashi’s. “That nit true because I’ll never slip away from you.” She started, taking another step and clasping Tashi’s hands within hers. “Tash, you’ll always be my number one. No one could ever replace you.” She said. She looked down at their intertwined hands, the contracts between their skin tones almost symbolic of their opposite personalities. Yin & Yang.

“But you have to realize that I need other people in my life too.” She gulped, looking back up into her eyes. “You decided that you wanted to be with Patrick. You decided that you wanted to still sleep with me even though you don’t want anything exclusive. You make all the decisions, Tashi. I want to make some of my own.” She said softly, bringing her hands up to the girl's waist and pulling her close. Tashi unconsciously did the same, placing her hands on Dion 's back. They were practically breathing each other's air at this point. Telling every breath the other let out against their skin. “And just because I love them doesn’t mean I love you any less. You will always be important to me.” She said before cupping the girls cheek and connecting their lips. Tashi lunged into the kiss, missing the feeling of Dion entirely.

In the middle of the hall, the two girls kiss in each other's embrace, currently not caring if anyone saw them. To catch their breath,they pulled away from one another and connected their foreheads. Tashi closed her eyes as she raised her head to rub her nose against Dion’s face, basking in her scent and the feel of her skin on hers.

“You love them?” She asked, her words so soft that even their proximity didn’t do anything for it. But Dion heard her, and she nodded her head.

“I do.” She said, taking a moment to continue. As if saying it out loud made her finally accept what she was feeling. “But you will always be my first love.” She said.

“And you will always be mine. And I will always love you.” Tashi said.

Dion had the urge to kiss her again at her words, but she could feel her tiredness getting to her. So she grabbed hold of Tashi’s hand and opened the door to her room. She didn’t even turn around to look at the girl as she spoke. “I have something for you.”

Closing the door behind her, she dropped her tennis bag and made her way to the same nightstand she grabbed Patrick’s gift from. She pulled out two long dark red boxes. She handed one to Tashi, who filled her across the room, and kept the other one.

Opening it, Tashi could see that it was a silver tennis bracelet with large diamonds in it. They were all different cuts, giving the bracelet a more unique feeling than just the average tennis bracelet. “I have a matching one. And I know you’re more of a good girl but this was all they had. Maybe in the future I could get some custom ones made for us.” She said. Tashi just smiled down at the gift. “I love it.” She said, before looking up at the girl. “I love that we have matching ones.” She said, taking it out of the box and letting Dion clasp it in her wrist before doing the same for her.

She looked down at the beautiful bracelet with a soft look in her eyes before looking back up at Dion. “I love you.” She said, her tone egging for reassurance. Almost scared that Dion didn’t feel the same, no matter their previous conversation. Dion smiled at her. “I love you too.” She said before grabbing a hold of her hand that held the bracelet in her wrist. “Stay the night.” She demanded more than asked.

After taking a shower, the girls laid within her bed while light kisses were shared between the two. And then they drifted off to sleep, within each other's arms.

Thabk you guys for reading!!!! Let me know if you want more of this little series. I’m currently writing another full length Chakkengers fic that will go off the movies plot a little, with my own things to add and tweak. That will be out soon!

@lottiematthewsceo @djoenthusiast @summerssover @tsukishimawhore @miximora @jackierose902109 @rueblackst @douceurrrr

#challengers #challengersmovie #patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi duncan #tashi x reader #tashi donaldson #zenday coleman #zendaya #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi! I love your Nathan stuff and i always come back to read them whenever i’m in my nathan phase.

i was wondering if you’d be down to do #q and #3 for the kiss prompts with nathan. i was reading over them and i thought of a dumb scenario where he’s been trying to get a kiss all day but it’s just dumb little pecks every time. i just know he’d get so sassy about it.

if you don’t feel like it or don’t think it works with nathan then don’t worry about it! thank you!!

I'm guessing that q was meant to be 1. If it wasn't and I wrote it wrong....soz

Prompts: Small kisses littered across the other’s face; A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

It's no secret to the world that you and Nathan are a couple, but on the average day-to-day, you don't go out of your way to advertise that fact.

When you're busy, you're more focused on pushing the company forward, not pushing your relationship forward. Nathan does it, too, and on hectic days, you don't take offense. The two of you are busy, and for as much as you love one another, you don't always make your romantic relationship a priority.

Come to think of it, the two of you hardly ever make it a priority.

Friday morning is no different.

You're on a call. You're listening closely to the feedback from your Chief Marketing Officer—the feedback from your annual summit is less favorable than you'd like. Your user base is concerned about the increased reliance on AI, but you're not relying on it—you're developing it, leaning into it, into the ways that your users have been accessing it—otherwise why the fuck else would you have developed it?

You nearly miss the sound of the knock on your door, but you glance up, doing a double-take when you spot him lingering in your doorway. He raises his finger to his lips, and you know that he wants you to avoid mentioning that he's listening in or has joined you in the room. He does this sometimes—like an Undercover Boss situation without the cameras and shitty wigs and fake buck teeth. You nod and wave him further into your office, adding, "Go on, I'm listening," When the product manager on the other side of the call goes quiet.

Nathan creeps further into the office as your product officer goes on, planting his palms on your desk and leaning in. You hardly turn your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek before waving him away.

--

You catch sight of him again in the elevator, but you're distracted again, eyes and mind focused on your phone, on the email that you're answering. You lean over, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping off of the elevator at your floor.

--

It happens in a crowded hall. You hardly catch sight of him, but you know that it's him, somehow—in the way that the others go quiet and stuff, and the hush of their otherwise free conversation. You reach out as he reaches for you, catching hold of his hand and giving it a squeeze before you push onto your meeting.

--

It's been a normal day. So why is Nathan beating the shit out of his punching bag? You lean in the doorway of his home gym, watching him rain blows down on the bag in front of him. You eye the sweat gleaming on his biceps and forehead, the steady pounding of his gloved fists against the vinyl.

"...Let up, he's already dead," You finally tease.

Nathan's punches slow before he ultimately reaches out, slowing the bag. You're surprised by the heated look that he points toward you as he turns in your direction, taking slow, measured steps toward you.

"Did you eat already?" You ask—but he doesn't answer. You watch him plant on his hands on his hips, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.

"Kiss me."

"...What?" You frown.

"Give me a kiss—a fucking real one this time."

"I gave you real ones—"

"A real goddamn kiss, not those stupid little pecks I got all day."

You roll your eyes, straightening up and beginning to turn away. "Alright. I'm going to go make my dinner. Come and find me when you've moved on from being so fucking dramatic—"

You aren't able to turn fully away from him before he grasps your hips, pushing you back against the door jamb. Your breath catches in your throat, and you hardly get the chance to get a good look at him before Nathan's lips are descending greedily against yours. Your eyelids flutter, but you let them close and settle as he presses his body flush against yours. You sigh quietly, allowing your arms to loop around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the beads of sweat that have gathered at his nape.

Nathan draws away just enough for you to draw your breath, his tongue teasing against the seam of your lips.

"I ask you for a kiss again," He murmurs, "That's what I fuckin' want. Understood?"

You smile, hardly holding back a giggle.

"You're the boss."

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#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #kiss prompts #this fic is not at all inspired by my complete loathing of the google i/o summit this week. #....... #(i lie it is indeed inspired by that)

[gildedphoenix]

Fire Escape - Dead on MAYn Day 1

Prompts uses: -Courting rituals -Flickering -Dinner interrupted by a fight -“Are they gone yet”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not beta read. 6k words. Jason has a stressful day and shares dinner with his downstairs neighbor, Danny. The following week, Danny leaves something for him. A courting ritual between busy, stressed disasters.

AO3: Fire Escape Dead on MAYn Blog @deadonmayn

Fire Escape 

Life as a vigilante was stressful. Their world was not always easy. Cases did not always wrap up nicely in thirty minutes with everyone skipping off, hand in hand. 

This was definitely one of those bad days. 

A child trafficking case, after dragging on for the last 3 months, ended horribly. The head of the ring got away before Hood and Nightwing could to box him in. Most of the kids were already gone, whisked away to another location while Jason and Dick were fighting to reach them. And the kids they were able to find? Jason took a deep breath. This wasn’t a night he would be able to forget anytime soon. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight so after Dick left, Jason cooked. He made chicken and bacon stuffed shells with a creamy marinara sauce. The recipe always took forever but it was a welcome distraction. Jumbo shells, chicken, bacon, broccoli, cheese, and sauce and a dozen other components to prep and cook. No time to think of anything else.

Two hours later, Jason was still wired, but he had stuffed shells. Enough for his whole family, if he was honest with himself. Enough to feed those kids who didn’t make it. Enough to fill the stomachs that hadn’t been full in so long but would never be hungry again. 

Jason was broken out of his despair by a noise on the fire escape. His gun was in his hand without conscious thought. Slow, steady steps took him closer to the window until he could see the potential intruder. 

Jason's shoulders dropped back down as he spotted his downstairs neighbor outside their window. It wasn’t unusual to see Danny out on the fire escape, one level down. Nothing unusual. Nothing to be concerned about. 

Jason reupholstered his gun before Danny spotted him and turned back to the kitchen. They’d introduced themselves when Danny moved in a few weeks ago at the beginning of the fall semester but hadn’t interacted much since then. 

Grabbing the casserole dish and an extra plate and fork, Jason stepped out onto his level of the scaffolding and called down to Danny. 

“Hey, you want some food? I made too much and can’t possibly eat it all.” Jason set the dish down between himself and the stairs and started in on his own plate. 

“Oh my god, Yes! I haven’t had food all day! You are a life saver. A knight in shiny armor.” Danny made his way up the stairs and peeked his head just above Jason’s level. He reached slowly for the extra plate and serving spoon while watching Jason. Jason motioned a little ‘go ahead’ with his own fork and Danny’s face lit up as he scooped a modest portion of shells onto his plate. “I was stuck in meetings all day. The council just wanted to drag everything out and every issue solved spawned two more. And it’s not even like they listen to me,” he stopped, eyes wide and he put the serving spoon back in the dish and looked intently at his own plate. “Not that they would. You know. I’m just a,you know, just an intern. I’m not even paid. Just an unpaid internship. Yep. I’m just there to take notes and get college credit. I’m an engineering student at Gotham U.” He glanced over at Jason, eyes a little panicked as he tried to sell his obvious lie. “But I don’t wanna bore you. You probably have a real job with real stress. I’m just an intern student. Aaaaaaand I’m gunna stop rambling now and go eat. Yep. Thank you.” 

Danny clammered back down the stairs (and Jason could swear he missed that last step based on the noises) before settling down against the wall next to his window. With a chuckle, Jason took another bite of his food. “You’re right, my job is stressful. That doesn’t mean you’re day can’t be stressful too, though. Stress is relative. We all handle it differently. It’s how I ended up making too much food. I’ve got a big family and I just went on autopilot and before I knew it I’d made enough to feed them all, even though none of them are over tonight. It’s still a nice way to decompress. I’ll give them a call tomorrow to see if any of them want some but this dish is better fresh.” He leaned back against his own wall, eyes closed, taking in the steady constant noises of the city. The chatter of Crime Alley and the more distant rumble of Gotham. It was several minutes before Jason heard Danny call up again. 

“This is amazing. I don't think I’ve eaten anything this good since….Actually never. I definitely can’t make anything like this and my parents didn’t really do home cooked meals.” 

Jason glanced down through the grates and Danny was scraping the sauce off the plate onto his fork. Jason decided to show some mercy before the poor guy started licking the plate. “Feel free to grab more. I’m not gonna eat this all and my siblings should have clairvoyantly known I was cooking if they really wanted any.” Jason chuckled a bit but it also didn’t seem that unrealistic. 

“Thanks! I’m going to be full for a week after this.” Danny popped back up the stairs, his face lit up in joy, as he pulled the dish over to him, spooning out a full plate of shells this time. “I guess their loss is my gain.” He went back down to lounge against his own wall. 

An easy silence fell. The noises of the city a distant juxtaposition to the bubble they had created. Just two people enjoying food. Enjoying a little down time. Enjoying peace.

****

A few days later, Jason came home to a surprise. He didn’t expect to really hear from his neighbor again beyond the occasional waves and hellos they had previously established. Just the coming and going in the stairs or passing on the street. But there on the outside of his window was a sticky note. Black with tiny nebulas, Jason’s name was scrawled with silver glitter gel pen and an arrow pointing down.

He opened the window and looked down to see if Danny was out, Jason spotted a ziplock bag full of cookies and a thermos. With Danny nowhere in sight, Jason inspected the note again and on the other side was more writing.

“I can’t cook anything near as good as what you made, but these are my favorite cookies from the bodega by campus. I like them with cardamom tea.” 

Jason opened the bag and caught a whiff of the cookies. He had fully intended to run them through a spectrometer but the enticing scent of ginger snaps and some urge deep within his soul overrode his caution. He took a small bite. And they were delicious. The spices were deep and warm. The molasses earthy. Setting them aside for a moment, he opened the thermos and took a tentative sip. The tea was still warm and lightly sweetened. The sharp spices of the tea playing well off the warmth of the cookies. 

He’d never had anyone leave him offerings like this. The thought stopped him for a moment. 

Gifts. Not offerings, gifts. He shrugged and grabbed a book from his TBR shelf. Settling in with the cookies and tea to relax before he had to go out for patrol. His mind was distracted by stray thoughts of what he might be able to leave his neighbor in return. 

****

Danny hated his teachers. He hated this city. He hated his creaky apartment. Though he didn’t mind the eye candy of his upstairs neighbor when they passed on the stairs. And if Danny turned around once in a while to watch Jason go up the stairs and enjoy the view? Well that was just the payment he deserved from the universe for the elevator always being out. There were other perks too, Danny decided thoughtfully. He and Jason had been leaving each other little offerings on the fire escape and it had become the best part of Danny’s day. It wasn’t every day, maybe more like once a week. But the joy he got when there was a little package outside his window? Unparalleled. As if matching Danny’s galaxy post it note energy, Jason left notes with his gifts on stationary that looked like old parchment paper, quotes from classic authors printed along the bottoms. Just a little explanation of what the gift was and where it was from. Or sometimes, if it were a homemade dish, Jason would include where he’d got the recipe from. Danny was on the look out for a larger notepad that was still space themed. He found he was running out of space on his post its and using two seemed like trying too hard, as if going out and buying all new stationary wasn’t also trying too hard. But Jason didn’t have to know it was new. Danny could have already had this. 

To Danny’s joy, there was a take out box outside under his window today. No Jason to be seen, but they rarely made it outside at the same time. Their schedules rarely lined up.

“I found a new korean place over off Vermont St. I got you some char sui pork buns. I hope they help tonight while you’re studying for finals. The things you’ve left for me have always made my evenings better.  -Jason”

And at the bottom, the little book quote read “‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.’” -Charlotte’s Web

What had started as a simple shared meal from Jason making too much food after work had become the best part of Danny’s week. And it seems like Jason might feel the same. A lovely give and take of food offerings. A courtship. Or at least, Danny liked to think of it that way. But even just simple friendship was a welcome feeling. At least now he knew Jason also liked their little dance and this wasn’t out of some misconstrued obligation. And Jason even remembered that he was a student and that it was finals week. That extra thought had Danny blushing as he took the buns to his kitchen counter and stuck the note on his fridge with a comet shaped magnet. Danny kept all the notes Jason left. Luckily the fridge couldn’t be seen from the window because otherwise Danny would die (again) of embarrassment. As it was, he simply enjoyed his dinner while rereading Jason’s words.

****

“Wait a minute” Dick interrupted Jason’s story description of Danny’s most recent gift of curry and boba tea. “So you and this guy-” “Danny,” Jason corrected. Dick nodded, a conspiratorial smile growing. The kind of smile your brother gets when he stumbles across potential blackmail material on you. “So you and Danny” Jason did not like that tone, “have been leaving gifts outside each others windows.” Jason nodded, “Every week, or MORE,” Dick looked pointedly at Jason for confirmation, to which Jason nodded again. “And you FINALLY tell him that his gifts ‘make your day better’ and you use the page with a quote from Charlotte’s Web about FRIENDSHIP?” 

“What’s the matter with that? It’s not like I picked it specifically. It was just the next page.” Jason was beginning to regret sharing this joy with his dick of a brother.

“Ok, So.” Dick threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders, “We need to either work on your delivery, or get you some stationary with better quotes. You’re clearly over the moon about this guy-” “Hey, what makes you say that? I just- It’s- I…”Jason stuttered, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. “Having something to look forward to after I get off patrol is nice. And having someone go out of their way to do that for me…” 

Dick really looked at his brother. It wasn’t often that Jason managed to look small these days. But there he sat, shoulders hunched, fingers fiddling with Danny’s most recent note. It wasn’t a sticky note size, but a small half page. Very much like Jason’s own notepad with the quotes from famous authors. He was absentmindedly folding the paper back and forth, making lines from star to star among the constellations decorating the page. “Jason,” Dick dropped his teasing tone and waited for his little brother to look up. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going here. I wouldn’t want you to mess it up by being impatient. You laid out your cards, in a small careful way, and you received something in turn,” he nodded to the creased note. “Keep taking those steps. I can see how happy this has made you, even as simple as it is. Keep finding things you think he’ll like. Keep leaving your little courtship gifts. And maybe just flip through your stationary and pick the quotes a bit more deliberately,” Dicks eyes glinted dangerously, “You lit’ nerd.” Dick quickly flipped backwards from sitting into several handsprings across the training mat, his maniacal laughter echoing across the cave as he tried to escape the very predictable ire of his younger brother.

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Jason rolled up onto the mats to chase Dick, joy in his heart and violence on his mind. Danny’s note settled to the floor, waiting for Jason’s response. “I hope you like curry! I got a medium spicy, but eat it with the naan if it’s too hot. Your gifts are the highlight of my day whenever you leave me something.” And then, hand written at the bottom of the page where Jason’s stationary had quotes, “With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad I ended up in a constellation next to you.”

****

“Guys, I’m going to die.” Danny declared and then promptly face planted into Sam’s couch. They were having their monthly catch up dinner and hang out. Sam was attending Metropolis University for Law with a minor in environmental studies. Her parents weren’t happy with her obvious post grad plans, but she was fulfilling their terms of getting a traditional, respectable degree, so they were footing the bill. That included her off campus apartment because no daughter of theirs was about to live in those dingy college dorm rooms. 

Tucker was attending MIT while also building a name for himself in the hacker community. Two streams he was desperately trying to keep from crossing, lest MIT expel him on ethics. 

Danny, of course, was attending Gotham U for aerospace engineering and astronomy. Their schedules made it hard to find a common evening once a month that they were all free. Danny’s ability to make portals (thanks to a new set of powers and abilities that came with being Ghost King of the infinite realms) made it slightly easier to get everyone in the same room once they found the time. Danny’s muffled voice drifted up from the couch cushions. 

“What was that Danny? I couldn’t quite get that through the literal couch in your face.” Sam sassed.

Danny lifted his face from the fluff and whined, “I left Jason the sappiest note and by the time I came to my senses, he had already taken iiiiiiiiiit! And now he’s read it and he hates me and he’s never going to talk to me again or leave me homemade cookies or anything else ever again and it’s all because I read too deep into a quote from fucking Charlotte’s Web!” He flopped onto his back and then slowly melted off the couch, thumping to the floor when Sam pushed him to make room to sit down with her pho bowl. 

“Come on man, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Tucker said. “Tell us what you wrote.” “No.”

“Don’t make me check the security footage. You know we’ve got HD cameras on your place.” Tucker, horrible friend that he was, was already pulling up the footage. The cameras had been installed as a valid security measure but were mostly used to retrieve blackmail footage against Danny by his friends. Danny had a tendency to glow and float as he stargazed on rare clear nights in Gotham and Sam and Tucker gave him no end of shit about it. 

“Did you find it?” Sam asked excitedly, crowding closer while holding Danny off with a boot to the face. 

“Yep! Let’s see, ‘Hope you like curry,’ blah blah blah, oh here. ‘With all the stars in the sky, and all the people in the world, I’m glad you ended up in a constellation next to me.’ You’re right.” Tucker declared solemnly. “It is bad. He’s never going to talk to you again. He’s gunna move states. Dye his hair. Change his name! You’ll never find him again and you’ll never find love.” Tucker lost his deadpan demeanor and dissolved into laughter. 

Danny glared at him and phased the couch out from under him. Tucker hit the floor still laughing and didn’t stop. 

“Captain Chuckles can stay on the floor, but please re-solidify my couch. I like it to exist in this dimension.” Sam nudged Tucker ever so gently out of the way so that the couch could exist again. 

“But really. Was it too much?” Danny asked Sam, since Tucker was clearly just going to be useless. 

“I think it was honest and forward. I think if you guys had been going on traditional dates, then it might be too much.” Dannys face fell and his shoulders slumped. “But!” Sam interjected quickly, “That is not what you guys are doing. For better worse, you have some archaic courting ritual going on. You’ve only been exchanging words and gifts. Small offerings of your heart and soul. To give less than your full self in this situation would be disingenuous. I don’t think it was too soon, especially since he initiated the sentiment. Sure, writing down undying love,” Danny and tucker both chuckled at the ‘undying’ part and Sam kicked them both for it, “Would have been too much. But directly stating that you enjoy the little dance you have going on? And that you like him? Nah. I think you did good. Especially since he’s clearly a literary nerd.”

“Yeah” Tucker chimed in, “He matches well with your space nerd!” 

“Oh that’s it! You’re in for it now!” Danny rolled off the couch and chased Tucker around Sam’s spacious apartment, promising to freeze him to the ceiling once he caught him. 

****

Jason decided to take a night off patrol. Nothing major should be going on tonight. The Alley could do without him being a helicopter parent for one evening. He wanted to make a more involved meal for Danny. There was a good chance that they would see each other tonight. Jason had connected some dots and realized that Danny, the beautiful face and soul that he was, liked to stargaze on clear Gotham nights. This would be the first clear night in weeks and there was no way that Danny would miss the opportunity. 

So Jason got started early. Rissoto didn’t look fancy but it took skill to get right. The results, when done right, were amazing. Jason had also picked up a bottle of wine. Call it wishful thinking, but he hoped Danny would share it with him and they might sit down and really get to know each other. That would be nice. 

****

As Jason stood, stirring his hopes and risotto, Danny was one floor down trying not to burn the entire building down. This was his fourth night trying to make the same thing.  He’d watched so many videos. So many tutorials. All of them said this could be done by a beginner cook if they just followed the steps. None of them really sold how difficult it was though. Someone needed to start a cooking channel where an average person tried to follow these recipes. 

The first attempt, several nights ago, ended in him realizing that he could not melt sugar on top of a creme brulee in a plastic ramekin. Fire plus plastic is bad. That was the first batch ruined. 

The second batch didn’t set in the oven. Which didn’t make sense because he’d done everything the same as the first batch, which had turned out fine. 

The third batch, he turned the oven up just a but realized while he was cleaning up egg shell that he’d never actually put eggs into the second batch. By the time he got the third batch out of the oven, they were horribly over cooked. 

For the fourth batch, he laid out all his ingredients, portioned and in order of use. Set his oven back to the right temperature and gave an offhanded prayer to Clockwork for proper timing. 

The timer dinged, the custards wobbled ever so slightly and Danny about collapsed with relief as he got them safely removed from the oven and set on his counter. He took a moment to contemplate how he’d ended up cooking the same dessert four nights in a row. These were way too complicated for him. But he’d done this to himself. He’d looked up “impressive desserts to make for your date” and Creme Brulee topped half the lists. Last step was to toast the tops with a micro torch after they cooled. 

Danny returned to his homework while he waited.

****

Jason opened his window, two servings piping hot seafood risotto plated and ready. He’d heard muffled cursing from downstairs, so he knew Danny was home. Most likely cursing one of his professors. Jason left the bottle of wine just inside his window. He was hopeful that the evening would go well but no sense in being presumptuous. He wasn’t even sure if Danny liked wine, or drank at all! 

Starting down the fire escape, Jason was surprised to see Danny already out. He was peering into the eyepiece of a telescope muttering to himself. Danny did talk to himself a lot now that he thought about it. Not wanting to startle him, Jason waited on the upper level of the fire escape and simply watched. Admired the object of his affections these past months. It was odd to think how much they’d both put into the relationship so far for how little time they’d actually spent together. Danny sat on the stairs in his Nasa hoodie and some Justice League pajama pants, which caused Jason to chuckle quietly to himself.

Sitting next to Danny was an open notebook, Danny’s chaotic handwriting scattered over the page along with some very precise charts. Jason almost didn’t believe they were hand drawn except that they were penned in the same aggressively bright neon green sparkly gel pen as the chicken scratch writing. What a strange dichotomy. Next to the notes sat a tray with two ramekins of creme brulee. As Dannys hand moved down to make some notes Jason noticed several bandaids with burns peeking out from under them. Had Danny made the creme brulees himself? He’d mentioned a few times that he was hopeless in the kitchen. Had he gone to all that trouble and apparently pain, to make something for Jason? 

For no particular reason, Jason needed to clear his throat, which startled Danny of his concentration trance. “Oh! You’re here!” Danny said. He capped the eyepiece and looked around. “I made you something. You’re always making things for me and I’ve just been buying things so I wanted to put more work into your gifts. So I made these. For….For us. I was hoping you’d eat with me? I waited out here for you. Also it was a great night for some stargazing so I was just doing that while I waited, of course, because sometimes you come home really late. Not that I’m watching you!” Danny’s hands came up defensively, a blush coloring his cheeks as he rambled. Eyes darting away, he started clearing off the stairs for them to sit. Moving his notebooks and the creme brulees. Jason just smiled at the disaster he was already half in love with. He couldn’t wait to learn all of Danny’s quirks and habits. Would he always ramble on or was this just jitters? Would Danny’s face light up the same way every time Jason came home from patrol? He hoped so. He wanted to make this work. He wanted to come home to that face.

“I’m actually really glad you’re out here,” Jason said, saving Danny from himself. “I’ve seen your telescope and noticed that you like to come out on clear nights. I was hoping you’d have dinner with me again. I made seafood risotto. It’s shrimp and muscles. Would you like some?” Jason presented the plates to Danny as he came down the stairs. 

“Yeah. I’d love to have dinner with you. I like any food that doesn’t try to eat my back. I don’t think I’ve ever had risotto. Let me just finish moving my junk.” He smiled as he set everything off to the side in a pile.

Jason settled down and handed one of the plates and a fork over to Danny. “How has school been going? I think you mentioned you were going for engineering?” Danny nodded. “What made you pick Gotham U? Most people are trying to leave the city, not come here.”

“Oh, that’s easy. But two reasons really. First, Gotham U has the Wayne Tech scholarship program and the great internship programs. I’ve also heard hush-hush rumors about some great job opportunities that recruit from Wayne Tech. If it’s true, I want to be here.” Danny gazed up longingly at the sky. Wayne Tech of course had partnerships with NASA but that was a well known connection. It wasn’t hush hush. The only thing Jason could think of that Danny would be alluding to would be jobs on the Watchtower. They did hire civilians, but the Justice League hand selected the best of the best. Bruce and Lucius kept their eyes out for those people. Not that he supported nepotism, but Jason wouldn’t mind making sure Danny’s name got added to the hat once he was ready. 

“The other reason,” Danny said, breaking Jason out of his future planning, “is that Gotham is the only city I could find with even half the amount of crazy as Amity, my home town. We had some crazy super villains and after growing up with that daily madness, I can’t settle down in a peaceful city.” He took a moment to savor the food, bliss coming across his face. It made Jason want to make more food for him. Jason wanted to bring him that joy again. To provide for Danny and take care of him. “This is really good! I love your food. Best thing I’ve ever had every time. I just hope what I made doesn’t give us both food poisoning.” “Hey, I’m sure it’s great. Did you burn your fingers making that? I saw the band aids. Even if you need chaos, I’m sure you don’t need to make more by burning yourself making dessert. Just walk through the alley in the daytime and I’m sure you’ll get enough excitement.” 

“Nah, Muggers are small potatoes.” Danny contested. “Most exciting thing that can come of that is Red Hood showing up. And I’m typically not out while he’s patrolling. Hood keeps most of the rif raf out of the area, so I generally feel safer here than the rest of Gotham.” 

“Hmmm. So Hood is doing better than the bats and birds? I’m sure Batman would love to hear that.” Jason bumped Danny’s shoulder playfully. “Since you’ve been here for a few months now, do you have a favorite bat or bird?”

“Red Hood.” Danny said quickly and decisively. “Definitely Red Hood. Not only does he have his area on lock down, so much so that even the other Bats stay out. Black Mask? Nope. Traffickers? Gone. Most violence? Low level. I know some of the bigger name rogues will ignore all the boundaries but they’re really not known for following the rules so they don’t really count. And also he’s….” Danny stopped abruptly, a blush coming over his cheeks. “But what about you? You grew up here. Who’s your favorite?” 

“That’s a hard choice. I remember when it was just Batman and Robin OG. So I would say it was original Robin, then Nightwing, but then he abandoned us for Bludhaven. Now It’s probably BlackBat. Though the current Robin is also doing a great job. He gets a lot of shit for being so young and violent but what do people expect? Of course he’s violent. Being Robin is not easy. It’s- And now I’m rambling on.” Jason chuckled. “BlackBat. She’s my favorite. For now.” 

“Hmmm. I haven’t heard a lot about her. It makes sense since what I have heard is that she’s the stealthiest of the bats.” 

Some time during the conversation they had relaxed, no longer holding a strict gap between their bodies. Forks clinked as they sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on the narrow fire escape staircase. A peaceful silence fell around them like a cozy blanket. 

“Can I try one of the creme brulees?” Jason asked, having finished his food already. “I would hate to see all your hard work, pain, and suffering go unappreciated.”

“Sure, but you’re taking your life into your own hands. Just do me a favor and lie to me about how good it is.” Danny passed one of the desserts and a small spoon over to Jason. Their hands touched and they both paused, but neither pulled away. 

A gentle smile grew on Jason’s face as a blush returned to Danny’s cheeks but still neither pulled away.  The world seems to pause around them, allowing them this moment. The soft light coming from the windows flickered….and then went out. 

“Um…What just happened?” Danny asked, looking around. The ambient glow of Gotham still loomed in the distance but most of the closer lights had gone out, just street lamps remained. Down at the end of the street, a red glow flickered. The glow of fire. “I gotta go.” They both said at the same time. Their eyes met in the dim light. Shadows made masks on their faces and sudden understanding lit their eyes. A mutual epiphany.

“Be safe.” Danny said to Red Hood. “You too.” Jason responded before darting back up the stairs and into his apartment. 

****

Danny’s mind was reeling. How could he not have noticed? All the clues were there in hindsight. The late nights. The tired days. The various bruises and scrapes. Even the vague half answers and glaring lack of personal info in their brief conversations. But in that moment of calamity, Jason’s entire demeanor shifted. His shoulders squared and resolution threaded every fiber of his frame, and what a great frame it was. On the plus side, Danny felt less conflicted about staring at Red Hood’s ass while courting Jason. They were the same ass. The same thighs. The same broad shoulders that Danny had way too many private thoughts about. 

Focus Danny!

Once he got into his closet, he transformed. While he no longer shouted “Going Ghost” at the top of his lungs (He was young, leave him alone), he didn’t have any way to dampen the bright flash of light his transformation gave off. So into the closet he went. 

Flying through his apartment walls and over the battle zone he quickly assessed the lay of the land. There seemed to be two groups shooting at each other from opposite corners of the street. Behind every available place of cover and down every alley, people were hiding. Sneaking into the intersection from their apartment was Red Hood, also assessing the situation from the ground. His eyes raked over both factions, the civilians, the fire escapes and windows, and even the rooftops. Danny was impressed because few people thought to look up. Danny allowed himself to pop back into the visible spectrum as Jason’s gaze passed over the rooftop Danny was hovering over. Nobody else was looking up. Nobody ever looked up.

Danny pointed at Hood, then at the violence. Then after a pause, pointed at himself and circled his hand around to indicate the surrounding area. He hoped Hood would catch that Danny was going to take care of the civilians and general crowd control. Jason nodded and took out two of his guns, checking the safety and loads before focusing on the task ahead. Danny faded back to invisibility and looked around for the most vulnerable of the civilians to get them out first.

****

The firefight took much longer to handle than Danny expected. He was used to one on one or maybe himself versus a group, but never a gang war like this. Never with so many people. So many combatants. So many innocents in the line of fire. 

The noise in the streets had been like listening to a bag of popcorn. Shots overlapping. Echoing endlessly. A constant incomprehensible cacophony of gunfire. As Danny got more civilians to safety, the density of noise began to wane. Little by little the gunfire spread out as Hood disabled the shooters and their weapons until it went from constant noise to just isolated pops to silence. 

Danny allowed himself to become visible atop the same roof as earlier when he noticed Jason looking for him once more. Danny held his fist out, thumb to the side, head cocked in question. Red Hood returned the thumb out fist and turned it up briefly, before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder back towards their apartments. Danny turned up his thumb to match and nodded before disappearing and leaving Hood to the mercy of the converging Bats. Danny didn’t even remember them showing up. He was so focused on getting people to safety. He was glad Jason had help though. He sped back to his own apartment to wait. To pace restlessly and hope that Hood hadn’t been hurt.

****

Jason was annoyed. Bruce was annoying for trying to act like he was in charge while standing in Jason’s damn apartment. Tim was annoying, standing off to the side while silently judging Jason’s lack of coffee choices. Oracle was annoying for sending Bats his way when she heard him get winged by a stray round at the beginning of the firefight. He was even annoyed with himself for somehow missing that Danny was apparently a vigilante? Or maybe a rogue? He needed them to leave. He needed to check on Danny. There was clearly some kind of powers involved but nothing to say that Danny couldn’t be hurt. That he wasn’t hurt. He’d seen Danny peek his head around the window frame three separate times before literally disappearing from view each time. Clearly waiting until Jason was alone again to talk.

“Look.” Jason interrupted whatever Bruce was saying. “I’m tired. I was already in for the night before that clusterfuck even began. I need you both out of my place because I have a date with a cup of tea and possibly a shot of whiskey.” Jason stalked over and opened the front door in clear invitation to leave. “Out. And tell O to mind their own business and butt out of my feeds.” Jason continued to motion out the door. Gentleman that he was, he even waited politely until their capes were all the way out the door before slamming it behind them. Jason took a deep breath and turned around as he felt the air shifting.

“Are they gone yet?” Danny asked. His inexplicable white hair from the battlefield was gone but he was floating a couple inches off the floor. 

Jason wondered if he knew he was doing it as he walked over to retrieve the bottle of wine. 

“Yeah. They’re gone for now. Let’s talk.” 

#dead on main #dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #red hood #my writing #deadonmayn24 #Not beta read #we die like our boys #courtship rituals #flickering #prompt fill #the word count got away from me #Fire Escape

[soloorganaas]

bed sharing - @wolfstarmicrofic - 657 words

“I am not sharing a single bed with you.”

“Sirius, it’s just one night,” Remus said crabbily.

Sirius gave Remus a withering look at his brazen dismissal of Sirius’s suffering.

It was a replay of an argument they’d been having for the last three days over Harry’s 30th birthday. He and Cedric had a large house, but an even larger group of friends, and the sleeping arrangements were becoming limited.

“And I’d like to get some sleep during it! And so would you, I’m sure,” Sirius added. “And you’re much crabbier than I am when you’re tired.”

Remus raised a deeply sardonic eyebrow, but Sirius was undeterred.

“I’m taking the other guest room,” he insisted.

“There are other guests. We cannot take two rooms!”

“We bloody well can when we’re two six foot adults being asked to squeeze into a kid’s bed!”

Remus sighed in impatience. “We’re making Harry’s life difficult. Where is everyone else supposed to sleep?”

“Harry doesn’t mind!” Sirius replied, his voice raising in line with his frustration. “They’ve added a room on the top floor for Andromeda and Ted, and if another Weasley shows up they’ll camp out in the living room.”

Remus made an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, turning away as he sensed the argument lost and yet not settled at all.

“Why are you so worked up about this?” Sirius demanded.”

“Because they’ll think that we have problems!” Remus shouted, whipping back round. Sirius balked slightly in surprise. “Sleeping in separate bedrooms! Coming up with excuses!”

“Moony…” Sirius began, suddenly softer now, trying to wrap his head around Remus’s words. “Who’s…? No one will care.”

“Oh, you don’t think Molly won’t make a comment? Or perhaps Andromeda?”

Remus could feel all logic slipping away from him, but the confusing mess of feelings bubbling away needed to overflow and this was the only place ever safe for that.

“I don’t want to be any different from anyone else. I don’t want people to think that we don’t… that we’re not…”

“That we don’t fuck?” Sirius said, goading him deliberately until he fell over the edge.

“Yes!” Remus shouted. “Or that we don’t love each other! Or share each other’s bed! Or cuddle, or you read me something from your book, or I snore too loudly when we’ve had wine, or we argue about the heating charms or anything else other married couples do!”

“I don’t think anyone snores as loudly as you, Moony,” Sirius smirked.

“Oh fuck off,” Remus snapped, waving his hand so angrily that a few books toppled off the nearest bookcase. Sirius sent them back with a quick flick of his fingers, then walked slowly over to where Remus was standing, fuming by the fireplace.

“You’ll never be able to prove to them what you think you need to prove,” Sirius said gently, resting his hands on Remus’s arms, one thumb rubbing soothingly into the crook of his elbow. “It’s our life, Moony. Doesn’t matter whether they think it’s good enough or not. It’s ours.”

Remus sighed, then leant forward until his forehead was pressed in Sirius’s shoulder.

“I know,” he mumbled. “Sorry for… I don’t know.”

“S’okay. It - it gets to me too, still,” Sirius admitted, wrapping his arms around Remus’s waist.

They stood there silently for a long moment, holding each other.

“I’ll transfigure the room so it fits a king bed, alright?” Sirius said quietly. “Harry won’t mind if I prod at the walls a bit.”

“You don’t have to—” Remus began, looking up at him.

“It’s not because of what Molly and Andromeda might think,” Sirius said firmly. “I’d just rather be with you when you’re feeling like this. And, you know…” His face spread into a teasing smile. “I like how you are when I’ve been wearing those tight jeans all day.”

“You’re not…”

“Oh, I absolutely am,” Sirius said smugly. “See how much anyone doubts that we fuck then.”

#wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #otp: i’m mental about you #hp #writing tag #they’re so silly #sirius is the ONLY place remus will ever feel safe to be angry

[boxbugdotcom]

poo poo pee pee oooohh you wanna tal;k about mumscarian asooooo bad ouuhohhhhh you wanna discuss tehem and tyour headcannons on them SOOO ABADDDD

OUHH I WANNA TALK ABOUT MUMSCARIAN SOOOOO BAD

(guys, obviously this is not about the content creators, those are real people. this is all about the characters!! ty 🫶)

guys literally ENOUGH trying to chose between Grumbo or Scarian or Redscape. they all have two hands. And it’s not Just Grumbo + Scar or Scarian + Mumbo, THEY ALL HAVE WONDERFUL CHEMISTRY!!

Grian and Mumbo CLEARLY like each other— summoning circles and bothering each other every single day (not so much this season), they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, love being around each other— a good example could be in secret life, Grian’s first task to make bad puns and have no one laugh. And what did he do?? Immediately goes to find Mumbo, despite knowing Mumbo is the world’s giggliest person!! Another one is Mumbo’s complete and total regret when making that deal with Grian for his permits— when he took the bit too far and Grian backed out he felt so bad about it!!

Scar and Grian, I mean. C’mon. We have everything about third life, and then double life— and they have such a fun teasing sort of relationship! They laugh with each other and poke fun and that’s how they are !!! They are NOT bad for each other or mean to each other or anything, they play off of each other and don’t hold grudges for their bits. Like the snails bit, or the on hold bit (all from this season), they’re just ! fun and playful together.

Mumbo and Scar are absolutely wonderful together ! their personalities work well together and they’re so hilarious— i love me a crazy bitch (scar) and the seemingly normal guy said crazy bitch totes around with him (mumbo). That’s not to say Mumbo’s normal, he’s only regular because everyone around him is batshit /j still though! Scar does all his crazy shit, and Mumbo’s along for the ride bc they like hanging out together! Mumbo loves Scar’s builds and takes inspo from them, they based next to each other on magic mountain, they’re just so !!

And let’s not forget !! the buttercups! All of season nine! The fact that they’ve based together every season since Grian’s joined!!!

as for headcanons i. literally could talk for hours about it but my phone is dying and its late,,, so have this short list!!

- Grian falls asleep in the sun SO often and whenever Scar or Mumbo finds him, they just ! join him !

- Scar’s the strongest, Grian’s the lightest, and Mumbo’s the weakest. Grian has hollow bird bones and therefore is really light ! Mumbo just is,,,, such a twink im sorry its gotta be said. He may haul redstone components around but he is NOT buff. Scar is buff okay it just Makes Sense. He can pick both Grian and Mumbo up easy

- Mumbo’s the most easily flustered, and Grian and Scar tag team flirt with him SOOOO OFTEN. It just ends in Mumbo being a red and stuttering mess

- Mumbo also is the worst at flirting— Grian’s the best, and Scar isn’t good at it but his insane demeanor and strange behaviors are so captivating to the other two. Mumbo cant flirt to save his life. He once tried a simple pickup line on Grian and forgot how it went halfway through. He’s tried to flirt with Scar and fell face first into the dirt.

- Mumbo still has insane loserboy rizz and autistic swagger. how??? no one knows! but his nervous demeanor and autistic rizz bagged both scar and grian idk

- The Buttercups was a resistance to Doc, yes, but it was ALSO Grian and Scar inviting Mumbo into their relationship. Mumbo did not realize this until FAR into the buttercups. He was not complaining

- On that note, Grian and Scar were dating first, absolutely. After 3rd life??? there was no way they weren’t. But they saw Mumbo, in all his autism, loserboy, anxiety disorder swagger, and both fell head over heels.

- Mumbo has like. Always been in love with Grian and Scar. Since they became friends, basically. But he was nervous to say anything, and then they were dating, and it was okay! Mumbo was absolutely smitten, but it was manageable. He loved them both so much— it was a bruise that only hurt when you pushed on it. But he loved being around them! He loved being their friend, so it was okay! He was their friend, and he loved them, and he was okay with that

- Of course, they DID love him back. Mumbo just didn’t realize that,,,, for a while,,,,,

I’m sure i could come up with more! but like i said it’s late and i need to sleep lmao

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitshipping #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft grian #hermitcraft mumbo #grumbo #scarian #redscape #mumscarian #headcanon #boxbug talks #asks open #ask

[rrei1]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 fluff, softie!bakugo, cursing

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 he shows you his soft side ☹️

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 I got this idea from listening to a song ☹️ I’m so lonely that i had to write this because I need comfort in my life. it’s bad. anyways enjoy!

the song in question

“ 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗂𝖾 “ － 𝖪𝖠𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖪𝖨 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

weird as it is, katsuki had a habit of showing you his soft side. one being he can’t keep his hands off you. he’s clingy, real clingy. It was shocking of how much he would touch you, and on top of that he was protective too. overprotective you would say. whenever you guys were doing practice missions and one of the guys (kaminari or mineta) would look at you with heart eyes, he would always stand behind you glaring at them. by the aura that flamed around him, they would end up getting scared or nervously laughing looking away from you. sighing with your eyebrows frowning, you turn around to spot katsuki looking away with a scoff, “don’t look at me like that.” you raised a brow placing a hand on your hip not even willing to argue with him, only shaking your head with a smile walking up to him. “you need to stop.” pecking his cheek as he grinned with a shrug. “not my fault. those damn idiots keep staring at you.” l you shake your head watching him walk past you with a chuckle but gasp feeling him pull you by your waist as he did.

what else is weird that ever since he started to have that change in his attitude, he’s been showing affection with hou around everyone but it would be minor things. like holding your hand, whenever you guys are watching a movie or sitting on the couch he or you would put his arm over your shoulder, or whenever it’s just you two out in the dorms he would always back hug you enjoying the comfort he got from your warmth, giggling each time. “kat, what’s goin on?.” he would hum holding you tighter, “shut up loser..I just had a long day.” smiling everytime using your hand to ruffle his hair. he would do this so everyone knows who you’re with, thought he didn’t like the constant teasing mina and kirishima did he still does it so no one gets any smart ideas with you. you even knew he did it to remind everyone that you’re dating him, but in reality.. he only makes that excuse so he can hold you 🤫.

he also loves touching you. like really much. though it was not a common thing he would tell everyone, touching is his love language. you thought it was cute teasing him everytime but he thought it was stupid pushing you away each time, but couldn’t help but have that cute grin on his face. the relationship was cheesy— according to kaminari and mineta probably due to jealously that bakugo out of all people got to pull you, but in reality it was cute and everyone thinks you guys look adorable together. bakugo would always yell at them feeling flustered but you would always laugh saying thank you to everyone, “awww look at them!.” mina cooed as she saw you both on the couch, katsuki’s arm wrapped around you as you were cuddled to his side eating. “they look like a married couple.” kirishima added on with a smile but his smile dropped eyes going wide as he saw bakugo’s eyes on them glaring at em both. mina and kirishima looked away from them pretending they were doing something as you heard katsuki scoff. “what’s wrong?.” you asked taking another bite from your plate looking up at him who looked at you with a frown, “pinky and shitty hair fan girling again.” he rolled his eyes as you laughed shaking your head. “let em. there’s nothing wrong with that.” you muttered, leaning up to peck his lips hearing them “awww!!” again giggling pulling back. katsuki groaned glaring at you as you laughed, “you did that on purpose didn’t you?!.” you poked your tongue out shrugging, “I don’t know..did I?.” before you knew it, he pushed you off the couch with a smug grin feeling your glare on him. “I’ll kill you!.” — “If you can catch me nerd!”

“they’re so cute together.”

“couldn’t agree more.”

#black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #{ 🖋️} writings #fluff #bakugou x black reader #bakugou x you #mha x black reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #mha #my hero academia #black writers

[makethemhoesmad]

thank you mommy- a.f.

@iminlovewithpaigebueckers and i writing duos to push the mommy azzi agenda

—

“princess, you’ve actually been working on whatever the fuck this is for houurrss” azzi whines from my bed. she’s referring to the studying i’ve been doing, which she is absolutely pissed about. 

“sorry baby, you can go to bed if you want?” i’m gonna be up for quite a while still, and there’s no point keeping her awake too.

“no,” she crosses her arms and pouts, “i don’wanna go to sleep without you princess” 

i roll my eyes and turn back to my computer. i really can’t afford to lose time, even if it’s with azzi. i’m so engrossed in the material i’m reading i don’t notice azzis gotten up and moved under my desk until i feel her warm hands separate my thighs. 

“mm, az, whatcha doin?” i whimper out. i’m only wearing a t-shirt, her t-shirt.

“shh, ignore me pretty. since all you wanna do is study, go ahead”

i try to turn back to my material, but my mind is anywhere but biology when i feel azzis tongue on my clit through my panties. the words blur in front of me as her fingers come up and pull my panties off. her tongue immediately sweeps between my folds, making me wriggle.

“ah, azzi, i can’t focus when you’re uh- doing that”

she doesn’t answer besides letting out a guttural groan that vibrates my core. i cry out, feeling something in my stomach give out. as im about to question her, beg, do something, i feel two of her long fingers stretch me open. i move my hand down to grab the back of her head, and she grabs it and puts it back onto the desk. i grumble in protest.

“a second ago you were gonna make me sleep on my own because you were studying. did that change because i made you cum? is that what i’m good for” as she spits those words out, her fingers hit a spot and im coming again. she stuffs her fingers into my mouth, and i lick them clean eagerly.

“okay, slut, listen. you’ve ignored me all fucking day to study, and now that i get so desperate for you i have to take matters into my own hands, then you decide you want me? do you want to go back to your work, or do you wanna make mommy proud?”

i try to stand up, but azzi presses her hands firmly against my thighs to prevent me. 

“i want you to tell me which one you want, alright?”

i shift in my chair, trying to hide how turned on i am. she takes her fingers out of my mouth, letting me speak freely.

“i wanna make you proud mommy, please.”

she grins, taking her hands away from me and dropping her pants, showing that she’s wearing nothing under them. 

“okay pretty, i want you sitting naked on the bed in thirty seconds, or you’ll be making love to those papers for the next week.”

she disappears into my closet, giving me limited time to rip off my shirt and lean against the pillows on my bed. azzi comes out, having discarded her top and slipped on something i know well, her strap.

“well, don’t you look pretty, mommy’s little slut all ready for me.” she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me towards her, lifting me onto her lap, right on the strap.

“so good for me, warming my cock and looking so fuckable for me princess” i whine at her words, leaning my face into her shoulder and taking mouthful, while rotating my hips over her. she moves her hands from where they were sitting, on my waist, to cup my tits. she keeps her hand around one, and brings the other to her lips. just as she closes them around it, she jumps her hips up. i cry out, feeling a knot form in my stomach. she releases my nipple and pushes me down onto her, causing moans to fall from my lips. i come for the third thing tonight and fall against azzi, exhausted.

“good fucking girl, riding my cock like it’s fucking yours” 

i grunt against her, pressing my face into her neck as a sign that id like to go to sleep. she pulls me off of her lap, causing me to groan at the emptiness inside of me. she slips off her strap, walking it to the bathroom for us to clean in the morning. 

“okay princess, one more thing”

i groan, not sure i can take anything more,when she slowly slots our legs together as she pushes me down. I can feel our wetness pressing against each other as her hips grind her onto me. the pleasure that washes through my body is euphoric and entirely overstimulating. i can barely keep my eyes open as they grow heavy with the need for sleep and the overstimulation combating the need for her to never, ever stop. Her hands hold me down at the waist as she rides my clit with no mercy. my body quickly begins to spasm as i reach another orgasm. “baby i need you to wait for me” she whines at the pressure of our grinding clits brings her closed. Tears brim in my eyes as I hold on desperately. It takes her a few more moments to reach her finish. “Be a good girl and cum for mommy like the perfect little slut you are.” As those words leave her lips, i falll apart. While my body shakes and my breathing finally starts to slow down, i feel hers start to do that same.

the bed was made earlier, so she moves us right under the blankets. azzi tucks her arms around me and puts her face against my stomach. the feel of her hot breath on me starts to lull me to sleep, along with a dull aching between my legs.

“thank you mommy,” i whisper, running a hand through azzis hair.

“you’re so welcome, my princess.

#azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers

[pepsiboyy]

idk if you take fic requests! but maybe a fic based off of Greek God by Conan Gray. like Matt or Chris pretend they don’t like yn where they’re around their sport (whatever sport, you choose!) friends. they all have a really high ego and are cocky. but there’s a tension between M/C and yn bc they used to be friends until M/C got popular but yn didn’t so now they’re not friends cuz M/C let his popularity status get to him. but they sometimes speak on the down low (M/C doesn’t wanna be seen talking to yn) they’re families are family friends which is why they’re technically forced to still talk every once in a while. but eventually the tension gets too intense, and well, M/C can’t handle it anymore and it ends up turning into a childhood friends to enemies to lovers type story 🤭 ALSO, YN STANDS HER GROUND AND DOESNT LET M/C GET HER THAT EASILY, SHES NOT JUST GONNA FALL FOR HIM INSTANTLY CUZ HE FINALLY STARTS PAYING ATTENTION TO HER!! thanks!!

GREEK GOD.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: just read the request :p warnings: cursing, mentioned of alcohol, being drunk, use of y/n lol, angst (resolved sorta) a/n: THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST!!! i hope it's what you were looking for, i spent a lot of time trying to make this work :") thank you so much for the request!!

i stood at the edge of the ice rink, my hands clasping together with high hopes.

i came to cheer on matt and chris, with nick seated beside me as he scrolled through instagram and snacked on some chips that he brought.

nick was my best friend, without a doubt. i told him everything. matt was one of my comfort friends. someone i didn't talk to as often as nick, but enough to where i feel fully comfortable talking to him about whatever may happen. chris, on the other hand...

chris was chris.

it was hard to describe the dynamic the two of us shared.

chris and i actually used to be closer than me and nick, or anyone, honestly.

he would pick me up when i fell, give me some of his snacks and even a sip of his pepsi if i wanted. he would reassure me when i felt low, and even put me in my place if he knew i was out of line.

before we knew it, high school rolled around. freshman year was relatively normal, sophomore year too.

junior year he started making newer friends, but he also had a different lunch period from the rest of us. i'd only really see him when matt gave me rides home.

senior year rolled around, and chris was a changed person. ever since he made it to the varsity hockey team with his new friends, he changed. he claims it's because we "grew apart" but we didn't. he goes out of his way to make me look bad in front of his friends, or even act like he has no idea who i am. it kind of made me feel stupid.

matt being on varsity with him didn't help his case at all, either.

so, when i came to watch them play, nick would sit with me and i would cheer on them both, even if chris pretended to hate me.

so, here i am. standing at the edge of the rink with nick, who was now standing beside me as we watched the two we knew and loved. matt effortlessly weaving past a defender, sending the puck flying towards chris, who sent it into the goal and made it.

the sound of skates cutting through ice was sharp in my ears, and the bright arena lights cast a glow over everyone while each and every cheer echoed in the cold air.

i remember when we all used to skate together freshman year here, the arena empty and our arms all linked together because i couldn't skate for the life of me, on matter how bad i tried.

those days felt like a lifetime ago now.

you had all grown a lot since then.

apart, apparently.

"hey, y/n, what are you doin' here?" a boy from the team questioned, skating to the glass with a cocky grin. "came to see the champ?" he asked, referring to chris.

i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, allowing my eyes to trail elsewhere. "just here to support my friends." i mumbled.

chris glanced over, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - guilt, maybe, or recognition of the unspoken tension between them. before i could look away, he turned back to his friends, laughing at some joke i couldn't hear.

i sighed and took a seat beside nick again, letting out a soft hum as i did. the familiar sting of hurt and anger was beginning to get to me.

the memory of chris and i being inseparable, chris changing, chris making fun of me to his friends, all of it. it hurt. popularity inflated his ego, and i always refused to be an admirer in his little fan club.

after the game, i found myself lingering near the exit of the rink. i typically waited for the crowd to die and the traffic to slow down before leaving. it was too busy for me.

the locker room door swung open, and out poured the hockey team that was riding out the high of their win. chris was among them, laughing loudly and tossing his hockey stick over his shoulder. we met eyes for a moment, and his smile seemed to falter. until he leaned to a friend of his and nudged them, mumbling something to make them both laugh.

"hey, y/n!" chris called out. "didn't think you'd stick around here. still obsessed with me or what?"

i stared at chris with a deadpanned expression. "stop getting me to stroke your ego, christopher." i bit back, trying to keep my voice steady.

this shit was annoying, really.

chris's friends snickered, and he shrugged it off, turning away as if i were nothing more than an afterthought to him. "whatever. let's get out of here."

the group moved past me, their laughter seeming to echo in the hallway. i felt a lump form in my throat, but i refused to let anyone see me get upset over something to miniscule.

i knew this version of chris was a facade, but that didn't really make it hurt any less. the boy i once loved and cared for deeply was now buried under layers of arrogance and bravado, and i wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

the crowd began to die down, so i gathered myself and pushed out of the door, making my way towards my car.

as i walked towards the car, i saw chris again, this time with his brothers as they leaned against their minivan and talked about the game together.

for a moment, chris looked up, and our eyes met. there was a flicker of something in his gaze - regret, maybe, or a silent apology - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

he mumbled something to his brothers before he kicked off and made his way towards me.

"need a ride home? matt can take you." his tone was casual, but strained.

i stared at chris for a moment in disbelief, before quickly shaking my head and sighing. "no thanks. i can manage."

chris opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, looking away. the silence between us stretched, and it filled with all the things left unsaid.

and with that, i turned on my heel and began walking home.

saturday. the days where the sturniolo household invited me for dinner were so much fun, genuinely. they were an amazing family. and chris typically acted normal around her when she was invited over.

i pulled into the driveway of their home, smiling softly to myself as i turned the music down. i pulled down the mirror and fixed my hand, humming to myself before taking my keys.

i was wearing something pretty cozy, just a crewneck and some bleached jeans and converse. they were like my second family, no need to get fancy.

i knocked on the door, where matt answered and pulled me into a hug of greeting. "hi, y/n," he breathed and smiled softly before leading me further into their home, where i was met with nick, marylou, their mother, and jimmy, their father.

"where's chris?" i questioned, the words falling from my lips faster than i could stop them.

nick exchanged a look with matt before he shrugged. "not sure, he just said he was going to some hockey party for their win last night."

i scoffed and nodded, taking a seat in my usual spot between nick and marylou.

the empty chair across from me was honestly quite intimidating. more than it would have been if chris were there.

chris was always the one with crazy stories and conversation topics.

we sat in a comfortable silence, though, which i'm sure nick and matt enjoyed as they listen to chris every day of their lives.

"you're still goin' to their hockey games and cheerin' em on?"

marylou questioned, and i turned to her and smiled. "yeah, they're really great, actually." i smiled softly, and marylou nodded.

"i know chris has been on a bit of an ego train, i hope he's still been kind to you guys." jimmy mumbled softly.

i swallowed and rubbed the back of my head. "yeah, he's been great, actually." i lied.

nick and matt stared at me, but decided not to question it before continuing their meal.

but then my phone began to ring, and everyone's attention shifted to me.

"i'm so sorry," i quickly mumbled as i removed it from my pocket and immediately felt every bit of air in my lungs leave.

why is chris calling me?

i rose to my feet and held up a finger, chuckling nervously. "i'm gonna take this," i mumbled quickly.

i made my way down the hall and to the front room. "hello?" i questioned softly.

"y/n/n," chris slurred on the other end. "i- i'm at a party, and.." he trailed off before giggling to himself, "i might.. need a ride home," he mumbled.

i sighed, rubbing my temple in annoyance. "where are you?"

chris mumbled an address, hardly coherent. "can you... can you come get me? please?"

i sighed to myself. "why can't you get matt or nick or something?"

"they'll get pissed," he stated, a little clearer than the rest of his sentences. "i don't want them to worry about me." chris struggled to get the word worry out of his system, making me crack a slight smile.

"fine," i stated as i fixed myself, "stay put. i'll be there soon."

i hung up the phone and made my way back to the dining room, where everyone collectively turned to me.

"everything alright?" nick asked, and i quickly nodded.

"everything's good, i do have to go, though. i'm so sorry you guys. i'll make it up to you?" i smiled. "i just, um.. have to run."

they all exchanged looks before nodding and bidding me farewell, nick walking me out.

i sat in my car and typed the address into my phone, rubbing my forehead.

i didn't enjoy parties. they were loud, sweaty, gross and full of annoying ass kids. usually.

and as i pulled up, it was just that. a typical high school party scene - loud music, teenagers spilling out onto the lawn, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. i found chris on the footsteps, his head buried in his hands. i quickly made my way towards him after parking and kneeled down in front of him.

"come on, let's get you home." i said, helping him to his feet.

chris leaned on my heavily as we made our way to my car. i buckled him in and got into the driver's sear, the tension between us palpable in the confined space. as i drove, chris mumbled some incoherent words, his head lolling against the window.

"y/n," he suddenly said, his voice clearer but thick with emotion. "i'm sorry."

i glanced at him, eyebrows raised. "for what?"

"for everything," he continued, his eyes half-closed. "for being an ass. for ignoring you. for... for all of it."

i took a deep breath as i felt a mixture of sadness and anger bubbling within me. i gripped the steering wheel tighter, unsure of how to respond. "you're drunk, chris. you don't know what you're saying."

"no," chris insisted, reaching out and touching my arm. "i do, i've been a jerk. i miss you. i miss us."

i pulled into my own driveway, knowing chris wouldn't want to see his family like this. i would just take his phone and send them a text saying he was with a friend tonight or something.

i turned off the engine and took a deep breath. "let's get you inside."

chris stumbled out of the car, leaning on me for support the whole way to the door. i fished for my keys and unlocked the door, quickly guiding him to my living room couch.

as i laid a blanket over him, he grabbed my hand as his eyes locked with mine.

"i still care about you, y/n. i always have."

my heart pounded, but i forced a laugh, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment. "sleep it off, chris. we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

i brushed a few loose strands from his forehead and stood up, turning off the light and going to my room. my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

part of me wanted to believe his drunken confession, but another part of me was still so angry. still hurt by the way he had treated me. as i laid in bed and stared at my ceiling, i couldn't shake the feeling that things between us were far from over. and that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated story.

the sizzling of the bacon on the oven was comforting, in a way. i had an airpod in, playing some softer, but upbeat music to get me up and going for the long, long day ahead.

i turned my head upon hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, meeting eyes with chris. "morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"morning," i replied, placing a plate of food with bacon, eggs and sausage onto the counter in front of him. "eat up. you'll feel better."

he sat down and started eating, occasionally glancing at me as i cleaned up the kitchen. after a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked at me. "look, about last night.."

i crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "what about it?"

chris looked down at his plate, poking at his eggs. "i meant what i said, you know. but i was drunk, and.. and maybe it didn't come out right-"

"maybe?" i questioned, my voice sharp. "you've been treating me like i don't exist for months, chris. one drunken apology doesn't fix that."

he winced at my words, but nodded. "i know, i've been an idiot. i got caught up in... everything. the team, the popularity. but that's no excuse."

"no, it's not." i stated, my anger beginning to bubble to the surface. "you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology and everything will be fine? it doesn't work that way." i spat.

chris stood up, stepping closer. "i'm not asking for everything to be fine overnight. i'm asking for a chance to make things right."

i shook my hear, my eyes flashing with frustration. "do you even realize how much you hurt me? how it felt to be ignored, to be treated like i was nothing?"

"i do now," he said quietly. "and i'm sorry. truly. i want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. he seemed genuine, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only the boy she used to know.

"i don't know if i can trust you," i admitted, my voice softer now.

chris reached out and took my hand in his. "i get that. and i will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."

he pulled me into a tight hug, where i gently hugged his waist and took in his scent.

i missed this.

"just one date. give me a chance?" chris mumbled, the smile audible in his tone.

i hesitated, my mind racing. part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from his bullshit. but another part of me remembered all of the good times.

"one date," i finally stated, my voice firm. "but this doesn't mean i'm just forgiving you, chris. you have a lot to prove."

he nodded quickly, his lips curving into a smile. "i promise i won't let you down."

i pulled away from his embrace and smiled at him before turning to the sink and doing the dishes. "you better now."

as i did the dishes, i felt a glimmer of hope mixed with lingering doubt. chris had a long way to go to earn the trust i had for him back, but for the first time in months, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things could change.

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