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#but he wouldn’t answer any questions about what he actually wanted you to do
sophiethewitch1 · 3 days
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Hey! I just wanted to say that I love the WWW series so much that I've literally read it like 4 times over. SO! I have several questions + observations about it that have been bugging me a little, if you don’t mind answering + talking about them.
Everyone’s ages are something that I've been curious about. I know that it’s stated that Damian and the Reader-insert are 3 years apart in age, 19 and 21 respectively. I’m assuming that they’re more like 2 1/2 years apart based on the ages we’ve been given.
Do they follow canon ages? For example, is Tim still around 7 years older than Damian???
Because i’m picturing the lineup looking something like this:
Bruce: 47
Dick: 33
Jason: 28
Tim: 26
Reader-insert: 21
Damian: 19
I was just curious because picturing everyone’s relative age is something that is really important to me when regarding the dynamics between characters.
Another thing that I noticed was how in the Reader-insert’s  original reality/world, her entire family died on the same day that Jason did. (“Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity.”). Does that remain the same in this new world?
Because that would mean that the Reader-insert’s  counterpart would have known Jason at some point, which I think is SUPER interesting. Lots of implications.
That’s supported by something that Tim says in his 1st pov: “Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.”
THAT has a few implications that I think are really interesting. It supports the idea that her family did die on the same day in this reality, and that she would have known and been living with Jason at the time (Well, before his death.)
Tim would have most likely only seen them at galas or something similar by that time…leading to his statement about how he “never really got the opportunity to meet” them.
This would mean that Jason knew her counterpart when the Reader-insert met him for the first time. 
Now, going off of all of those assumptions, I can only begin to guess what her and Dicks relationship was like before her family's death. I picture it like this:
Dick had only left the manor around 3 years TOPS before Bruce had remarried, bringing a whole nother family into the fold. Now, we don’t know too much about Dick in this story yet, (I'm SO excited to see more of him in the next chapter BTW) but I can assume that this would feel pretty upsetting. Leaving your home, and your adoptive? father only for him to marry into a whole new family not long after?
I’d be pretty bitter if it was me in his situation. I wouldn’t really want to have any kind of relationship with the new children he had taken in. MEANING that Dick and the counterpart didn’t have too much of a relationship before her family's death.
And between their death and Jason’s, Dick would probably consider the counterpart as some kind of chance to actually build a relationship with his siblings in the light of what he lost. Obviously, the counterpart didn’t appreciate the attempt.
Uhhh there’s probably a lot more that I'm forgetting to mention, but I think the way you write is super compelling, and the Reader-Insert has been the only one that I’ve ever read that I can relate to so well!
So TYSM for writing, it literally makes my day!! 🩷🩷🩷🫂🫂🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
(And I’m really bad at conveying my tone in text, so if I seem overly critical or anything then I’m really sorry!!! I don’t mean it like that!!!)
Sorry this took so long to answer I have been in sickly victorian woman mode. I'll answer these questions to the best that I can, but also I don't have everything planned and even if I did I regularly forget shit if I don't write it down <3 <3
First of all the ages- I aged both the younger Waynes up and the older ones down a bit, because I'm personally not into the super huge age gaps but also. Imagine them however you want, even if they come up later in continuity still just insert your personal preferences if you want. Like it really doesn't matter lmao they're relationship has bigger issues than the age gaps. Anyway here are how I had them written down but I might change my mind I am a fluid being
Reader: 21, Damian: 19, Tim: 22, Jason: 25, Dick: 29, Bruce: 45, Alfred: 67, Molly: Also 21, Cass: 25, Stephanie: 23, Barbara: 30, Duke: 20
Also yes, reader's family died the exact same day in both universes, and first world reader like... knew about the waynes but wasn't particularly interested in them till their own family was ripped away, then she started obsessing. in second world, reader and the batfam were like... sort of involved? she lived with them, and she was getting to know them, but wouldn't you be kind of weirded out if your mum married like. jeff bezos or something. and reader is sort of introvert coded, even if they don't read that way. it's just because she's trying so hard not to be, because she's so starved for attention. other world reader like,,, didn't seem to react the same way to what happened to her. but she might've, in the newest chapter it seems like she was talking to bruce after the disaster, and then stopped. But yeah you're right they never knew each other because not much effort was made to do so, and the Waynes are always SUPER busy.
Also about the Dick thing, he was actually pretty happy about the new family! But like you said he still didn't know other reader till the disaster. He just didn't have time to get to know her. He was obviously very upset with Bruce because he left to fuck off to Bludhaven for a while, but he's always loved how the Wayne family kept growing. Even when it was just him Jason, Babs and the weird kid who followed them around with a camera. Then he like decided he was going to treat her like a project because he has a savior complex that comes out especially so when he's having a hard time (oh damn my brothers dead). Not your best moment Dickie. I mean other reader definitely did need help but... as if she'd accept it from a guy like Dick. Imagine your entire family dies and you have to deal with the most beautiful guy on earth trying to comfort you while you look like a creature that crawled out of the sewers. And he tries to make you go outside because you're genuinely very mentally sick. I'd kill him tbh. Anyway this is all still technically up in the air and I might go back and edit the fic later because I'm like... very bad at timelines I just can never remember them properly which creates a lot of issues and inconsistencies.
Anyways thank you for sending in your questions/theories and enjoying my work so much! I'm glad you can relate to reader so well, she's like, one of the strangest characters I've ever written who refuses to behave in any concrete mannerisms because she's stubborn and has intimacy issues. But I think we're all a little bit like that lmao. And thank YOU for reading my stuff, I wouldn't still be doing it if it weren't for folks like you :P (also also you didn't come across as critical at all, you were very polite!!!)
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
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Taking Calls
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
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Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
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zhongrin · 6 days
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honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?
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© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff
✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.
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al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”
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wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”
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neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.
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childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?
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kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”
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diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”
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tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie
@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone
@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee
@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc
@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer
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sim0nril3y · 3 months
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.
Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.
It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.
There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.
So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.
The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.
Bloody hell. He was in deep here.
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That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.
These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.
“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.
Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”
This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.
Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”
You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”
You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.
“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."
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Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024
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freebreadmoon · 3 months
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is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?
YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS
warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing
requests are open!!
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You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.
Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”
“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.
“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“
“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.
“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.
“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.
“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.
“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.
“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.
“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.
“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.
“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.
“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.
“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.
“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.
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While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.
“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.
“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.
“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.
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taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor
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minarinnn · 4 months
Text
“notice me” pt2
luke castellan x aphrodite!reader | pt1
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content/trigger warnings: fem!reader, SMUTT, p in v, virgin!luke, unprotected sex, rough sex, bold!reader
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it’s been a week since that day and you haven’t spoken to luke at all. if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were ignoring him
you were. but this was all part of your twisted game. he made you wait for months, now it’s his time to wait. you wanted him to feel how you felt, maybe then you’ll give into your desires
you’d pretend not to see him, or be busy with studying or teaching your younger half-siblings. luke grew more and more impatient by the minute. he knew that you had always been a master at playing with peoples feelings, being aphrodite’s daughter and all, but this was going too far. he didn't understand why you were ignoring him when it was you who wanted his attention in the first place
every time he saw that you were free, you would leave. you wouldn’t even shoot him your flirty smile like you always did, all you did was spare him a simple glance
he felt like he was going insane, he’s never had to fight for your attention. it just came naturally. how you’d bat your eyelashes at him while complimenting his fighting style, or how you’d place your hand on his bicep as you spoke to him
he never thought he’d be the one doing the chasing. so, finally, after what felt like an eternity of being ignored, luke had had enough. he walked up to your dining table, interrupting your conversation with your half-sister, drew. “hey, can we talk?” he spoke, voice low and almost sounding desperate
“sure” you agree, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek. “in private” he mutters out, eyes boring into your own. you nod, following him to the storage shed just outside his cabin.
you enter the small, dark shed, feeling luke’s intense gaze on you. it feels almost like it's burning holes into your skin, like he's trying to see right through you. he leaned on the wall, crossing his arms under his chest, his muscles subconsciously flexing showing just how toned his muscles actually are
luke took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and serious. "so, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?" his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of an explanation. you remained composed, not wanting to give away the game you were playing. "my world doesn’t revolve around you, castellan” you said with a playful smile
luke clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "dont play games with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about” he took a step closer to you, eyes locked on yours “answer my question”
you felt your heart pound in your chest as luke steadily closed the distance between you. his presence was inescapable, and the tension between you was palpable. you felt yourself getting needier by the second. the way your pussy throbbed at just his words had you weak
you looked at him through hooded eyes, a playful smile still tugging at your lips. “you wanna know that bad, huh?” you said, putting your hands to his toned chest. “you drive me insane” he whispered, lust practically pouring out of his body
“i know” you chuckled softly. luke just looks at you, his expression unreadable. leaning in, he finally kisses you. the kiss is sudden and fierce, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that you haven't seen in him before. you wrap your arms around luke’s neck, pulling him closer to you. the kiss becomes more desperate as he pushes you against the wall, it was more urgent, as if neither of you could get enough of the other
his hands are quick to find their way under your shirt, groping your breast over your bra. he was desperate to get the fabric off of you, desperate to feel you
he takes his own shirt off, you following suit. you giggle as his fingers fumble on the clip of your bra, fingers stumbling against each other as he blindly tries to take it off. you help him, of course.
his mouth quickly latches on to one of your perky nipples, groaning with a sense of satisfaction while his fingers pinch the other, making you squirm under his touch
your fingers pull and scratch on his scalp, a feeling he’s seeming to enjoy to the fullest, given the way he’s moaning against your skin. your free hand undoes his belt, efficiently pulling his pants down under his hips. a voice in the back of his head wanted to ask you if you’ve done this before, but he was too fucking horny to wanna do anything else in that moment
he’s panting, face flushed as he pull don’t your shorts along with your panties, biting his lip to prevent the whine he was gonna let out once he saw the mess you’ve made on your panties. he hasn’t even done much, talk about an ego boost
he’s snapped out from his thought when he feels your cold manicured fingers wrap around his length giving it a few strokes. the tip of his dick flushed a bright reddish pink, feeling the veins throb in your hand at the newly found sensation
“first time?” you tease, knowing full well that it was. “i’ll be gentle, promise” he replied smugly, raising on of your legs to his hip, tip aligning with your entrance. the moment he pushes the tip in, you both gasp. he’s much bigger than you expected, and you’re much tighter than he expected
“fuck” he panted out “s’tight”. your nails dug crescent moons on his shoulders as he sunk the rest of his length into your throbbing cunt. he’s quick to pull out and slam back into you, making you shamelessly moan out his name and your eyes rolling back
he might not have done this before, but he knows how sex works. he promised he’d be gentle, but luke castellan isn’t know for keeping promises, is he? and after you made him wait a whole week, you more than deserve a little punishment
so he’s thrusting up into you, giving you little to no time to adjust to his cock. and you’re so loud about it too. so he puts his middle and index finger into your mouth. “suck” is the only thing he says before your cheeks hollow out and your tongue wraps around his fingers. he can feel the vibrations of your moans through his arms and it’s coursing straight to his dick, making it throb inside of you
“good girl” he mutters into your neck, making you tighten impossibly tighter around his dick. a few more thrust and your cumming on his cock. he doesn’t let you come down from your high, his thrust maintain the same quick and rough pace they had before, making you whine against his fingers at the overstimulation
tears pooling in your eyes as he’s kissing your forehead. “you’re doing s’good f’me baby” he’d grunt out “im gonna fuckin’ ruin you”
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© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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cherienymphe · 4 months
Text
Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄
~
“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”
Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.
“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”
It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”
She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.
You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.
“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”
You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.
“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”
She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.
“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”
Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.
“I’m going to take these up to my room.”
“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.
After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.
You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.
Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…
You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.
Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.
Trying to do the right thing.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.
She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.
“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”
They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.
“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”
You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.
“Sarah…”
She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.
“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”
You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.
“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”
Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.
“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”
With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.
“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.
It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.
“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”
“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”
Your eyes widened.
“Sarah…”
Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.
“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”
The other girl trailed off as he spoke.
“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”
She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.
“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”
“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”
You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.
You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.
“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”
His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.
“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”
You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.
The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.
“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.
Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.
“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”
“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.
His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.
For your sake.
With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.
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Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.
“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”
The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.
However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.
Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.
Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.
“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”
It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.
“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”
Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.
“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”
The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.
“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”
“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.
You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.
When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.
You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.
“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.
You hated the way it fell.
“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”
“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.
“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.
By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.
“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”
“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.
Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.
“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”
“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.
You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”
You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.
“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”
She perked up.
“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”
“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”
“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”
You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.
“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”
You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.
“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”
Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.
Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.
JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.
“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”
He frowned, glancing away.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”
“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.
JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.
“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”
You scoffed.
“Don’t try to turn this around-!”
“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”
You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.
“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.
“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”
You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.
“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”
With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.
“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”
Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.
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It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.
…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.
You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.
You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.
“I���m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”
Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.
“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.
“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”
She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.
“He always is,” she snidely replied.
At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.
“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”
Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.
“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”
She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.
“It’s probably not that simple.”
At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.
“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”
Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.
“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.
You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.
The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.
Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.
“Here, give him these.”
She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.
“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”
John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.
“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.
Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.
“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.
Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”
You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.
“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.
Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.
“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”
The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.
“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.
“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”
You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.
Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.
“That’s not an excuse-.”
“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.
He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.
“That’s different,” you argued.
JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.
“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”
You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.
“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”
You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”
“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.
When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.
“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”
You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.
“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”
You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.
“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.
JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.
“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”
Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.
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babyleostuff · 18 days
Text
today was (not) a fairytale
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fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k
. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary
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mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 
and now he was late. two hours. 
at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 
nothing. 
sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 
then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
he was at seungcheol’s place. 
not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 
“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 
“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 
“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 
“fan-fucking-tastic.” 
you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 
“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 
you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 
the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 
“happy anniversary i quess.” 
when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 
“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 
“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 
“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 
“i know, baby-,” 
“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 
“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  
it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 
“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 
tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 
“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 
“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”
he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  
“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 
his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 
i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 
“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 
“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 
“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 
“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  
maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 
“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 
technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 
mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 
“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 
“yeah?” 
“you can call me “baby” again.”
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slttygeto · 5 months
Text
HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU
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what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.
today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?
note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much
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a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.
“why did you two break up?”
the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.
“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”
“do you miss her?”
“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”
“has she moved on?”
“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”
“was she private about being with you?”
“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”
gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.
when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.
four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.
you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.
when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.
“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.
“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”
“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.
“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”
“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.
“you had no closure?”
“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.
“why do you think you broke up?”
“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.
“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“
“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.
“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”
there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.
“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.
“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.
“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”
“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.
“would you like to try again?”
you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.
“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.
“I would love to.”
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houseofceline · 5 months
Text
My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Stupid Potions Exam
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
Summary: Theo's not the one to tutor anyone but maybe he'll make an exception for a certain pretty girl?
&lt; 3
__________________
“Damn mate you starving?” Mattheo teased as Theo scarfed down a muffin that Lorenzo found in his backpack. 
Theo rolled his eyes as he finished chewing, “Hannah wouldn’t fucking leave my room this morning and made me miss breakfast.” 
“You still seeing her?” Lorenzo questioned with his eyebrows raised. 
“Seeing her is a bit of a stretch,” Theo replied, wanting to throw up at the mention of the girl. Sure she was a good fuck and all but he never understood why she had to throw a fit every morning after. It wasn’t the first time he threw her out in the morning, matter of fact it was everytime they slept together and yet the Slytherin girl still wanted to make a scene. 
“Should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face when she cried and looked towards him for help,” Theo laughed, recalling the frightened yet disgusted expression his roommate made at her cries. 
“You’re a gentleman for sure,” Mattheo spoke sarcastically as Theo chuckled at the statement. 
“Yeah definitely,” Theo replied back in the same tone. 
“Mate I’m definitely flunking tomorrow’s potions exam,” Lorenzo sighed as the trio approached the library. 
Theo knew that studying with these two idiots nothing would actually be done, but what else was there to do on a Thursday night? 
“Speak for yourself I’m ready to pass,” Mattheo boasted knowing that they had about the same grade in the class. 
The three Slytherins looked for a place to sit. 
The library was packed, it seemed like everyone in the damn castle was here preparing for some sort of exam tomorrow. 
“Found a spot,” Mattheo spoke up as Theo and Lorenzo followed behind him. 
“Mind if we sit here princess?” Mattheo asked as Theo moved beside him to see who he was talking to. 
Pretty girl from potions. What the fuck was he doing calling her princess?
“Princess? You two dating or something?” Theo teased even though this was the last thing he ever wanted to picture in his head. 
You looked away blushing while shaking your head. 
This was one of the worst ways you could’ve responded to his answer in his opinion. Theo wanted to drown Riddle first and then himself at the thought of you blushing over him. 
You didn’t think much of it. You knew that there were no actual romantic feelings between the two of you. You didn’t have any friends in history of magic and after meeting the two Slytherins they became your only friends in that class. 
Despite not giving Mattheo an actual answer to the question the three boys took seats at your table. 
Theo was quick to take a seat in front of you while Mattheo settled down beside you. 
“Oh we’re all studying for potions?” Lorenzo took a peak at your books. 
You sighed before pouting and nodding. 
“It’s the worst subject to ever exist.” 
Lorenzo nodded in agreement while Theo gasped. 
“Worst? It’s one of the easiest subjects,” Theo scoffed while you and Lorenzo gaped at him. 
“Tutor us then Nott,” Mattheo rolled his eyes as he took out his books as well. 
“No, go ask Malfoy.” 
You giggled at their interaction. 
If your laugh was the first thing you hear when you get to heaven Theo decided he was going to start being a better person. 
“No, Malfoy calls us stupid fucks everytime we get an answer wrong,” Lorenzo pretend to cry while the table next to us shushed him very loudly. 
“Damn okay.” 
“Open your damn book mate, you're the one that’s most likely to fail,” Mattheo said as he started to take notes. 
“Actually that might be me,” you mumbled quietly as you tried focusing on the same paragraph for the thousandth time. You had read it over and over again but it felt as if it was impossible to retain the actual information. 
“You good?” Theo whispered as he watched you stare blanking at the textbook. 
He was doing charms homework. He didn’t think he needed to study for potions as he felt comfortable in his naturally gifted abilities. It was like relying on common sense for him. 
You nodded hesitantly. Truth be told, you were so far from good. 
You were positive that you were not going to pass the exam tomorrow. Your Ravenclaw was not Ravenclawing. 
You couldn’t afford to get another bad mark since the exam would pretty much break or make your passing grade. 
Another lecture about grades from your parents was the last thing you needed when you were still trying to earn their support for your chosen career. 
Theo could tell you didn’t mean it. 
He looked over to Mattheo and pleaded for him to leave. 
He smirked before kicking Lorenzo’s leg motioning towards the two of you and then the doors. 
Thank merlin he got the hint and began packing his things up. 
“I’m feeling pretty tired, I need a nap break,” Lorenzo let out an award winning fake yawn as Mattheo nodded in agreement. 
“We’ll see you guys later,” Mattheo waved before nodding to Theo for good luck. 
Theo definitely owes them one. 
“Here I’ll help you,” Theo offered as he got up and took Mattheo’s seat. 
He scooted your chair closer and placed his arm around the back of your chair. 
You started to feel your face heat up at his close proximity and hoped he didn’t notice. 
He shifted the textbook towards the middle of you two before grabbing parchment and a quill from his backpack. 
“Here take some notes,” he handed them to you as you nodded obediently. 
“Wound-cleaning potion,” Theo began to read out loud to you as you started writing.
“Characteristics are as follows: purple, smoke and stung upon contact.” He listed and waited for you to finish writing before continuing. 
You mentally thanked him for putting everything into simpler terms for notes as you wrote down everything he said. 
Reading through the textbook it was hard to understand what the potion exactly was because it had so many words. 
He continued to read and stop every time he wanted you to write something down. 
In between your writings you couldn’t help but admire his face as his attention was fixated on the book. The dim lighting in the library made his jawline and face features stand out and appear sharper than normal. He looked so pretty. 
“Stir counterclockwise for five minutes,” Theo finished as he turned his head catching you looking at him. 
You immediately looked away and tried to hide your rosy cheeks as you wrote down what he had said. 
It didn’t go unnoticed by Theo as he chuckled seeing your shy state before turning his attention back to the book. 
Maybe another time he would tease you for getting so nervous around him, but tonight his goal was to make sure you passed the exam tomorrow. 
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theemporium · 6 months
Note
SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN
could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“What…the…fuck.”
Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.
“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.
“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”
“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”
“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”
His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”
Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?” 
“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you. 
“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”
“You said you wanted them.” 
“I said I liked the look of them.”
“Same thing.”
It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.
But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.
“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”
“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.
“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head. 
“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.” 
“Max—”
“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh. 
“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper. 
“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”
You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”
“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.” 
His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.
.
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spacedace · 26 days
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Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help
-
Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.
The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.
Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.
The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.
That social worker.
“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.
“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”
He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”
“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”
Nightingale frowned a little at that.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”
“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”
“You wanted to work here.”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.”
Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.
She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?
Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.
“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.
“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”
She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”
Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”
Jason considered her.
Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.
It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.
Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.
For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.
And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.
He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.
“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”
“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”
Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.
“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”
Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.
“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”
Oh.
Those.
“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”
He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.
“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”
Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.
“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”
Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
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simon 'ghost' riley x reader
mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares
always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.
he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.
he knows it hurts you but it's hard.
slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.
☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.
"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.
but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?
"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.
"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.
☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.
your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"
"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.
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twirlyleafs · 4 days
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“Gold-digger.” (Pt2) (pt1 here)
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: nothing really, angsty? lol
A/N: oml so many of you asked for a part 2 and I’m just so happy you liked the first part!! thank uuu!!
~~~~
To say that you slept bad was an understatement. The moment Daniel let you in to his and Heidi’s hotel room you had started crying and it took almost half an hour before the couple got a sense of what had happened. They’d been at the dinner, hearing Maxs comments, and after piecing it together with what you were telling them now they began to see the bigger picture. Heidi sat with you on the balcony while Daniel made up the couch, insisting you should share the bed with his girlfriend despite your objection.
You hadn’t been able to sleep that much, and it wasn’t because Daniel’s snoring or Heidi’s tossing and turning. Every time you were about to fall asleep you could hear Maxs voice telling you what a shitty girlfriend you were, or you imagined him complaining to his friends that you used up his money like some sort of gold digger. You knew he didn’t think quite like that, and he definitely wouldn’t do any of those things but the knowledge of how he saw your whole relationship had you spiraling.
When Daniel woke, he was always an early riser, he found you already wide awake and anxious. The Aussie knew by the look on your face that you didn’t want to leave the safety of the hotel room alone and he quickly invited you to breakfast. Said and done, Daniel kissed his sleeping girlfriend goodbye before the two of you trudged out in the hallway. It was still early enough that everything was quiet and empty, the only sound being your yawn and Danny typing on his phone.
“You think they have pancakes?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked. He hummed, looking up from his phone with a small smile.
“I hope so. I need some.”
“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Me too. And I need them to practically be swimming in chocolate sauce and-“ You stopped, both talking and walking, when you saw a door open further down the hallway. Daniel walked a few more steps, glancing between Max stepping out of the room and you with an apologetic pout. He must’ve told Max you were coming. Asshole. You met his gaze and he mouthed a sorry, making you shake your head before carefully looking over at the man standing in the doorway. He offered an unsure smile. Daniel grabbed your arm, giving you no choice but to start walking again. When the two of you reached Max he gave you an encouraging squeeze and patted Max on the shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway. You should’ve known you couldn’t trust Daniel.
“Hey.” Max said softly, making you look up at him. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes and judging by the way his face fell he probably noticed how red yours were.
“Hi.”
“You wanna talk?” Max opened the door a bit wider and with a soft nod you snuck past him into the room. You heard him let out a breath of relief and you found yourself being almost grateful that he seemed to be just as nervous as you were. You sunk down on the edge of the bed, watching as Max sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How are you feeling?”
You shrugged and pulled your legs up under yourself, casting your gaze down on your fiddling fingers. “Not to good, I guess.” You answered honestly, Max answering with a soft hum, agreeing. Things were quiet for a while before he spoke up.
“Are you still angry?” You would’ve been annoyed at the question if it wasn’t for the genuine sadness in his voice. Instead you shook your head.
“No. Just a bit sad I think.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad schatje.” His words were almost whispered. You looked up at him through lashes.
“Do you still believe we’re only together because you’re paying me?”
“That was never- that not what I meant.” He practically whined, shaking his head. “I love you.”
“You just don’t think I actually love you? I’m just using you for your money?” Max gave you a defeated look, shaking his head quickly.
“That’s not-“
“It’s exactly what you said Max!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You felt the tears pressing behind your eyes again. “Do you know how much of a bad fucking girlfriend I feel like knowing that’s how you see us? Me?” His eyes widened slightly but he didn’t have time to say anything before you started talking again. “I mean, I would’ve paid for my own food, my own travels- everything! If I just knew you felt like that I wouldn’t have let you spend your money on me but you always insist and you’ve always told me you wanted to-“
“I do want to.” He intervened quickly.
“But you want to for the wrong reasons. You want to because you think you need to, because you think I want you to.” When your eyes met again you could tell Max didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed again, no words coming out as his gaze faltered to the ground. You reached up and quickly wiped a stray tear, sniffing quietly as the silence settled. It felt like forever before you heard Maxs voice again.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either.” You agreed.
“Let’s just-“ Max sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Let’s just go home, yeah?” When you didn’t answer he leaned forward slightly, trying to get your attention. You slowly raised your gaze to met his, both your eyes portraying to much emotions to process.
“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”
“Yeah, okay. Yeah sure.” He nodded, swallowing harshly. “I’ll- eh, I’ll go down to breakfast and you can order up? If you want to? And then I’ll text you when it’s time to leave for the airport?”
“No, Max.” You shook your head, face contorting in a sad frown. He paused, offering an encouraging nod. He wanted you to tell him what you needed, how to fix this. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. Or at least he thought so. “I think I need to be alone for more than a few hours. Like, I think I should travel alone back home, maybe even back to my parents for a bit. Just to-“
“Wait.” You hated the look of panic mixed with pure hurt that flashed across his face as he sat up a bit straighter. “Wait, no, y/n please.”
“I’m not saying that we’re breaking up Max.” You assured him, watching with a heavy heart as he stood, quickly making his way over to you. The second he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed his hands found yours and you could feel the panic seeping through his fingers.
“I get that I fucked up. I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it. Liefje please don’t-“
“Max.”
“Please don’t leave me. You know I love you, right?” With every word his voice lost its steadiness and you could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I love you so much-“
“Max.” You interrupted him again, pulling your hand from his grasp to reach up and cup his cheek. “I know, alright? I know. I love you too.” His eyes flickered between yours, unconsciously leaning into your palm.
“Don’t leave.”
With a soft breath you leaned in to press a light kiss against his lips before shuffling closer, letting him wrap his arms around your body. When you placed your head against his chest he tightened his grip, terrified of letting go. The two of you sat like that, just holding each other for what felt forever. You thought back on the past twelve hours. The words that had been said, the insecurities that’d bubbled up. You knew Max never meant to hurt you, you knew that even before you entered his hotel room this morning but the conversation you just had cemented it. The man currently holding you tightly against his chest was the love of your life, no doubt about it, but that didn’t change the fact that all you could think about right now was money. His money, your money, how you could ever let him spend even one euro on you ever again. The thought had your insides churning and that’s why you knew you needed time. Time to process and figure this out before you could come back to him.
“How long?” You snapped out of your thoughts at Maxs voice, so quiet and gentle that you barely caught it at first. When you asked what he meant he let out a breath. “How long do you need? How long til you come back?”
“I don’t know Max. But I’ll come back. I promise.”
~~~~
Ten days. For ten days the only contact between you and Max had been an occasional phone call and a few pictures. He sent you updates on Jimmy and Sassy and you answered with pictures of your parent’s dog, Bongo. Other than that he gave you the space you’d asked for, no matter how much it hurt him not to constantly beg you to come home.
During your time at your parent’s house you’d spent your time just being. Going back to your roots. You hadn’t been brought up traveling the world in private jets or expensive boats and despite loving your life with Max it felt nice to just trudge around your parents backyard in your pajamas, throwing sticks for your dog to fetch. Your father was the most logical person in your life, he’d always been the one you’d turn to when you needed advice and this time it was no different. Your parents both loved Max and they were obviously upset when you came home crying, but after a few days spent talking and reasoning with them you finally saw the situation in a different light. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you carefully slipped the keys into the door of your apartment, a deep breath leaving your lips when you stepped inside. You were relived to finally be home and you could almost feel yourself buzzing at the thought of seeing Max again. You spoke his name as you walked through the apartment, frowning slightly at the stillness of it. It took you a few minutes before you finally made it to Maxs office, stopping in the doorway when you saw him. He was in his gaming chair, one knee tucked against his chest and chin resting tiredly against it. The computer was turned off, instead his attention was on the toy in his hand as he bounced it slightly for Sassy to play with. You smiled softly at the sight, feeling your chest swell when you heard Max mumble something to the cat.
“Where’s Jimmy?” Despite your words coming out soft and quiet Max flinched, dropping the toy to the ground as he looked up at you. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as he took you in, trying to convince himself you were really there.
“You’re home.” He stated and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, nodding.
“I told you I’d come back, right?” Max just shook his head, rising from the chair. In a few quick strides he reached you, immediately wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you tightly against his chest. Without a thought your arms snaked around his waist, feeling your whole body relax completely for the first time since before all this. You didn’t know exactly what it was that had you suddenly feel your throat closing up, the tears pressing behind your eyes as you turned your face even deeper into his shirt, but you knew they were good tears.
“Fuck.” Maxs voice was shaky, you could tell he was on the verge of crying too, and you squeezed him even tighter. “Fuck I missed you.”
“I missed you too Maxie.” You mumbled against his chest, breathing in his scent. You’d known you’d missed him while at your parents, but somehow you hadn’t expected to be quite this emotional reuniting with him. The two of you held each other for a moment, only separating slightly when Sassy pushed her way between your legs, loud noises leaving her small frame. As you leaned away from Max you chuckled down at the furry creature, softly assuring her that you’d missed her too, before your gaze moved up to your boyfriend. You found him already staring down at you, one hand reluctantly leaving your body to reach up and cup your cheek. When you leaned slightly into his palm you noticed him release a breath, finally a small smile making its way to his face. It disappeared too soon for your liking, a light frown taking its place.
“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice serious.
“Max-“ you sighed, but he shook his head and you pressed your lips together, deciding to let him talk. By the look on his face it seemed like he really needed to get this out.
“I realized a few days ago that I never actually apologized. I wanted to call and tell you straightaway but I didn’t want to disturb, I didn’t want to say it over text either but- baby I’m so sorry.” Max spoke slowly, he needed you to really hear him. “I never should’ve said any of that shit and even though I didn’t mean it like you think I did I should’ve realized how it sounded.” He paused for a second, hand slipping from your face to gently hold yours between your bodies. You nodded encouragingly, gently swiping your thumb across his knuckles as he continued. “For me it has always been sort of obvious that the things I have I’ve gotten because of racing. My dad always said that if I wanted something I had to be the best and I guess that just fucked with my head, fucked with the way I see myself and people around me. I’m used to people wanting something from me and somehow I applied that to you too, despite the fact that I’ve actually never felt like that with you. I fell in love with you because you made everything seem so effortless, like you just needed me and nothing else. You’ve never asked me for anything, even if you could and I’d happily give it to you, and I can’t for my life figure out why I would say what I said. I think it was my own insecurities, my fears, that had me place those thoughts on you and I can’t stress enough how fucking sorry I am for that.” He swallowed hard, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he waited for you to answer. Your eyes trailed over his face and you contemplated carefully how to respond before eventually speaking up.
“I know you didn’t mean it like- like I thought in the beginning. I realize that now, after some time. I understand your point of view- or maybe I don’t understand it but I accept it. I know you Max, I know the way your mind works and your insecurities. But you also know me and it really hurt me to know that even the thought of me being with you for your money crossed your mind.” His gaze dropped down to your hands at your words, nodding. He was ashamed, you knew he was, and despite knowing he might deserve it you really didn’t want him to. Not anymore. With a soft breath you pulled your hand from his, reaching up to cup both his cheeks. When Max met your gaze again you offered a small smile, thumbs moving over his skin. “We all let stupid thoughts cloud our minds sometimes, that’s human. I’m not holding it against you as long as you promise me you’ll tell me if you ever actually feel like I’m somehow taking advantage of you. Or your money.”
“I promise.” He nodded quickly and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. Without another word you reached up on your toes, capturing his lips in a long awaited kiss. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a short and sweet peck the both of you craved more, having been away from each other for way too long. Max deepened the kiss and it didn’t take long until he hoisted you up in his arms, lips instead attacking your neck and shoulder as he mumbled scattered declarations of love against your skin.
Later that evening the two of you laid curled up in bed, legs tangled together and Maxs head placed securely on your chest. As your fingers combed their way through his hair his drew random shapes against your skin, both of you enjoying the sounds of Jimmy and Sassy’s purring from the other side of the bed.
“I’d love you every time.” Max mumbled suddenly, making you pause for a second before continuing your movement.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d find you no matter what, I’d love you in every timeline and every universe. No matter what any of us were doing I’d find a way to be with you.” His words were almost a bit slurred, the sleepiness thick in his voice, but you heard him loud and clear and it made your heart swell.
“I’d find you too Max. Even if you worked at a gas station.”
~
Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <33 @brod16 @spookystitchery @witchsbitchestime @bingussthirdtoe @itsjustkhaos @tylerstacobell @ironmaiden1313 @bitchreader @sp1rl @marvelfangirl04 @kravitzwhore @darleneslane @amberpanda99
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lovebugism · 9 months
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What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺
hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.
Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.
The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.
Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.
“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”
Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often. 
It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.
You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.
He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.
“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.
Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”
Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect. 
He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be. 
You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.
“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.
The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”
“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.
“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”
“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.
Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.
Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both. 
It breaks his heart all the same.
Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.
Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held. 
“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”
Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”
“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”
You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.
Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long. 
He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”
You’re smiling before you realize it.
You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.
“Really?”
“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”
You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.
Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.
“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”
Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.
“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.
“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”
He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.
“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.
“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”
You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.
“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”
Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”
Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.
“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.
It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.
“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise. 
His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!” 
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clockwayswrites · 9 months
Text
Both Ways at Once Part 1
wc 868, Masterpost
“You’ve read the dossier?”
The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”
“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”
“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.
“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”
“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”
“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”
“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.
It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.
John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.
Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.
Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.
(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)
“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.
“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.
“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.
“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”
Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.
There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.
He might be sick.
“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.
That was a protector spirit.
He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.
The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.
John screamed something at him.
The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.
Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.
A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
How dare they.
----
AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.
But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)
Stay delightful (and well), darlings!
I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!
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