#CAN I SAY THAT? THE WONDER WOMAN SCENE AND THE ADULT GOD WOMAN DATING A TEENAGERRR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

2K notes · View notes

sparks-olivarpente · 9 months

Text

Byler Fics List: the Grown-ups

I adore Stranger Things adult characters, here are some fics where they play an important part:

Until you wake up by Roxhylee Will is in a coma and Mike visits him every day. This one has some of the most thoughtful Ted-and-Mike chapters and an interesting take on Ted <3

Wedding at the End of the World (What do We Have to Lose?) by Julia_Skysong "Hang on, hang on," Jonathan interrupted, frowning slightly. "Let me do the math here. You've only been a…thing, for like a few days? And you want to get married?" "Dude, you're gonna get a new step-dad! Argyle cheered, trying to high five him. "Please for the love of GOD let me officiate this," Murray cackled. OR Joyce and Hopper decide to have a spontaneous wedding at the end of the world and help their kids figure out love and life.

Bananas and Closure by @tired-bisexual-brainrot Hopper runs into Diane while at the store. He invites her over for dinner, and she finds out that he now has a whole family with three kids and a wife.

No Cure for Queer by AlabasterInk (@alabasterswriting) Will Byers had about thirty minutes between realizing that the butterflies in his stomach came from appreciating Mike’s smile a little too much, to walking into his house and hearing Hopper say, “…wrong, Joyce. A guy with another guy. We used to arrest queers, you know…” And it all went downhill from there.

california show your teeth by @fireflywitch Fourteen months after a rash of unexplained disappearances tore an Indiana town apart, a new chief of police and his very normal, nothing-to-see-here family moves to Hawkins from Lenora Hills, California. "I wondered what it would be like if the Byers, El, and Hopper had grown up in Lenora Hills instead of Hawkins and moved to Indiana later on - how things would be different and what things would stay the same and which characters might be better off or worse off…" for Claudia and the Moms <3

You May Be the One Place I'm Sure About by elsie (the_technorats) the one where Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper finally have a moment to themselves. no byler here but you should read it all the same ;)

mom, i'm gay. wait, you are too? by dragons_like_smores @howtobecomeadragon “What if there are no men out there for me, Michael?” Mike, not focused at all on his mom, said absentmindedly, “Then maybe you can just date a woman.” Or: Mike unintentionally starts Karen's lesbian awakening while he simps for his boyfriend, Will, all summer long.

poor old jim's white as a ghost by AttaboyLuther Even when he started on the force back in 1980… Jim Hopper knew there was something special between William Byers and that brat Mike Wheeler. (AKA: Mike and Will fall in love, told through the perspective of one Chief Hopper)

and if you wanna cry or fall apart (i'll be there to hold you) by Strangerangels Mike Wheeler and his relationship with Will Byers, as told by Joyce Byers. Inspired by that scene in S2 where Mike holds Joyce and leads her into the car. Y'know, the one where Bob dies. You just know Mike is going to be the best in-law Joyce will ever have.

The Darkest Eyes by @light-lanterne a semi canon-compliant character study of mike wheeler, his unaddressed trauma and his relationship with will byers, told through the eyes of a very tired jim hopper who can’t help but to become attached to the boy who keeps dating his children.

The Right Thing by Nymphadoragreenleaf The second pregnancy was a mistake. They were basically at breaking point with only Jonathan and Lonnie didn’t want to have to work even more when he had already fulfilled his side of the bargain. He married her and they had a kid. What more did they expect from him (or Lonnie pov)

Benny's also by Nymphadoragreenleaf Officer Powell grimaces “The trespasser… he’s- chief it’s your misses youngest- the one who went missing a few years back.” (or Hopper pov)

some more Hopper: it's me, hi (everybody agrees) by @livsindelusion or 5 Times Mike Gets The Shovel Talk and 1 Time It's Will

and some Joyce! can't hold out forever by scorchstorm five times that others noticed how mike felt + the one time that will did.

Have fun reading :)

#byler #byler fic #byler fic recs

106 notes · View notes

twin-azure-dragon-wave · 2 years

Text

SessRin in Volume 1 of the Yashahime Manga

The first volume of the official English release of the manga is out and Sesshomaru is in lurve

I know a lot of people consider the manga to be superior to the anime but until Shiina gives us a scene of Inuyasha laughing at and/or giving Sesshomaru hell for this, I will be reserving judgement on that

Look, I know I’ve already posted these exact panels several times at this point but I will never get tired of them

My babies are being romantic af. Having clandestine meetings alone in a dreamy sunlit forest.

“Rin grew into a beautiful woman”

Seriously, just a brilliantly simple repudiation to everyone who wants Rin to remain an eternal child and never ever be allowed to grow up. Meloncita is adult woman certified now and ready to make the most powerful daiyokai in the feudal era fall crazy in love with her

You get that Okugata-dono status, Rin-chan. You deserve it

And can we talk about the most important detail of all:

Sesshomaru’s hand

Caressing her face

*Dies*

Kaede 100% knew about the secret forest dates

Inuyasha, why are you just sitting there? Go make fun of your brother!

Even Kagome is inspired by how romantic Sesshomaru and Rin are being

Anyway, smash cut to babies

Congratulations, it’s twins!

Sesshomaru is pleased

(Sorry, but the MST3k fan in me refuses to hear Jaken’s line about “The Master” in anything but Torgo’s voice from Manos: The Hands of Fate)

I wonder what kind of gifts Sesshomaru sent? Knowing him, it was probably kimonos. Lots and lots of kimonos

You know Rin probably secretly wishes he would give her melons instead though. Like, she doesn’t have the heart to tell him but every time Sessh rolls up with a shiny new package she utters a tiny prayer to the gods of gourd and then its just. More. Kimonos.

Chapter 3:

Family Portrait Time!

God, Sesshomaru saying “our daughters” to Rin

Right in my feels. Right in my feels

Look at him, poor baby. He wants his waifu back so badly

Ken Narita said in an interview that Rin is Sesshomaru’s heart and since Rin has been sealed inside that tree Sesshomaru is just a man without his heart

(´∩｀。)

#sessrin #sesshomaru #rin #sesshomaru and rin #yashahime manga #hanyo no yashahime manga #takashi shiina #shiina takashi #sesshoumaru

284 notes · View notes

harryleatherfit · 1 year

Text

Upper East Side || AU || Frankie Morales

Chapter 4: Monologue

word count: 3275

warnings: parts of smut, angst? teacher student relationship (age gap)

please let me know if i’ve missed any- this hasn’t been proof read

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

——

You and Laylah have a night of your own, Hannah and Rose were out with their boyfriends and you could discuss the day together.

“Timothee Chalamet was in your fucking class and no one told me?” She yells. She's so cute when she gets upset.

“Trust me I was above my soul when I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. But what was even weirder, after class he asked to talk to me after the scene I did with Mattias, and he told me Mr. Morales brought me in.”

“What?”

“I don’t know it was the oddest thing, when Mr. Morales walked out of the class with Ms. Roylance it seemed like they’re tight, and TImothee slipped in that he was there because Mr. Morales said to come check me out. Like to see how good I was or whatever. I apparently have taken the department by its feet and he wouldn't stop talking about me.” You explain.

“Interesting.” She rubs her face. “What do you think that means coming from Mr Morales?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” You say.

“I mean he is really fucking hot, everyone looks at him, when we were in that auditorium every single person was wishing to be in his pants or be his pants.”

You look down and blush. Of course everyone wanted to be with him, he’s fucking perfect.

Laylah inhales in shock, “You like him don’t you?”

‘No no, trust I do not, he’s our professor at this school and that would be highly inappropriate.” You respond.

“Oh that’s bullshit, we’re all adults here, yeah he’s a lot older and people may think it's odd but to hell with it, I don’t think it’s weird, if people love each other they love each other.”

“Yeah but he’s a highly well known person and I’m just a senior at this acting school, it would look weird and so many people would talk, it make me look bad and he could lose his position and I’m probably so much younger than him I couldn’t be what he’s looking for, me even thinking about it makes me sound delusional.” You laugh. “I understand age is just a number, but I’ve barely dated.”

“Ok not slightly delusional, if he brought Timothee Chalamet in for you to check out your acting, he must have something on for you.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll say, in class and everytime I see him, he stares at me like a hungry man. I don’t mind. I'd have him look at me anyday, he boosts my confidence.” You reply honestly.

“Fuck I’d do the same for real.” She laughs. “If anything happens between you 2, you have to tell me it’ll fill my lonely love life, and I promise you I would never tell a soul. I bet his dick is fucking huge.”

“Laylah!” You laugh nudging her away.

“I’m saying the facts.”

She was, god you wondered, what the hell that man could do to a woman in bed. He’s Jesus in the flesh. You shuddered, what could he do to you?

“RIght now I don’t want to try anything too extravagant but I’ll try to give it some push and shove, see where it takes me who knows.” You lay on the couch in the common area.

Layla takes a second to think “I’m proud of you, you know. Ever since we’ve been here, we’ve both been happier, but this is the happiest I’ve seen you since I’ve met you.” She praises. “It’s been good for the both of us, you getting that job, you meeting Timothee, you getting frisky with Mr. Morales.” She goes on.

“Ok no getting frisky, that’s funny but thank you Laylah, you mean the world to me, you are the reason why I’m here and alive and still standing, and I’m fucking proud of you, I can’t belive you got Head of Makeup, do you understand how huge that it?”

Laylah had applied and sent in her application a couple weeks ago and she just found out today that she made it.

“I love you more than life.” She hugs you and you both tear up. “Getting Head of Makeup has made my semester, this’ll be amazing to put on my resume, the people I can fucking meet for working on Broaday.” She goes on. “I get to be the person who throws blood at Lady Mac and Mac.”

“Oh shit that’s dope as fuck L! Audition stuff was posted recently with all the monologues, but I don’t know which one to pick.” You say, scrolling through the material.

“Oh bitch, you do the iconic Lady M monologue, if you can master that scream and you read enough on Shakespeare, you could master your audition in no time. You need to go batshit in that audition” She reassures you.

“Want to do that now?” You ask.

“Oh hell yeah, I can practice my makeup on you and you practice that monologue, we’ll be ready for our auditions in no time. I took a class on Shakespeare, so I can help with your pacing if you want, Lady M is pretty fucking hard.”

You think on it, “Laylah, what if Mr. Morales is there for the audition? What if I mess up in front of him? What if he just views me as an object like any regular man?” You worry.

“See that’s the thing, he’s a man, what do you have to worry about?”

“Messing up everything for what could’ve been.” You look down.

“Then he’d be an asshole for everything and you would never have to be around him unless it was for a professional school reason.” She says.

“Ok we practice and we don’t worry about any stupid men.” You smile.

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

You were in your set building class. Your time to shine in front of Mr. Morales.

Now that you think about it, you’ve never had a full conversion with him, today that was going to change.

You wore a low waist long skirt with a white lacy tank top, paired with gold jewelry that complimented your skin. Today was about your comfort, but for Frankies eye.

You wanted his stare, you wanted him to look at your tattoos and have him imagine his golden skin all over your body. Tracing the people dancing on your hips, the lyrics, the sun on your chest. You physically craved him, his soft big fingers caressing your chest and kissing him so hard you couldn’t breathe. This crush was overtaking you.

It felt so wrong, but you couldn’t handle how you felt about him. He made you feel alive.

Today, he had your class start the building process for Macbeth, going over the different rooms, the lighting of the stage, the sound of it all. You were intrigued, it took your mind off of the acting process. You were starting to drill into wood to start on a plac for the half castle and you needed help. You were shaking trying to use the drill and you kept splitting wood.

Everyone could hear you grunting over the light music you were playing and you were outwardly pissed off.

You could get this done on your own, but damn was it fucking harder than you thought.

“Here let me help you.”

It was Mr. Morales, he’s been watching you this whole time.

“You get frustrated easily, I get it. Wood can be annoying, watch how I angle the drill.”

And by the tone of his voice, it was soft and not rough like a mansplainer, it was tranquil and could lull you to sleep. How he angles the drill huh?

He crouched down to your level and placed his hands on top of yours to apply pressure onto the wood. His hands were so big, then covered yours and them some.

Holy shit.

The vibration of the wood, his hands on top of yours and his cologne wafting into your nose almost made you faint. You were melting into him, and he knew it. You could immediately look into his eyes and move your face to kiss him, but people were there, watching you.

“There, see just the right amount of pressure and the screw will go in without splitting the wood.” He says.

“Thank you, if you didn’t do that I probably would’ve waisted 100$ more for wood.” You say to him as he stands up.

He holds his hand out for you, you take it and feel a pulse in your heart.

“Walk with me to get more wood.” He says that as a statement, not a question.

You follow him, quiet with butterflies.

“How was it at UNCSA?” He asks.

“It was fine, quiet mostly. I had grown up in Raleigh, so it made sense to go there. Pretty cheap for a decent art school in the country.” You give no more, no less.

“How were the professors?”

“Not too bad, the classes were easy, but I sometimes felt like I wasn’t challenged enough, that’s why I decided to spend my last year here. I figured if I got in I could push myself further than anywhere in North Carolina.” You explain.

You followed him into the wood shop, him handing you different pieces to carry, and waiting a second to finish your conversation. He was faced toward you now, setting down all his stuff leaning toward you.

“I worked on some projects in Raleigh, it’s pretty for what it's worth, better than Charlotte, its up and coming for film I’ve heard.”

“It’s a pretty lonely area though, the only thing you can do is drive to the beach or the mountains, walk around the 5 shops downtown or rot away at the lakes. Growing up there was simple, but boring. It’s better in the summer”

“I understand I grew up here, but I went back and forth from Spain sometimes.” He adds. “I kinda wished for a quieter childhood, but you want what you can’t have I guess.”

His pupils were so wide and dark, his Disneyland eyes were engulfing you. You couldn’t describe this feeling. Being alone with him and talking to him made you feel good.

“Wanting what you can’t have can make you go lengths you never imagined I think. It can change the chemistry in your brain, it can change relationships with the people you love, and it can make people think of you differently.” You say.

He looks at you and he takes a step toward you.

You breathe in. Is he going to kiss you? Was this conversation you were having to confirm both of your suspicions?

“Mr Morales? Do you know where the batteries are for the drills? They all are dying?” A kid in your class walks in and asks.

The moment was immediately killed, he stepped back, but your feeling was confirmed. You were about to kiss, but it gave you more time to think before you advanced anymore.

This made you feel like you were a freshman in highschool, waiting to see if the football player liked you back.

“Yeah Justin they’re in that back compartment I’ll follow you back in a second.” He calls back.

He turns toward you, “I suppose you’re auditioning for Lady Mac? You could stay back after class and I could critique what you have so far.”

He runs his hands through his hair and he’s making it sound like a statement then a question, there’s no working with this man. But there's no need, that’s more alone time with him. He’s raking you up and down and you could fucking pounce on him, crash your lips on his. But that would have to wait until you're secretly alone.

“I would like that, thank you Sir.”

---------------- +Frankie POV+

Sir, you fucking said sir. That made his ears tingle.

That made him not able to focus for the rest of class. He couldn’t build anything, Frankie had to tell all of his students the last 10 minutes they could do anything they pleased. He needed a moment to himself.

He was in the bathroom fucking his hand. Imagining you in there with him. Pulling down that flowy skirt of yours and getting on his knees to eat you out until you pulled his hair out. Did you wear that for him today? Did you put glitter all over your body just to attract his eyes? Did you want him to stare at how perfect you were? How the ink on your skin made you look like a goddess. He couldn't stand not being able to touch you.

The past couple weeks have been the worst for him. Ever since you showed up, he’s tried so hard to stay away from you, but every time he’s failed. He knew when you were in the same room with him. He knew your voice, her knew your fucking smell. Helping you with the drilling confirmed you smelled like sweet peonies. Your hands were so soft with his. He had to leave immediately for the bathroom after touching you. You have utterly ruined him.

But he has to realize who you are, and who he is. He can’t have you no matter how hard he defies himself. In the end he knows he will come back to his senses and leave you alone, but will that actually happen?

And the more he thinks about you, how soft your body would be against his, hot liquid is seeping out of his cock. He goes faster thinking about you on top of him, your hands on his chest, riding him until your eyes shut with ecstasy.

He thought of your tits in his hands, and he could pinch them and suck on the spot that would make you moan for his cock.

“Yeah that's right pretty girl, be loud for me. Tell me how I make you feel.”

Even if it was all in his head, he was cumming again a second time and he saw white flashes in his head. This has been the 5th day of having to release himself at the thought of you. In his home, in the university's staff bathroom. He thought about fucking you everywhere in this city, private or not, he wanted this city to hear the sweet moans that you could make, praise you in front of everyone. He would torture just to be with you.

He looks down at his watch and class is over.

Shit, he said after class you and him could go back onto the stage and he would critique your monologue.

He walks in, “Sorry I left, I had to go get some coffee, tonight will be a long night.” It’ll just be a long night for him thinking about you in his lonely house.

“I’d kill for an espresso right now, this is the time during the day I start to feel drowsy.” You laugh.

His mind won't stop racing thinking of how perfect you look, how easily he could take you backstage and kiss you. Play hooky for a week and run away together. You have to feel something for him, he thought.

In the woodshop you both were so close to touching lips before you were interrupted that can’t be a coincidence.

Ah, she's an actual coffee drinker. He took note.

“Ok I guess, just perform your monologue and I’ll sit here. Would you like me to critique you as you go?” He asks.

“That’s good, that’ll help me know what I’m doing wrong and I can immediately fix it for now.” She replies.

He sees your hands shaking, “You're nervous. There's nothing to be nervous about, it’s just me.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you being nervous made him nervous. He would feel whatever you felt.

“Yes it’s just you, and only you.” You glare at him.

You were going to be the death of him. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.

“Yet here’s a spot. Out damned spot: out I say.” You scream. You’re shaking your hands, pretending that there is King Duncan's blood on your hands.

You immediately snap into character, that’s what is true dedication. This is a practice run in front of him and you’re still doing it as a professional.

“One: two. Why then ‘tis time do’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeared? What we need to fear? Who knows it when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have though the old man to have had so much blood in him?”

You’re making yourself shake and shrivel as Lady Macbeth would do, you looked helpless and the life taken from your eyes.

You know how to capture the audience's eye, you know how to subside your nerves, you already know your character like she has been with you before. He was in awe watching you act on that stage.

“Here’s the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.” After that delivery of line, you drop to the floor holding your chest and scream as loud as your body could handle.

Why were you holding back in front of him?

“To bed, to bed: there’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done, cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.” Your mascara was ruined and your hands were pruny from sweating. You kept rubbing your hands with her last paragraph, trying to put emphasis on Lady Mac almost killing herself. Frankie watching you made you cry more, your body's response to being so scared.

“You didn’t give me any critiquing.” You say after finishing.

“You were holding back.” He says.

“How do you know?” You ask.

“I’ve seen you act, you wouldn't pull this.” He shot back.

“Well probably because I’m fucking nervous, Frankie. why would you care?” You glare at him, as his facial expression stays the same. You used his first name because this doesn’t feel related to him helping you with your monologue at all. This feels like you both are holding back.

Good, you were honest about him making you feel nervous.

“I care because you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to hold back in front of me.” He walks up close to you, your noses are about to touch. He was towering over you. You were hunching down trying to take in his face. “I care because I want you to be real with me, even when you’re on stage giving a performance. I want you to show me what you can actually do, not what you can do for everyone else.”

“But you’re the one who's my teacher.” You look up to him, it's breaking your heart. You can’t tell if he’s mad or being sincere. The look on his face made you want to wrap your hands around his face and bring his forehead to yours, becoming one. You both knew this was wrong, that's the obvious, but now was the chance to kiss.

“I know, but that’s why-” You don’t let him finish, and you pull out from his look. Walking off the stage and trying to let go of the almost kiss that never happened. If he was going to say no to you, you wouldn’t have been there to hear it.

---

He was going to ask you to go get a coffee. Talk about what you two were to each other. But now he’ll sulk in his apartment and call up the boys.

——

previous chapter || next chapter

au- i feel like this was rushed because i want to expand on frankie’s character more and his life and his relationships with the boys and how he views the reader and UGGHH so much to write and so much to plan! but it’ll all be planned and written with my crumpled thoughts into one :)

let me know what you think!

28 notes · View notes

adultswim2021 · 5 months

Text

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #76: “King Dead” | December 17, 1999 | S06E08

King Dead is not just the final “real” episode of Space Ghost that I’ll be covering (I WILL cover GameTap at a later date, which are fake episodes), it was also the final pre-Adult Swim episode of Space Ghost, and for what felt like a while this WAS the de-facto final episode of Space Ghost ever. I for one, was blissfully unaware that Space Ghost would ever resume production. There were no episodes of Coast to Coast produced in the year 2000, unless you count the alternate versions of “Snatch” and “Fire Ant”. I sure don’t, and you shouldn’t either.

Without being particularly piped in to Space Ghost ghost spaces I remember feeling dread that this could be it. What a dream to learn that Adult Swim was on the horizon, and with it a whole new season of Coast to Coast along with support from Space Ghost-esque quarter-hour absurdist programming. It seemed like a dream, like something to blog about, in fact.

This one has guest H. Jon Benjamin. It just so happens he’s in the very first scene of the very first official “Adult Swim Show”, Home Movies. And what a ferryman he is. He is very funny and charming as a Space Ghost guest, and he has one of my favorite moments in any episode, which is the part where Zorak and Moltar disguise him as a lamp, and you see him nervously chortle as the buffoon Space Ghost doesn’t suspect a thing. I wonder if he talked about Home Movies during his full interview, or if they filmed his interview far too early for that to have happened, or if Home Movies was already doomed or what. He does talk about Dr. Katz, and Space Ghost even morphs into him at one point. He did that before, I think in Brilliant. But, when god closes a door.

The plot of the episode is Space Ghost fires Zorak and Moltar, so they start a band and then take over Space Ghost’s apartment, and he gets pissed off about it. They produce a video tape to list their “Unreasonable Demands” Zorak’s line “I want a pet I can love, but don’t have to take care of!” is one of my favorite jokes. The fact that it resembles an action movie trailer is also hilarious, and the fact that they fail to actually list their demands (other than the pet thing, I guess) is simply wonderful.

Also wonderful: the weird part when Moltar just begins fading from existence for no reason, and briefly acknowledges it with a panicked “Woah, where’d I go?” and then fades back in. It’s such an obtuse gag. Could it be based on Clay just earnestly asking this as he tested his headphones in the booth, and they stuck it in there for fun and friendship? Maybe! That would be funny if true, right???!

Also, shamefully, I need to admit something: I never got the “--king dead” joke until maybe a few years ago. It’s Space Ghost saying that Zorak and Moltar will be “FUCking dead, and it’s just cut off at the beginning of the episode so he’s only saying “King Dead”. So subtle I didn’t even register it as a joke. Or, I’m stupid as fuck. Who’s to say?

Other stuff that’s good (I’m in the mood for this): Space Ghost ignoring the distress call placed by Zorak claiming to be a woman in danger (as part of a ruse to rile Space Ghost). Space Ghost believes it’s a woman, but resigns himself to her fate by bluntly stating “she’d be dead before I got there”. They draw him out instead by threatening his cable television, and Tad becomes incensed when he finds out Zorak and Moltar have his cable on but aren’t watching it, which Space Ghost thinks is “wasting” it.

Brak and Tansit take over for Zorak and Moltar respectively. Moltar shines in this episode; not only does he disappear, but he also has good ideas for band names and he yells at Brak that he ain't on Cartoon Planet. Way to put that bitch in his place. He will never be the star of a show ever again! Goddamn, this one has so much great shit in it. I left out like FIVE killer lines. Okay, one more: (sternly) “looks like your movie is going direct-to-video”.

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #space ghost coast to coast

6 notes · View notes

silversatoru · 3 years

Note

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest.

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique.

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and—

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”.

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into.

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day.

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way.

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine.

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting.

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”.

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away.

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on.

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass.

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?”

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?”

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”.

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass.

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here.

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years.

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask.

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together.

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much.

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed.

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”.

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments.

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed.

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric.

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours.

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long.

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp.

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”.

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?”

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts.

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask.

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin.

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next.

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?”

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”.

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now.

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips.

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response.

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath.

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard.

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance.

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now.

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name.

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire.

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt.

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now.

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon.

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”.

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky.

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”.

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body.

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel.

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins.

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears.

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again.

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you.

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”.

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”.

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”.

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsukaisen #gojo satoru smut #gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru smut #smut #smut and fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut

1K notes · View notes

forestlingincorporated · 3 years

Text

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

1K notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Sweet Little Love.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Lil Angst

Warnings: brief mention of violence

Requested: nope

Summary: The Y/L/Ns are a well-off family in New York, and are good friends with Sam Wilson. One day Y/N is threatened by a stalker and needs a bodyguard, so Sam suggests Bucky. Bucky doesn't want to do it; the last thing he wants is to deal with a spoiled, bratty rich girl for a whole month. The only thing is, Bucky has terribly misjudged her and now he can't help falling in love with her.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! the last scene is just a small bonus crack!scene sjsjsjs lmao, enjoy!

---

If there was one type of person Bucky liked, it was someone who was kind, polite, helpful and caring… and Bucky knew the person he was going to work for was going to be none of those things. "Sam, come on, man, I don't want to do this," Bucky groaned as he followed his best friend down the street. "I already promised, Bucky."

"Why did you?! I don't want to spend my whole day around spoiled little brats, they're the worst!" Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, number one: You have to look after only one person and number two: Why don't you just meet her once? Then you can decide for yourself, how about that?"

Bucky had been hired by one of Sam's friends, Mr Y/L/N, as a bodyguard for his daughter. He didn't know the daughter at all; but the one thing he was sure about was that she was going to be a pain in the ass for him, like in every single movie about rich girls and bodyguards. Mouthy, petty, sassy, rude…

He was in no mood to deal with someone like that.

Ms Y/L/N, he assumed, had been sent some threats over a week ago by a stalker and so the poor father was worried sick as he frantically searched for bodyguards. Sam was also informed and before he knew it, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was hired. To be honest, the Y/L/Ns were paying a lot so… since he had given up Avenging, the income would be great.

Plus, she only needed protection for around a month or so. Speaking of the daughter, how old was she even going to be? Maybe a child below 10? A rebellious teenager? Who knows? "Alright, stop here. She's supposed to be here somewhere, let me call Y/L/N." Bucky huffed and looked around the crowded streets as Sam contacted the father.

That's when his eyes landed on a lady. She was beautiful; wearing what looked like a tennis skirt and a university hoodie, along with sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a braid and she had a bright smile on her face. Bucky blinked twice and watched. Her body or clothes didn't catch his attention, but her actions sure did.

She was chatting with another, older woman who had coffee spilled all over her white tee. The young lady was holding a baby in her arms, bouncing the sweet child as the older woman hurriedly tried to clean her clothes. Through his super-soldier hearing, he caught their conversation. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this," the woman sighed.

"It's okay, ma'am, you are not a bother. You were clearly in need of help and you know how New York is…" Both women giggled. The older woman soon left with her child but the young lady continued standing there, looking around, as if waiting for someone. Probably a boyfriend, Bucky thought.

"Why is he not picking up?!"

Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam before looking over at the pretty lady again, who had started bouncing back and forth on her heels, glancing everywhere. That's when a loud wail echoed above the already busy street. The lady's eyes snapped towards the voice before she took off running towards a little boy who had tripped over.

The little kid was blond and scrawny, reminding Bucky of a little Steve. He smiled fondly at the memory. "Are you hurt, bubba?" Y/N asked the kid adoringly as she helped him stand. The boy's lower lip wobbled as he tried to hold his tears in but was unsuccessful. "Aw, come here…" Bucky gulped when the lady got on her knees and hugged the child.

She's so kind.

The kid hugged back just as eagerly, sobbing into her shoulder. Soon, two adults approached her; a gay couple, the parents of the kid. They, too, watched with appreciation as the lady easily calmed the kid down with her soothing presence. An involuntary smile bloomed on Bucky's face; if he was in that kid's position, he'd have stopped crying too. The lady was wonderful.

"Thank you so much, honey," one of the men grinned when the lady stood up, dusting her knees and giving the kid a smile. "Oh, it's not a problem! You know what?" She dug around in her purse and pulled out a lollipop. "I always have some on me. I'm a big fan. You?" The boy giggled and eagerly accepted the candy.

"Steve, what do you say?"

Bucky almost laughed. The kid's name was also Steve? Amazing! "Thank you!" Steve exclaimed with a bright smile, making the lady laugh. "No problem! Have a good day!" She waved at the family of three before returning to her original place, standing outside a café. Bucky was enamored at this point.

"Any luck?" he drawled, glancing at Sam who shook his head. "That dick," he grumbled under his breath and Bucky grinned, getting back to watching the pretty lady but she was nowhere to be found. He looked around until he saw her crossing the road, an old man holding her arm with one hand as the other held his walking cane.

She was on his side of the street now, just a few feet away from him. "You are an angel, darling," the old man crooned as he patted her cheek, letting go of her arm once he was safely on the other side. An angel indeed, Bucky smiled to himself. "Oh, sir, I try…" she spoke bashfully, turning in his direction as the man left.

Bucky quickly averted his gaze, he didn't want to look like a creep. "Sam? Sam, is that you? Wilson!" Bucky froze at the lady's voice, her footsteps nearing the place where he and Sam were standing. Wait, is that...? Sam looked away from his phone, eyes lighting up as they landed on the lady. "Y/N? When did you arrive?" Bucky watched as they hugged.

"Been here for a long time, dad said you were going to introduce me to my bodyguard today. He's a good friend of yours, right?" Sam turned and motioned towards Bucky. He stepped forward. "Hi, I'm James Barnes," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. He couldn't believe he had called this angel a spoiled, rich brat.

I'm never gonna forgive myself.

"James, nice to meet you! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Thanks for doing this, I'm probably going to be a burden—" He immediately shook his head. "Oh, no no no, don't say that! I can tell we're going to be good friends." He winked and she couldn't help but giggle. Bucky didn't even correct her on the name, something about the way she said it made a shiver run down his spine.

"Well, um, do we start now, or…?"

"Your choice," he interrupted, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat as he stared at her, heart swelling with affection. "I already feel safe," she half-joked, "Start now. I have a few places to go to…" He was ready to follow her to Hell and back. "Of course." Both of them turned to Sam, who had a knowing smirk on his face.

If it were anyone else Bucky would've given him his infamous glare but Y/N? He was hoping for a connection. "You two enjoy your date— I mean, day. Anyway, what's up with your dad, girl, he's not picking up my calls." Bucky rolled his eyes at the slip up. "He's not? Maybe he's in a meeting. If you want you can go visit."

"Gonna do just that, tell him that his precious little daughter is in safe hands." Y/N looked at Bucky with a huge smile. "No doubt about that! It's getting late, I'll see you later!" Y/N started walking away and Bucky immediately followed with a nod towards Sam. "Hey, um, I saw you, you know?" he blurted out.

"Saw me? Doing what?" Y/N blinked. "You helping the lady with the child, the kid who tripped over— Steve, his name was? And the old man you helped cross the street. I just wanna say that was amazing. You're a great person, Y/N, I'm honored to be your bodyguard." She gasped softly and looked away, chewing her bottom lip as she grinned, cheeks heating up.

"Oh, um, it's just— I like to help people. It's how my parents raised me. Yeah, we might be rich but I'm not spoiled. Lots of people think that when I tell them I'm Mr Y/L/N's daughter. It hurts sometimes, you know? People just assume anything about you without even knowing you. That's why I try to be good. I don't want to be a bad person," she rushed out, unconsciously voicing all her insecurities.

Bucky's heart sank in his chest as he let out a dry chuckle. "Ugh, just saying this is gonna make me throw up but I assumed that too. I thought I was gonna work with a spoiled, rich brat. I was horribly, horribly wrong, I hope you can forgive me, doll." She turned to him, but she wasn't mad in the slightest. She even started getting a tiny crush on him, I mean, hey, the man is eye-candy. "It's fine! I forgive you, you didn't know."

"No, it's not fine. I shouldn't have made assumptions, I feel like the biggest ass in the world," he scoffed, looking away from her. "James, please, it's okay. You know now, right? Don't feel bad! Why don't we stop for a coffee on the way?" How could he say no to that?

---

2 weeks passed. Y/N and Bucky became incredibly close friends; Bucky went as far as revealing the truth about himself, how he used to be an Avenger, how he lost his arm, everything. What he didn't expect was her to cry at his story. "You did not deserve to go through that, they did you so dirty…" she sniffled and he hugged her like his life depended on it. It kinda did.

God, if he didn't fall in love the first time they met, he was definitely in love now. "Doll, I'm here now, aren't I? All good— well, maybe not all good." And his face broke into the biggest grin ever when he heard a chuckle from her. "I'm glad you're here." Just those 4 words and Bucky vowed that he was never gonna let her go.

"I'm getting coffee, you wait here. Don't go anywhere else."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Y/N laughed and he smiled back as he entered the café. Y/N stood outside, typing away on her phone when someone suddenly grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her into the alley next to the café. She couldn't even scream, breathing was difficult with his hand around her neck.

"We finally meet, sweetheart." Oh, God, it was him. The stalker. Y/N whimpered, struggling to get out of his arms but he only tightened his hold on her. Bucky, Bucky please— Over time, Y/N had grown fond of Bucky. He still asked her to call him James, he said it felt good when she called him that. So she did.

He was so protective of her, almost like she was his girlfriend. He was also handsome; incredibly so, with his stormy blue eyes, his tall and broad figure and razor sharp jaw. His first priority was always her and it made her warm inside. She'd decided to ask him out at the end of the month, but it was looking a bit difficult now.

"Your bodyguard not with you today? What happened, lover's quarrel?" the man smirked tauntingly as Y/N's vision blurred due to lack of oxygen. She blinked back tears, crying again when he tightened his hold on her neck. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, no one's gonna hear it," he laughed.

"Try me."

The man's head whipped to the side only for Bucky's metal fist to connect with his jaw. He fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious at the first punch. Y/N slid down to her knees. Her hands went to her neck, coughing and dry heaving. "Doll? Doll, come here." Bucky felt immense guilt as he gathered her in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his car.

He left her alone. That was the one thing he wasn't supposed to do. "James…" Y/N wheezed, curling closer to him when he tried to put her in the backseat. "Doll, you have to get in," he insisted but she shook her head. "Not without you. Please." Bucky sighed and got into the backseat, holding Y/N against his chest.

She was pretty shaken up. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He felt himself tearing up. "No… not your fault… you… coffee… I wasn't… phone…" Bucky handed her a bottle of water when she wheezed again. "Drink up, baby," he whispered as he held the bottle to her lips because she refused to let go of his sweater. After drinking some water her throat felt better.

"Don't go, please, I need you," she sobbed as she completely curled against him, wetting his sweater as she cried in his arms. "You will always have me, doll. I'm not going anywhere. Not again," he assured her as he rubbed her back, wiping his own tears away. All of a sudden, she pulled away and pressed her lips to his. "I love you."

He pulled her in for another kiss, fireworks exploding in his head at the confession. Only two weeks had passed but they were both sure about their feelings. "I love you too, doll. You're mine now, only mine," he groaned against her lips. "Only yours," she agreed, burying her face back in his shoulder as he pulled her impossibly close.

"You're not getting out of my sight ever again."

And he kept his promise.

---

"And then I— where do you think you're going?" Sam blinked as Bucky abruptly stood up, eyes trained on his wife. She gave him a smile and walked out of the room, Bucky following her out like a puppy. "To the bathroom, Sam!" Y/N called out behind her and Sam turned to the parents, blinking in confusion as they roared with laughter.

"Why does she need him there?" Sam asked "Oh, haven't you heard? Bucky hasn't broken the promise he gave Y/N 6 years ago," Mrs Y/L/N explained vaguely. "What promise?" Mr Y/L/N laughed once more. "He told her she was never getting out of sight after the incident. And well…" Y/N and Bucky returned at the exact time as Sam made a face.

"Don't you get tired of him?" Sam groaned as Bucky sat down, pulling his wife on his lap. "Oh no no, it helps that she's as much in love with him as he is with her. They do not get tired of each other," Mrs Y/L/N shook her head with a fond smile. "It helps that he's handsome and aesthetically pleasing to look at," Y/N crooned, squishing her husband's cheeks as he laughed and swatted her hands away.

"Even in the bathroom?!"

"He stands outside as a guard," she shrugged. "Damn. Y'all are weird," Sam muttered, barely catching the book Bucky threw towards him. "Not weird. Just looking out for her, like I promised," he muttered, cheeks flushing. "You do know that the threat was 6 years ago, right? Six!" Sam threw his hands up.

"What if there's a new one?" Bucky countered exasperatedly. Sam only shook his head at the couple before a smile broke out on his face. "I've never seen a couple so in love. You two are cute," he commented as laughter filled the room. No more threats, no more danger.

Just a sweet little family and their sweet little love.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

562 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Actor AU 3

The previous one<-

Penny:*dancing on set*

Nora:Someone seems happy.

Penny:🎶First episode I don’t have to wear props! 🎶 This is so liberating!

Nora:You read the script right?

Penny:Just let me vibe!

xxxx

Neo:*hanging off ledge*

Cinder:.....Long live queen. *pushes her off*

Ruby:Yo! Let’s add a lion king character!

Director:No!

xxxx

Ironwood,Broadcasting:.....

Everyone:.....

Ironwood:*leans it closely* You have one hour...or I poison Gotham Harbor.

Yang:Pay up Weiss! I told you he’d say it!

Weiss:Damn it!

Ruby:*laughing hysterically.

xxxx

Adam:*sips tea* Now you’re probably wondering why I’m on set for V8 when I have not scene or relevance. The answer is simple.

Neo:*hits Yang of the edge*

Blake:Yaaaaang-

*faint laughing offset*

Blake.....*snickers* You asshole, I was in the zone!

Adam:I’m just adding to the tension!

Yang:*hanging from harness* You should’ve yelled “Lionized!!!!!”

Adam:Oh that would’ve been great!

Blake:You two are the worst!

xxxx

Right after Cinder stabs Penny

Jaune:Penny!!!! H-Hold on!

Penny:J-Jaune? I don’t...I don’t feel so g-good... hehe, this...*tearing up* this really hurts...

Jaune:*crying* Don’t speak! My semblance, I’ll...I

Penny:No...don’t. No time, but....there’s still something I need you t-to do. Cinder...can’t get the power and the relics. *reaches for blade*

Jaune:W-What?! No, I....I can’t-

Penny:It’s okay Jaune. *smiles* Everything is...gonna be okay.

Jaune:*raising bl-

Director:Cut!

Jaune:Huh?

Penny:Hmm? *sits up* Oh no, did I miss a line?

Director:*points to Cinder*

They turn to see Weiss comforting the the woman with a hug while trying not to laugh at the situation.

Penny:What happened!?

Weiss:She’s crying over the scene!

Penny:What!? *runs over*

Cinder:I am so sorry I ruined take! You were doing so well. Too well! Ugh, god damnit!

Penny:Awww you know I’m fine right? Come here! *hugs her*

Weiss:Cinder fall everyone, the biggest teddy bear around. *wipping eyes*

Jaune:You’re crying too!?

Weiss:I am the second biggest teddy bear around.

xxxx

Jaune:We have to go!!!

Winter:*points at Cinder*....Sleep with one eye open.

Director:Cut! Why!?

Cinder:Hahahaha!

Winter:I couldn’t help myself.

Director:Be angry!

Bloop!

Winter:*glares* The next time I see you I swear, I’ll have your head!

Director:Less angry!

Cinder:That one actually kinda scared me. Haha geez, Winter giving chills!

Bloop!

Winter:Can I curse?

Director:We’re already at the limit before we’d have change ratings.

Winter:Dang it! I just one F bomb!

Director:We’ll put it the gag reel.

Bloop!

Jaune:We need to go!

Winter: Tsk, *points sword* You are going to pay for everything you’ve done! So watch you fucking back...

Director:Happy?

Winter:*grinning* Yeah that felt great!

xxxxx

Bomb starts sliding slowly.

Qrow:*clenches Clover’s pin*

Bomb falls off plan set

.....

Vine and Elm:.....

Harriet:Well...boom! I guess!? For the love of- *face palms*

Qrow:....Uhhh I haha, I think hahaha- hahaha! Can we maybe tilt the plan a little less!? Oh boy! I guess someone should’ve grabbed that.

Harriet:You know what, can we keep this ending!?

Robyn: Rename the whole episode haha. “Adults watch bomb slowly fall”

Vine:Okay but I like how we’re all just waiting for it to stop, and then just tips right over! The moment it started moving I knew it was going way too fast!

Elm:Mission failed everyone. We’ll get em next time.

xxxxx

Interviewer:How do you think fans will react to this finale?

Penny:Well I can’t spoil anything for obvious reasons but I hope it resonates well. It’s fun having my character be around for a finale for once, and with so many other roles she doesn’t get interact with much. It’s been really fun.

Interviewer:Oh yeah? Who’s been best to work with?

Penny:Oooo that’s tough. My cousin, Nora, she’s been fun to interact with this volume. But uhhh I think I’ll give it to Jaune. We don’t have many scenes overall together but...it’s hard explain. I feel like between my character and his, there’s this kinda mutal headspace they have for their friends. If I had to pick a person I would say Jaune would have the ability to open up Penny in a way nobody else could.

Interviewing:Interesting, well I hope you both get more interactions and that this finale debuts well.

Penny:Thank you!

xxxxx

Winter:*dragging Ironwood off*

Emerald:....Wait, I know I do illusions, but how did the Ironwood not hear or feel the wind coming from an airship several feet away? I kicked up dirt and alerted Amber in volume 3.

Director:....Do we have time to rewri- no? Okay... just don’t think about it!

xxxxx

Nora:Someone cut the signal!

Watts: *playing Galaga* Hehehe all according to plan.

Neo:Change the tab! It’s- we see it in camera! Haha!

Watts:*strokes mustache* I know. That’s how genius I am. Cracking codes and high-scores! Muhahaha!

xxxx

Ruby:Fun fact, we have two Hound costumes. One where he’s mainly doglike and the other when he’s beating up people. But I you wonder who’s playing him under all that? *takes mask off*

Cardin:Sup.

Ruby:Forever a bully, even behind the set.

Cardin:Pfft am not.

Penny:You had a laugh tossing me!

Cardin:You don’t count, you’re family!

Penny:Ah!?

xxxxxx

Yang:*holding camera* Pssst!

Ren:*sipping coffee*???

Yang:Ready for our fight in the snow?

Ren:I can’t feel my toes! I’m gonna yell at you and then walk away.

Yang:I’ll mess up so we’ll stay here longer.

Ren:Yang! We can have a real fight in the snow right now!

Yang:Heheh, kidding. Mostly.

xxxxx

Ruby:Blake have you heard of Among Us?

Blake:Wh-what?

Ruby:Among Us. You gotta do tasks without an imposter killing you. I only bring it up because we’re rebooting the power. Someone always dies in electrical.

Blake:Ruby this is real life. Besides this way more Resident Evil, but with no- Tyrant!

Hound:*busts through window*

Ruby:Wny is it always electrical!!!?

xxxxx

Ironwood:*doing shirtless pull-ups*

Ozpin:He’s getting ready for his fight scenes. Trying to look winded but a little bulkier in the moment.

Winter:*watching Ironwood*

Ozpin:*snickering* Winter is trying to get into the mindset of having to a play a character who has to go against all that. The agony of fighting someone you looked at for so long.

Winter:You can call it like it is. I’m gawking a little.

Ozpin:She’s gawking a little.

xxxxx

Hazel:*grabs Salem*

Salem:*squeezing his biceps* Its like my entire torso. You eat a bear for breakfast?

Hazel:Oh my god.

Salem:You know this isn’t the worst way to go out. I had a good run. At least you hold me, unlike Ozma! Why didn’t you hold me like this!?

Hazel:You’re so ridiculous.

xxxxx

Set crew adjusting lighting in manor. All but one stays on.

Oscar and Penny:*waltzing underneath it*

Nora:...I like how on or off camera I personally lose the dating game while another redhead wins.

Ozpin:Which pair you talking about?

Nora:Huh?

Yang and Adam:*cracking jokes*

Nora:This is nonsense! Where’s Jaune!?

Weiss:Food run with Ruby.

Nora:Aaaaaggghhh!

455 notes · View notes

superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 3 Here!/ Playlist Here!

A/N: Maybe one last part after this?

Ko-Fi l Etsy l Commission Info Here

* You’re sitting on a bench outside, listening to Shoko and Nanami talk about something

* The breeze caresses your face

* It’s so quiet

* You haven’t experienced silence like this in years

* And there’s only one reason why you’re suddenly experiencing it now

* Your eyes stray from the dancing branches that hover above you to the dancing white-haired boy across the courtyard

* He’s talking to Geto about something, laughing as he does

* His sky blue eyes meet yours for a second, before abruptly looking away

* Not the usual flirtatious wink and wave he would normally give you

* You don’t know why, but it’s like Gojo’s lost every ounce of interest he had in you

* It looks like that prank you pulled on him is what did it-

* Apparently Geto had to help get the glass down

* He hasn’t tried speaking to you once since then, and every time your eyes meet he looks away just like he did a second ago

* What a baby, so he can dish it out but he can’t take it when someone uses his own tactics against him huh?

* It’s for the best really, you don’t want anything to do with him

* Besides if that moron just wanted someone who wasn’t going to react or get mad, then he should just date a sex doll

* It’s for the best, really

* So why are you so upset right now

* The prickle of irritation burns in your chest even when you turn away from the two boys, joining in on Shoko and Nanami’s conversation

* On the other side, Geto lets out a low whistle

* “Never thought I would see the day a lady killer like you would get embarrassed because you made eye contact with your crush” Geto grins when Gojo flushes a light pink.

* Geto almost wants to laugh, what happened to the womanizing-god-complex freak who was here just a second ago?

* “Don’t say lady-killer, you know I like men too, I’m an equal opportunity lover” Gojo gloats while running his fingers through his hair

* Ah, it looks like he’s on his bullshit again

* “You better watch out Geto, if you’re too much of tsundere I might fall for you next” the words are emphasized with a wink, and Geto can’t help but laugh

* “Whatever dude, don’t come crying to me when they start to hate you because you’re being flakey”

* Gojo laughs it off

* But late that night, while he’s lying in bed watching the shadows flicker on his ceiling he can’t help but wonder-

* What if you really do end up hating him?

* It’s not that he doesn’t want to be around you anymore or anything-

* He just doesn’t know how to approach you anymore now that he knows he’s in love with you

* “I’ve probably been in love for a while” he mumbles

* He’s not really sure when it started.

* At first it was just for shits and giggles

* Something to keep him entertained, and you just happened to be the most entertaining thing around

* So when did it stop being ‘anyone’s fine’ and start being ‘it’s only fine if it’s you’?

* He sighs turning to face the wall, he doesn’t understand his own feelings

* Yeah he’s got all this money and power and influence-

* But right now he’s just a boy in love for the first time

* And he doesn’t know how to handle that

* “I just don’t want them to hate me” he mumbles, feeling his eyes close shut

* He’ll try to talk to you tomorrow

* Even if it’s just a simple ‘good morning’

* At least it’ll be something

* But to his annoyance, he’s told he has to go save his classmates from a curse

* And then everything with the star vessel happens

* And he doesn’t see you for a while and he thinks-

* “Well maybe this is fine, maybe it’s better this way. They’re probably happy now that I’m not around always annoying them”

* And just as he’s thinking maybe this is for the best, that if someone leaves your life it probably means they weren’t supposed to be apart of it anyway -

* When you come barreling into his life again

* “Oi, Baka prince, where did sensei say this kid's house was again?” You ask, eyebrows threading together as you fidget with your phone

* Yaga-sensei sent you to accompany Gojo on his ‘mission’ to retrieve Megumi Fushiguro

* It looks like the only people who can reign Gojo in are you and Geto

* Not that you mind the impromptu mission, and besides- you don’t think Gojo is someone who should be alone around kids

* Gojo actually flinches when you speak to him, you’d traveled in silence so far, standing side by side without exchanging a word on the train.

* You sigh, you know he isn’t interested in you but the least he can do is be somewhat pleasant

* Even that usual annoying demeanor of his would be fine

* You’re not sure why but that prickle of irritation burns in you again, seeping through in the nickname you gave him

* Gojo doesn’t meet your eyes, those clear blue pupils are averted slightly as a pink blush singes his face

* “I’m not sure, I’ve just been following the cursed energy” he admits with an uncharacteristically shy gaze

* Okay WTF

* Gojo would never let the opportunity to tell you how weak you are for being unable to “even feel this amount of cursed energy”

* Who is this freak and what has he done to the real Gojo Satoru

* “Are you sick or something?” You ask

* Your hand’s already moving to cover his forehead, and you feel like somethings off

* Your eyebrows thread together as your peer closer, noticing a small gap where your hand and his forehead

* Ah right, the infinity he has around him

* You never realized it before but you wonder, can he ever feel anything?

* It must be lonely

* Gojo’s looking down at you, swallowing a lump in his throat.

* The expression on your face looks so tender, and you’re so close he can smell your scent

* And he feels a sudden urge to cry, to bury his face in your shoulder and weep like a child

* He’s watching you open your mouth, you’re about to say something-

* When you both feel a large burst of cursed energy

* Your heads snap to the direction you sense it from only to see a small boy

* You recognize him as Megumi Fushiguro, your target for this so-called ‘mission’

* He’s younger than you expected, he can’t be older than 10

* You turn to Gojo, you’re going to need a plan, someone that young is awfully impressionable. You have to do this with some tact

* But when you turn to look he’s gone

* “Huh?”

* You can practically see the outline of his form where he was standing just a second ago, your neck creaking as you turn to where Megumi-Kun is standing

* “Your father sold you to the Zenin Clan”

* You might appear calm and collected on the outside, but I promise you your soul has ascended to the fourth dimension where you are just screaming into the void

* “Well does it make you mad? Does it-“ Gojo’s waggling his fingers like a god damn perv when you basically apparate to his side and bring your fist down on his head

* “Oi, Baka prince what the hell do you think you’re doing?!?”

* Gojo’s stumbles back, nursing the emotional wound you just gave him and you crouch down

* “Don’t listen to anything that moronic man just told you, he’s got no tact” you tell the boy

* He’s a cutie, like the male version of Snow White.

* Though his expression tells you he’s about had it with this reality

* “Yeah I can see that”

* “Well he might act like a moron, but he’s got a pretty decent heart”

* You spell out the situation to Megumi as tactfully as you can, opting to treat him like an adult.

* “These are your options as I see them, you can go to the Zenin clan, or, that Baka prince already stopped the sale in return for you promising to join our academy”

* You and Megumi get along pretty well, you’re kindred souls

* Besides you both seem to be able to see right through Gojo’s princely appearance

* “Why did you guys leave me behind?” Gojo shrieks, Megumi’s hand is in your own, both of your free hands holding ice cream cones

* Megumi immediately makes a face, it had been so quiet while he was gone too

* You can’t help but sympathize with the kid, you used to feel that way before you got to know Gojo too

* You were just showing Megumi around the campus, helping him get familiar, and you thought you should reward him a little with a treat for being such a good kid

* Besides you like him

* Of course Gojo wanted to tag along, teasing Megumi half of the time like a damn idiot and spending the other half of the time giving flirtatious winks to women who seemed interested in him.

* Gojo’s making a scene and Megumi looks like he’s a second from throwing a tantrum too

* You sigh, you don’t get paid enough for having to deal with these two children

* “Here” when Gojo looks up, bright blue eyes peering over his black glasses he sees a scoop full of his favorite ice cream balancing on top of a chocolate-dipped waffle cone

* “But what about you?” He asks and the questions catches you off guard, since when has Gojo cared about anyone but himself?

* “I don’t want any, I just thought it would be good to get in line while we waited.”

* You didn’t think you would actually get to the front of the line before he caught up though.

* “No! You waited in line that whole time, here we can take share, take the first bite”

* You’ve kept your cool in front of Gojo for years but something about the expectant expression he’s giving you - the tops of his cheeks bright pink- and those bright blue eyes looking at you while holding out the ice cream cone that makes you flustered

* You can feel your face grow warm, geez what’s gotten into him

* To make matters worse you’re having a hard time saying no to him right now

* Something about those crystal blue eyes has you almost mesmerized

* And then Megumi stands up on the bench and takes a giant bite from the cone

* Cue Gojo screaming and crying because, goddammit he was this close to an indirect kiss with you-

* “Why did you do that?” He shrieks, he’s crouched on the ground, face bright red in anger and anguish

* “I don’t know, the green tea ice cream looked good” Megumi shrugs, only for Gojo to start shrieking again

* Gojo and Megumi are about a second from a fistfight when they hear laughter

* The gentle twinkling gets louder and they both instinctively turn towards it

* You’re laughing so hard you’re clutching your stomach, tears forming at the corners of your eyes

* “Geez you guys are like something out of a cartoon.” You manage to say in between laughs

* Megumi’s eyes widen

* He’s seen you smile before, but he’s never seen you laugh like that

* Megumi wonders what he’s thinking right bow

* His eyes trail to Gojo

* Gojo looks at you like you just hung the moon

* Like he’s a child seeing fireworks for the first time

* Megumi will never forget the look on Gojo’s face for as long as he lives

* ‘So that’s what it looks like when you love someone’ Megumi thinks

* Gojo pats Megumi on the head

* “Thanks kid, because of you I got to see something nice”

* You guys grow a lot closer because of Megumi, becoming sort of surrogate older siblings to him and Tsumiki

* “Why did you bring a Kotatsu?” You and Megumi are standing in the doorway holding takeout and oranges

* “Winter time just doesn’t feel right without a Kotatsu, isn’t that right Tsumiki-Chan?”

* The young girl grins as she nods, snuggling deeper into the blanket

* You and Megumi give each other an incredulous look

* Leave it to a little rich boy like Gojo Satoru to buy a Kotatsu for a casual hang out just because it’s winter

* Still-

* You watch as Megumi and Tsumiki cuddle under the Kotatsu, peeling oranges

* The kids seem to be enjoying it

* Gojo pats the spot next to him

* “I saved you a spot (Y/N/N), I promise I won’t bite” but Gojo’s giving you that same teasing grin he always used to give you

* Looks like things are back to normal

* You sigh taking a seat beside him, stealing your resolve as you put up with his incessant teasing

* Everything is back to the way it was...so why do you still feel that prickle in your stomach every time he looks at you?

* And the following weeks that familiar sensation makes appearances several times, leaving you more confused each time

* It’s not until you’re walking in Shibuya, one of your hands holding Megumi’s and the other one holding a Taiyaki full of ice cream that you realize

* “Gojoooooo” the woman in front of you whines “you’re so mean, I can’t believe you didn’t call me, because I know you had a good time”

* The woman’s pouty expression turns wolffish in a second

* Ah, so that’s where he learned to smile like that

* You and Megumi are mostly just enjoying the show, eating your ice cream and watching as Satoru tries to placate this woman

* “I’ve just been taking some time to better myself-“

* You snort, yeah you’re sure he’s been bettering himself with his dozen other lovers

* Honestly serves him right for fooling around with so many people. You’re surprised he’s not habitually in the infirmary for a new STD

* “You see, I’m a father now”

* You sputter choking on your ice cream. Megumi pats your back

* That idiot prince has really gone and done it now-

* Having an illegitimate child,

* Yaga-Sensei is going to kill him

* Not to mention what his clan might do

* Gojo looks back at you with warm eyes

* And you feel that pricking feeling again

* “Megumi is my pride and joy”

* Huh?

* Oh

* OHHHHH

* So that’s his game.

* What a sleaze bag using someone else’s kid as an excuse to get out of an uncomfortable romantic encounter

* Megumi squeezes your hand and you look down

* The look on his face could kill a man

* “I’d never call a pervert like you my Father”

* So Megumi woke up and chose violence today-

* You figure Gojo will laugh and cover it up with some jokes like ‘kids these days no respect for their elders’ or something

* But when you look at Gojo he looks genuinely hurt, those vibrant blue eyes look watery, and that pretty mouth that’s always curled in a grin is curved into a soft frown.

* And before you know what you’re doing you say-

* “Megumi-Chan you shouldn’t be so mean to your Father, he let you have ice cream before dinner didn’t he?”

* .

* ...

* .....

* WHY DID YOU JUST SAY THAT

* Megumi and Gojo are both looking at you with vacant stares

* Megumi is still in shock that you took Gojo’s side in this

* But Gojo’s looking right at you, cheeks holding a rosy tinge

* And then something amazing happens

* Gojo smiles at you-

* Not that wolfish smile he’s been showing you for years as he teases you, or that princely smile he uses to get something he wants

* It’s a genuine smile

* And you can’t help but think he doesn’t look at all like the most powerful sorcerer, he just looks like a boy

* Ah, there’s that painful prickle again

* “I love my family so won’t see you anymore, go ahead and delete my contact information,” Gojo says with a grin

* He walks over to you in long strides, hoisting Megumi up and carrying him all while the woman shouts obscenities

* “Come on (Y/N/N), let’s go home,” he says, his hand moving to hold your own

* And all you can do is let him tug you forward

* Your gaze lingers on your intertwined hands, the heat that radiates from his palm even though there’s an infinity between you both

* Your eyes trail up to look at his broad back, the way he holds Megumi so easily even though he’s pulling on Gojo’s hair

* The prickle intensifies as you watch them

* ‘He would make a good Dad his spouse will be lucky’ you think

* And then it hits you

* Oh

* Oh no

* Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no

* You’re in love with Gojo Satoru

* The f*ckboy extraordinaire

* F*ck

* How did this even happen? You had been so careful, you were even apart of that down with Gojo Satoru club with Nanami and Geto

* Are they going to revoke your membership now?

* F*********ck

* “Hurry up and put me down you pervert!” Megumi shouts, a fistful of Gojo’s white hair in his hand

* “Ora Ora, you shouldn’t be mean to papa like that Megumi-Chan” Gojo teases, not even the slightest bit fazed

* Megumi’s only grabbing onto the infinity around his hair after all, so it probably doesn’t hurt

* “Here Megumi,” you abandon your ice cream without a thought, carefully lifting him out of Gojo’s hold and onto the ground

* Megumi doesn’t say anything, he only holds your hand in his

* “Hold Papa’s hand too Megumi-Chan otherwise I’ll feel lonely” Gojo teases, but you can tell he really does want Megumi to hold his hand

* “If it’ll get you to shut up” Megumi grumbles, but he reached up, taking Gojo’s hand in his

* The three of you probably look like a family, and this time the prickling feels warm, like a tickle across your stomach

* Like butterflies

* F********************ck

* “For F*cks sake, how am I going to get out of this one” you mumble to yourself

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu icons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru headcanon #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru jjk #satoru gojo

535 notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Favorites

You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

414 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now.

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity.

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention.

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure.

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still.

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them.

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.”

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle.

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

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

OK. This was way too fun to write.

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#all men have limits #AMHL bonus content #make a scene extension #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #jason todd and platonic!reader #jason todd x platonic!reader #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #bruce wayne and reader

272 notes · View notes

sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

A Cruel Joke

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You find solace in the arms of a hurting FBI agent after she comes to investigate the death of your best friend.

Category: Angst, implied smut.

Warnings: 15 year age gap between adults (37/22)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: If you don’t like the name Alexa, I’m sorry, just try to imagine that it’s a different name.

A lesbian and a bisexual walk up to a crime scene. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but this situation was very real, and very unfunny.

You’d had a bad feeling. That should have been enough to get you to stay with her, you’re best friend, but you didn’t. You had been selfish.

And now she was dead.

Alexa was dead.

And it was your fault.

Had you just pulled yourself together and been there for her as a friend, stopped worrying about how you felt, she wouldn’t have walked back to your campus apartment from that party alone, and she wouldn’t have been vulnerable to the monster that took her and he wouldn’t have…

But he did, and now you were numbly walking down the sidewalk that led behind the sorority house you’d been partying at and to the local park, not even registering anything that was happening around you.

You’d heard the news before you could even press send on a text making sure she was okay. You’d heard the news, but you had to confirm for yourself. She couldn’t be dead, she just couldn’t be. You saw her only last night, not even six hours ago.

Despite officers and other important people yelling at you to get back, you just kept walking towards the crime scene, taped off with that awful yellow color.

Just as you were about to duck under the tape, approach the group of suits standing with their backs to you in a half circle, you felt a hand on your shoulder, a presence appearing in front of you.

“Miss, I’m sorry but you can’t be here.” It was a delicate voice, belonging to a woman.

“I have to know if it’s her. I just saw her, it can’t be her, I have to know if it’s her,” you mumbled in a panic, still trying to get a glimpse of what was sprawled on the ground in front of the officers. You realized they were staring at you now, but you couldn’t look away. You had to know.

“Miss, please, you shouldn’t be here,” the woman repeated. Her hand was still on your shoulder, and you finally looked her in the eyes, took in her face. Her features were gentle yet strong, and there was something striking about the contrast between her dark hair, fair skin, and pink lips.

You were trembling, something she could feel against her fingertips, and the water brimming in your eyes was enough to let her know how much you cared, probably more than anyone around.

She quickly glanced back at the other men behind her, and the tallest one nodded. With her hand still on your shoulder, she escorted you away from the scene, and away from prying eyes to a secluded park bench.

“Would you like to take a seat?” she asked.

All you could do was nod. Nothing felt real. Her voice sounded like it was reaching your ears by an old, fuzzy radio set up 10 feet away from you. This can’t be happening.

You plopped down on the bench with much less grace than the woman before you, who introduced herself as Agent Prentiss. “But you can call me Emily,” she’d said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you whispered. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you asked, “Is it her? Is it Alexa?”

Emily dodged your question with another question. “Who’s Alexa?” You later realized why she didn’t ask you how you knew her. She didn’t ask because she’d have to ask ‘how did you know her’ and not ‘how do you know her,’ something that surely would have set you off.

“She… she’s my b-best friend,” you mumbled around the lump in your throat.

“You mentioned that you just saw her. When was that?”

“Last night. We decided to crash the party with some of our friends who are actually in the sorority,” you explained meekly. “Please, Emily. Would you please tell me if it’s her? I have to know.”

Emily sighed and gave you a sad look, which was really all you needed, but hearing the words made it final. “Yes. We found identification on her with the name Alexa Stephens. I’m so sorry.”

Your whole heart shattered. You cared about her more than any of her other friends, and you sometimes wondered if you cared about her more than her family. She had a rough childhood and couldn’t stand to be in the same state as them anymore, which is why she transferred halfway through her freshman year. You immediately connected with her and you’d been friends ever since.

Your mind was racing, thinking of all the questions you needed answered, all the things you could have done differently to keep her alive. If you would have just been there…

“It’s not your fault,” the angelic voice broke through the static in your head, as if she could hear your thoughts.

“It is,” you whimpered, “If I had just pulled myself together, we would have walked home together, and she wouldn’t have been alone. Oh god, she died alone.”

“You did nothing wrong. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have. I’m sure you did what you thought was best in the moment.” It didn’t make you feel a whole lot better, but you grasped onto her words in an attempt to calm yourself down. You knew there was still more information she probably needed from you. You took some deep breaths, closing your eyes. A warmth spread its way through your palms, and you realized that the agent had put her hands in yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. You held onto them like an anchor point. “Can I ask you a few more questions, or would you like to take a break?”

In through your nose, out through your mouth. You opened your eyes and nodded. “I want to help in whatever way I can.”

Emily continued to ask you questions about your night and if you remembered anyone suspicious. She asked if there was anyone who was staring at her, to which you told her that would be half the people at the party. Alexa usually had a steady stream of boys coming and going, some she dated and some she didn’t.

You never really understood that. You barely liked one person, let alone multiple back to back or at the same time. But Alexa just had this appeal to her, and while some would disagree with you, you thought she had a big heart. A big, blind heart.

“Thank you so much for your time. Give me a call if you remember anything else, anything at all,” Emily said, handing you her business card, “and I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. I will,” you answered dryly.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up feeling out of sorts. You’d dreamt of her last night. Well, you’d dreamt of them. You saw Alexa laughing, and then you saw her sprawled on the ground, an image your mind had created all by itself, and then you saw Emily. Felt her soothing hand on your shoulder, her warm palms encasing yours.

Then you woke up. The whole thing made you feel weird and sad and tired.

You picked up the business card Emily had given you, twirling it in your hand. You hadn’t remembered anything new, but you felt safe around her. Noticed, important, like you mattered. You realized just how much you were lacking that from Alexa, from your other friends.

Simply calling her wouldn’t do, though. You wanted to see the woman that for once in your life made you feel like you didn’t have to pretend you were okay. She knew you had lost someone close to you, and didn’t expect you to keep it together.

What were you saying? You put the card down, remembering that you’d only spoken to her for all of 30 minutes and she was just doing her job. Nothing more, nothing less. You also had the wherewithal to know that you were probably only grasping at any minute display of affection since you’d just lost the one person you so desperately wanted it from but could never get it. It made you feel pathetic and angry.

God you were also just so tired.

Classes were not going to happen, so you just laid back down, hoping to be swept into another dream.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

A knock at the door woke you up. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you didn’t really care as you walked to the door.

Without looking through the peephole, you eked the door open. Emily was standing there along with another agent you’d seen at the crime scene.

“Hello. Y/N, right?” the blond asked. You nodded. “My name is Jennifer Jareau, and I believe you’ve met Emily.”

Emily smiled at you and you forced a small smile back. “What can I do for you?”

You invited them in and they asked you a few more questions. However, you were only half paying attention to what they were saying, and more paying attention to the way the two women were interacting. You’d sensed a tension the minute they walked in, but it seemed to be one sided. You figured it out by about the eighth time Emily glanced over at Jennifer. You recognized the look in her eyes: a mixture of love and hurt. You’d seen it too many times in the mirror not to pick up on it. But what really caught your eye was how many times Emily’s gaze traveled down to Jennifer’s hands. Specifically her left one with a shiny diamond on it. One look at Emily’s hand, and well, it wasn’t too difficult to put the rest together.

“Thank you again for your time,” Jennifer said, shaking your hand. Emily was slower to move, making eye contact with the other agent, some message you were not privy to passing between them. Jennifer gave you a tight lipped smile and left, but Emily stayed.

“I wanted to give you this,” Emily explained, holding out her hand. There was a small necklace in it, one you recognized immediately. “She was still wearing it and I thought you might want it back.”

You took it out of her hand, admiring the small heart pendant that dangled at the end. You’d bought it for Alexa for her 21st birthday. Her last birthday. “Thank you so much,” you said as you started to tear up. Just when you thought you’d cried yourself dry.

“Of course.” You thought Emily was going to leave after that, but she lingered a moment longer. You looked up at her, and she bit her lip, probably trying to decide if she should ask her next question or not. “She wasn’t your best friend, was she?”

You gave a weak smile, dropping eye contact. “That depends. Are you asking her or me?”

“I’m asking you.”

“No, she wasn’t. She meant more to me than that. But I never meant more to her. I sometimes wondered if I even meant that much to her,” your voice wavered.

“I’m sure you did,” Emily tried to reassure, but you weren’t buying it.

“Hope so,” you muttered. Looking back up at Emily, you held her eyes this time. “What about you and Jennifer?”

Her response was immediate. “What?” She sounded shocked, but you could tell she was trying to play it off.

You offered a single laugh. “I may not be a genius FBI analyst or profiler or whatever, but I know a hurting gay when I see one.”

Her mouth was still open, like she was going to try to come up with an excuse, but instead she just sighed. “That obvious?”

“Clearly not to Jennifer.” You shrugged. “Looks like I’m not the only one to lose someone recently.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Emily shook her head.

“You don’t need to downplay your pain,” you told her. “I know how bad that hurts. Why do you think I left that party early?”

A look of understanding flashed through her eyes. “A constant stream of guys…” Emily quoted your from earlier.

“Yeah,” you shrugged again. “Sometimes it’s just too hard to watch. Sometimes it’s just too hard to listen. When she’d come back to me crying over a break up when I was sitting right there… it’s painful. And that night I just couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t watch her waste her time on another guy who was going to hurt her. So I left. Look where that got me,” you mumbled the last part.

Emily gave a sad, bitter laugh. “She asked me to be her maid of honor.”

You sighed with her. “I’m sorry.” You had barely noticed the tear that escaped her eye before she forcefully brushed it away.

Something changed in her demeanor when she realized a tear had escaped, speaking faster as she headed towards the door. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. You already have a lot on your plate, and I don’t need to be unloading my personal issues on you. Again, I’m sorry, I will make sure-”

“Emily,” you cut her off, grabbing her arm and turning her towards you as she was about to reach for the doorknob. You weren’t sure what you’d been planning on doing once you stopped her, and the first thing you thought to do was hug her. You pulled her in close and wrapped your arms around her. She seemed shocked, but put her arms around you like it was the most natural thing in the world for the two of you to be doing.

You don’t know how long you stood there, but you would’ve stayed there forever if you could. The warmth and safety of her arms was something you’d never really experienced before.

When she pulled back from your embrace, you realized you’d both been silently crying. Her fingers traveled over your jaw, and her thumbs brushed away your tears. Your faces were only inches apart, but something in the back of your head told you that it wasn’t the right time.

Instead, you leaned forward and kissed away her tears, pressing your lips to her cheekbones. You felt her eyelashes on your face, a feeling you tried to commit to memory. A feeling you never got to experience with Alexa. One you never would.

“Y/N,” she whispered. You heard everything in the way she said your name, a warning that no matter how badly the two of you wanted this right now, it wasn’t a good decision.

“I know,” you whispered back, resting your forehead on hers, “Just please. Please let me live in my head for a little while longer.”

You stood there for a few more moments, her hands cupping your face and your hands on her back before she completely pulled away. “I will make sure we do everything we can to find the man who did this.”

“I know,” you repeated. “Thank you, Emily.”

She offered another small smile, but this time it felt a bit more sincere. With that, she left to continue fighting the monster that had ripped the earth out from under you.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Three more days and another victim later, the case was closed. Emily and her team had caught the bastard, putting him away for good.

You felt like you owed it to her, to the whole team, to go down to the local station they were set up in and thank them.

The moment you walked in, Emily spotted you. She put down whatever pictures and maps were in her hand, and rushed over to you. Without exchanging a word you embraced, similarly to how you’d done a few days ago, although much shorter this time as you were in public.

“We got him.” Her voice was assured and her lips curved in just the smallest way as she studied your face.

“I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough,” you told her. You looked over her shoulder to the conference room she’d just abandoned, catching the majority of the other members looking your way. “Is that your team?”

Emily turned around to follow your gaze, most of the others looking away as she did so. “Um, yes. That is them.” You couldn’t exactly figure out what subtle meaning was in her tone of voice, but ultimately chose to ignore it.

“Can I… um, well, can I talk to them? I want to thank them,” you quickly explained. Emily turned around to give you a shy smile.

“Sure,” she agreed, heading towards the conference room. You figured that was your cue to follow her, so you did, trialing close behind her.

She pushed open the doors and introduced you. Of course, they all knew who you were as you’d been a mess when you showed up on their crime scene, and had apparently been a ‘big help’, which the tallest man with a stern face, told you.

“Oh, I didn’t really do anything,” you waved him off. “You did all the hard work, which I wanted to thank you all for. It means a lot that you were here and able to close this case. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” a tall, strong-built man replied. “Happy that we could help.”

“But a lot of the credit should go to Emily,” a thin man with curly hair stated, a small smirk on his face, “She really did most of the work.”

Emily opened her mouth to protest as she gave both men a dangerous side eye, to which all they did was fail to suppress a smile. You stopped her before she could refute, “Well, thank you.” The message was broad, directed towards everyone, but your eyes lingered on Emily.

She gave you a single nod, and you quickly glanced around the room at the agents that helped get justice for Alexa before heading out the door. You looked back at Emily before you left, her eyes following you out while the two tall men behind her were passing knowing looks. You caught a glimpse of the blonde agent staring at the whole interaction, then biting her lip and looking away. You looked back towards Emily and the two male agents, the bald one shaking his head in what you could only guess was amusement, something you felt a little flattered about. Again, you weren’t a profiler, but you could read the classic signs of friends teasing friends over something like a crush. You hoped your brain wasn’t too foggy from the whirlwind that your life had become to mistake those signs for something they weren’t.

You were just getting into your car and pulling the driver’s side door shut when the passenger side swung open. Emily plopped down in the passenger seat of your car, quickly shutting the door. Surprised to see her, you just sat there like a fool looking at her.

She glanced over at you, biting her lip, a little bit of mischief in her eyes. “Are you going to drive or should I?”

In response, you finished shutting your door and started the car. “What took you so long?” you teased. “Was it Jennifer?”

“Let’s not talk about Jennifer,” Emily responded, a level of conviction in her voice you hadn’t heard yet.

“No, let’s not,” you agreed. Let’s not talk at all. You leaned across the console, bringing her face to yours with a hand on her cheek. She kissed you back, deeply. Oh what it was like to kiss someone you had feelings for, and not only kiss them, but have them kiss you back. You hadn’t realized just how starved you’d been of this feeling.

You pulled back first, needing to get some air back in your lungs. You plopped back down in your chair a little dazed.

Emily wetted her lips. “I know you wanted to do that before. Why’d you wait?”

“I waited to help you. To help get justice for Alexa,” you briefly explained, pulling out of the parking lot. “I know how important it is to have a clear head.”

“And now?”

“The investigation is over, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Emily confirmed.

“Then I am done waiting. That was the biggest mistake I ever made with her. I waited to tell her until she… until it was too late. I’m never going to do that again. Never.” It was a promise you intended on keeping.

“I did the same thing,” Emily shared, her voice getting quieter.

“I know. So let’s both just agree to be honest and forward with what we want,” you suggested.

“And what is it that you want?”

“You,” you confessed.

The drive from the precinct to your apartment was short, and you were there within the next couple minutes or so.

Taking Emily’s hand, you led her up the stairs and through the door of your apartment. The moment you shut and locked it, Emily was there, pulling you close and kissing you with much more passion than she had before. You pushed off her blazer and started frantically working on the buttons of her dress shirt. You had to part for a moment, just long enough for her to pull your shirt over your head. You were going in to kiss her again, when she stopped you.

“Woah, woah,” she whispered. “Slow down. I want to savor every last moment of this.”

Her eyes tore down your figure, fingers brushing over your collar bones, down around the swell of your breasts and over your stomach. When they reached the top of your jeans, she looked up at you. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to be pushing you to do something you’re not ready for yet. I don’t want you waking up regretting this because you still haven’t taken the time you need to grieve Alexa.”

“Let’s not talk about Alexa,” you copied what Emily had said about Jennifer earlier. “I want to be here with you. Will you let me be here with you?”

She slowly nodded, and the moment she did, you put your lips back on hers. They were soft, just a bit swollen, and she swiped her tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave it to her without question, and did you best to resume the work on her dress shirt buttons. Your tongues tangoed as you finally got her shirt off her.

As you led her to your room, you were thankful you didn’t have to pass Alexa’s, and even though no one else lived in your apartment anymore, you shut the door out of habit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up just before the early morning sun, drinking in the sight of the sleeping woman next to you. Your legs were tangled in the sheets, arms wrapped around each other.

Even though you’d had the entire night to admire her body, you couldn’t keep yourself from looking over her in awe. The way her face looked so at peace when she was sleeping and the way her dark hair messily fanned around her head made her look too perfect to be real. Everything that happened must’ve been a figment of your imagination, and the little solace you found in her felt like it was going to evaporate with your dreams.

And in a way, it was.

Once she woke up, she’d fly back across the country and go back to working her job like she’d never even met you. Maybe she hooked up with girls all over the country. She didn’t really strike you as that type, but you didn’t really know her.

The universe was playing a cruel joke on you. When you had the chance to spend years with the girl you were in love with, you didn’t have the guts to tell her how you felt, and now that you did, you only had a day or so with her. But in the end, both would leave. Both would be out of your life forever.

You’d been so caught up in these thoughts that you hadn’t noticed Emily peek her eyes open. The sun had just started shining through the blinds, and she squinted against the light. She was also able to see the wet streaks glinting against your skin.

That jolted her awake, sitting up on her elbow. “Hey,” she soothed, cupping your face, “What’s going on?”

You placed your hand on top of hers and wiped at your tears with the other. “You’re perfect,” you told her, voice barely above a whisper, “And you’re leaving. Everyone leaves.”

Instead of responding, Emily tucked you under her arm and held you while your wept. She whispered sweet nothings into your hair and cradled the back of your head. You held onto her like she was the only thing keeping you together, keeping the withering pieces you called yourself from crumbling completely.

But, as you’d said, at some point she’d have to go. She’d have to pick up her things and head back to her life. You were going to have to figure out how to manage on your own.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you apologized to her. She told you that she was there for you, and that you’d always have her number, which helped you feel a little better. Just as she was finishing putting on her clothes and heading toward the door, you said, “You know it’s not too late to tell Jennifer your feelings, right?” Emily gave you a sad look, one that told you it was too late, but you persisted. “She’s only engaged, and engagements can be broken. I saw the way she looked at you yesterday.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said she was oblivious?” Emily countered.

“True, but I was paying a lot more attention to you that day,” you informed her, which made her lips turn up. “But I’m talking about back at the precinct. As I was leaving and you were looking at me, and those two male agents were making eyes about the whole thing, I saw how she looked at you. She was jealous, and I think a little sad too. I’m just telling you that the worst thing that could happen if you tell her is she says no. The worst that could happen if you don’t tell her is you miss out on a life with her. Or before you know it, she’s getting hurt in the field and you end up right back here, just like me. Please, Emily. You have a chance to go for it, to tell her how you feel, something I was too stupid not to take advantage of when I could. Do it before it eats away at you any longer.” It was a plea by the time you finished.

Emily had never looked at you with pity before that moment, but there was a hint of the feeling in her eyes when you finished, like she thought you were desperate or naive. And, maybe you were, but you also thought that some of the pity might have been for herself.

You stood up out of bed, and approached her. She was standing frozen in the doorway, and the look of pity disappeared when you whispered, “It’s not too late.”

Emily pressed her lips to yours, in a slow, delicate way, one that felt like a goodbye. When she pulled back, her eyes were still closed and she barely spoke against your lips. “I hope you’re right.”

You looked deep into her eyes once she finally opened them, trying to remember the shape and the color, and how it felt to get lost in them. But then they were gone again, replaced by the hair on the back of her head as she walked away. She gave you one last small, sad smile before walking out the door of your apartment. That, you knew, would be it.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

~11 months later~

Voicemail from: Emily Prentiss

“Hey Y/N. It’s me, Emily. I know we haven’t talked since the last time I saw you, and I know this phone call is kind of out of the blue… but, uh, I just felt like I should call you and tell you this myself. You were right. It wasn’t too late, and I told her. I told Jennifer how I really felt, and she broke off the engagement to be with me. We’ve been together now for about ten months, and um… well, this time around we both have rings on our fingers. So I guess what I’m really trying to say is thank you. Had it not been for you, or what you said to me that last night, I would have had to be the maid of honor at her wedding and watched while she married someone else, and the guilt would have eaten me alive. So thank you. You’ve changed my life. I hope that things are going well for you because you deserve everything that’s right in the world. Really, you do. And you always have my number if you ever need anything. Okay, um, I guess that’s all. Goodbye Y/N.”

Taglist

@90spumkin

#criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily x reader #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss #prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #prentiss #cm angst

166 notes · View notes

hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

This is so utterly stupid but I have a few HC’s about Muslim Dabi(again obv this isn’t canon I just think it’s funny)

-Dabi would def be the type of Muslim dude who claims to be super religious cuz he never eats pork and “goes to the mosque to pray”(which is actually just code for hitting a blunt in the back of the parking lot w Hawks and Shigaraki💀), but yet smokes^^ and still has hella sex with like every other girl who bats her lashes at him from across the dining hall

-he also is a big cat lover, he claims since the Prophet Muhammad had cats of his own it’s sunnah to keep one

-on Eid namaz he’s the most dripped out one at the session, I’m talking black kurta dress, nice ass watch, slicked back hair...but funny enough, no one has actually seen him in line for the prayers themselves

-if he were back at home with the rest of the Todoroki’s, he’d most definitely be THE MOST spoiled one. Fuyumi would get on his ass for not cleaning the dishes, but he’d wave her off and tell her it’s training for her to be a better housewife for her future husband(cue a soapy sponge thrown at his head)

-Snitches.Constantly. Bro like this dude catches Shoto on his phone when he’s supposed to be doing a dua? Boom, instant callout followed by a long ass lecture about how he’s straying away from his religion and how he’s going to hell just because he spent one measly moment on his device instead of praising da lord

-Hes also always telling fuyumi to cover up her sleeves that come just a bittt before her wrists, claiming that she’s showing too much skin(especially when Hawks is over, that fucker’s got his eyes on every single one of his family members). But she’s quick to point out his secret tattoos, piercings, and hair dyes. He just scoffs and pulls the “women were created lesser than men so it’s okay for me to act a fool but not for you” card🙄stg I can’t stand him

-Since he’s the closest to Natsu, he’s always giving Eid money to him the most. The dude will slouch against his favorite brothers’ door, watching him play 2K. “What do you want?” Natsu asks with no real malice, not taking his eyes off the changing screen, furiously clicking away on his controller. “Mom says you gotta iron your clothes, Fuyumi’s doing her own so she can’t do yours as well. Oh, and Eid Mubarak by the way.” Natsu pauses him game and stands to stretch his arms above his head, groaning at the tendons popping in place on his back. “Yeah man, you too-what’s that?” He points to a fat parcel in Touya’s hand. The white-haired boy grins and chucks the bulging package at him, which Natsu catches easily. His eyes widen when he tears open the cream-colored paper envelope and reveals dozens of bills exceeding the usual 5-10$ family limit. “Yo, what-how-thanks Touya!” He sputters, throwing the package on his bed and throwing an arm around his brothers’ back in a man-hug. Touya rolls his eyes and barely suppresses a smile at Natsu’s excitement,(something he’s always wanting to be the source of) pounding his back to let go before he asphyxiates. He lets go and Touya smirks before heading towards the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d thank Sho-turd as well while you’re singing my praise.” Natsu stops in his tracks and looks suspiciously at the withdrawing slender figure. “Why?”. Touya’s voice is distant as he moves to close and lock his door. “‘Cuz it’s his money after all.”

-The two brothers are always waking up at Sehri the earliest in Ramadhan, just so they can scarf down a majority of the food in the fridge and go to sleep without having to interact with the rest of their family at sunrise. And in the case that their family DOES wake up in time to see them chomping down food made for a WHOLE FAMILY and not just two boys, Touya is quick to grab his keys and jacket and cackle that him and Natsu are going to iHop to eat some more. Natsu ofc is quick to follow pursuit, throwing an apologetic grin towards his parents and other siblings.

-When they’re at the mosque and Enji has somehow bullied him enough to sit the hell down and actually ATTEND the lectures for once, Touya still has one up his sleeve. Planned out strategically, he always simpers to Rei that he wants to donate to the mosque, causing her eyes to water and a handful of cash thrown his way, her voice wobbly as she praises her son for actually taking the foundations of his religion seriously. Unbeknownst to her however, this just means that he’ll take a little bit more than he gives. Hawks will be standing at the front of the hall, bowing his head and using his silver tongue to graciously thank the many men and women who come forth to drop their allowance into the money basket. When he sees his best man approaching, he has to stop the smug grin from reaching his ears, instead slanting his brows and holding the basket out to the now black-haired thief. “Glad to see you’re taking eternal damnation seriously, for once,” Keigo flashes his perky whites and Dabi drops Rei’s money into the donation basket, dipping his hand a little lower for a second. “Glad to see you’re still standing here like some busboy peasant, as usual,” he fires back, the two boys catching each other’s eyes and stifling their cackles as the patched hand withdraws, a copious amount of bills in his hand, more than what he put in.

-100% steals shoes. Usually you hear about older men doing this, but age aint nothin’ but a number to Dabi, baby. “Nice kicks,” he nods to a boy Natsu’s age, noting the blue and black minimalist patterns adorning the shoes. The boy recognizes Dabi as one of the most revered figures at the mosque (and the most featured by adults. Who’d want their kid hanging out with the eldest Todoroki as an influence?) and bobs his head excitedly, spewing out the manufacture and release dates of the shoes. Dabi looks at the fanboy amusedly, continuing to lean against the shoe rack as more people crowd around and start to push the boy inside. “See you later Dabi!” The eccentric kid calls out as he’s pushed into the hall by grumbling uncles. The ravenette snickers fo himself, “Yeah, but you won’t be seeing these shoes anytime soon.”

-A notorious playboy in the community. Uncles glare at him, unable to scold him outright for his shenanigans due to his father’s close presence, and aunties steer their children away from him at dinner parties. Speaking of, Dabi’s at a dinner right now. He’s lighting up a joint in amongst 3 mesmerized girls sitting on the floor in front of him and 2 jealous dudes his age in a locked room, away from all the screaming little kids. “Wow Dabi, doesn’t it burn?” The youngest of the three girls asks him with imploring eyes. He smiles a charming smile down at her and he thinks he sees the other two swoon. “Nah, sweetheart, you get used to it after a little while. Don’t be like me though, keep yourself pure and clean,” he shoots a wink at them and they giggle, faces turning red. The other two boys sitting at the far end of the bed scowl at his successful flirting, but Dabi doesn’t care for any of them, honestly, they’re just target practice. Right as he inhaled the fumes of another puff, a little body throws itself at the door, banging its fists on the wood. “It’s time for food!” They all jump at the intrusion and chuckle as the intruder runs away, containing to scream about food being served. The group gets up to leave and exits through the door, but Dabi takes his time. He wasn’t done with his joint, and he has to waft the smell away anyways when he leaves. He’s opening a window to let out some air when he heads a soft shuffle from behind him. “Shows over guys, go eat-“ but when he turns around, the oldest girl of the three stands before him, fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. “Um, Dabi? I know you said not to try it out by ourselves so...I was wondering if you could-if you could teach me how...?” She looks at the half-used roll in his hand, and he looks from the blunt to her face. He looks behind her. A closed door. Perfect. Taking a step forwards, he relishes in how she takes a hesitant step back, the breath in her throat catching but she still doesn’t back down. She looks to him like he’s a god, and he feels like one right now. And so he steps closer until she’s backed against the wall, his lids lowered to her wide ones, and he placed a hand next to her head. “Didnt your mom ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” He ghosts by the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “She never told me the strangers would be this hot,” and he has to laugh a bit at her tenacity. He pulls away and flops back on the bed, signaling for her to join him. “Well come one then, I’m hungry, better hurry up before I change my mind.” And 5 shotguns later, Dabi barely wipes off her bright pink lipstick from his face and straightens his kurta along with his hair before bounding down the steps, eager for food. At his command, she comes down a minute after him as to not cause any suspicion, but it doesn’t stop Rei from shooting him a knowing glare from the living room as he piles his plate with food. He shoves a veggie roll in his mouth as he turns to join the boys in the dining area, but his path is blocked by a large woman. “I know you’re up to no good. The children told me what funny smell was coming from the room upstairs, and I know you’re to blame, Touya Todoroki. I respect your mother a lot so I won’t make a scene here-“ he interrupts her, mouth half full with a roll, “-I mean, you already kinda are,-“ but she continues her tirade. “-I don’t think you’re a good influence on these kids, especially your siblings. What self respecting family would be okay with their son acting like a hooligan, having piercings, smelling like weed?” He smirks and swallows before swerving around her. “I don’t know Aunty, why don’t you ask your daughter? She didn’t seem to mind my, ah, influence.”

-When they were all younger, there was a time where End*avor wanted the boys the toughen up a bit and stop messing around so much. He brought the family up to the mountains in a nice cabin, purposefully choosing an area with farms nearby. It was around the time of Eid-e-Adha, so naturally goats and sheep’s were going to be sacrificed for the family feast. Touya already knew what was going on, so Enji left it up to him, a scrawny preteen boy to take over the initiation. Fuyumi wanted to come to the farm too, but Touya glared at her and told her to stay home because “girls are too emotional for this.”(he really did think that, but above all he held a secret soft spot for his only younger sister). Natsu and Touya both started heading down to the field to pick out a goat, and ofc little Shoto wanted to come along to. He begged and begged for his older brothers to bring him along and to not leave him at home for once, and with a sly glance to Natsu, Touya relented. He leaned down to Shoto’s eye-level and asked with serious eyes, “You sure?”. Shoto nodded eagerly, standing straight up as to look more solemn and mature. Natsu held back a snicker and grabbed Shoto by the collar as they dragged him out to the pasture. Oh, the little boy was in heaven among the bleating sheep and fluffy coats. “Go ahead, pick one out!” Touya said eagerly, nodding to the clueless toddler to choose a sacrificial sheep. And so the heterochromatic child pointed to one, looking to his big brothers for assurance, to which they gave an excited nod. Shoto yelped with glee and spent the rest of the afternoon frolicking with the soon-to-be-mutton chops, completely oblivious to its grim fate and creating a bond with the animal. So when it was finally sunset and the time came to start preparing for the feast, Touya walked over leisurely to Shoto, pushed the grubby hand away from the animal’s collar, and started pulling the creature towards the chopping block. “W-what’re you doing?” Shoto asked uncertainty. “Well, we gotta eat, right? Thanks for picking out such a fat sheep, ‘wonder how it’s gonna taste,”. The eldest grinned with malice at his youngest brother, who started to sniffle and ball his fists. “You’re lying! Leave it alone!” He cried out. “Nope, m’not lying, ask Natsu.” Natsu turns to Shoto and shrugs his shoulders without any real regret. “You’re the one who wanted to come along, right? Think of how proud dad will be of his favorite-he finally sacrificed his first sheep!”

-the first time he was ever asked to lead the namaz, Keigo and Tomura kept kicking the back of his legs so he would fall over while trying to recite the prayers, and in turn he’d immediately whip around in the middle of the whole damn hall and shoot fire at the two howling boys. Needless to say, he was never asked to read again

(one would think since Dabi knows sooo much about being a gOoD mUsLim and how to follow the rules he’d take some of that advice HIMSELF)

#dabi #dabi headcanons #touya #touya headcanons #muslim mha #mha headcanons #touya todoroki #mha crack #bnha #mha #bnha dabi #mha dabi #mha toya #bnha touya

117 notes · View notes

joshjacksons · 3 years

Text

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

#joshua jackson #interviews #jodie turner smith #dawson's creek #dr death #fringe #emilio estevez #mr porter #patrick stewart #michelle williams #katie holmes

57 notes · View notes