#LIFE'S SIMPLY BETTER NOW THAT YOU'RE AROUND
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Leon S. Kennedy Scenarios
Some sweet and short Leon Scenarios, all inspired by the wonderful @leonw4nter who sent me some of her ideas (gen love you for that)
Three scenarios in this one, all fluffy and cute because Leon deserves happiness, and I will be the one giving it to him !!!
Info about the scenario at the start of each one
[Leon says he isn't hungry, then proceeds to steal your food | Was intended for Death Island Leon, but honestly, I think it'd fit better for Vendetta]
You glare at your boyfriend of a year as you shovel food onto your plate. There was a usual way of going about this. Leon would say he wasn't hungry, that he'd eaten at work, and that you shouldn't make a serving for him as well. Each time, you'd stupidly trust his words, which would inevitably end in him casually helping himself to steal parts of your food, all under the disguise of suddenly being just a little bit hungry. This time, you were prepared. You had prepared a second serving and were ready to defend your food with your life.
You trotted to the couch of your shared apartment, flopped down on it, and swiftly put the TV on. Leon followed after you wordlessly, and you just instinctively knew he was up to something. He always was. He sat beside you, rested his head on your shoulder sweetly - you immediately held your food up as his hand shot out. “You said you aren't hungry!” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you scooted away from the other defensively. “Oh come on, that was so long ago. I just want a little taste!” Leon almost pouts, though the mischievous sparkle in his eyes instantly betrays him. “Fuck off! Get some yourself. There's still more in the kitchen!” You respond, kicking him playfully as he tries to get closer. He puts on his best expression of betrayal, trying to make you feel sorry for him. “That's all the way back there! I've already sat down. It ain't fair!” He exclaims. “Come on, just a little bit, please.” He pleads, resting his head on your knee as he stares up at you. He almost looks like a dog begging for food now. “No, get your lazy ass up and get it yourself.” You simply say, rolling your eyes as you casually continue eating.
Leon stares you down the entire time, waiting for the moment that his usual food manipulation tactic works - you stubbornly stand your ground, though. Each time he opens his mouth to complain once again, you simply shush him and tell him the exact placement of the rest of the food in the kitchen. After you finally set your plate down on the small table beside the couch, Leon huffs as he moves to sprawl himself on top of you. “You're awful.” He pouts, snuggling his face against the side of your neck. “Just get your own food, love. Ain't that hard.” You chuckle and run your fingers through his hair, feeling his following sigh as the air hits your neck. His arms wrap around you tightly as he snuggles further against you. “Isn't fair.” He mumbles. “You're supposed to share with me and shit.” You giggle. “I made you a second serving. You could've taken that, just saying.” Leon doesn't answer, too stubborn to do so as he rests on top of you.
“Next time.” He mutters after a while as you feel him smirk against your neck. “Sure.” You laugh softly. “Next time.”
[Matching Pyjamas with Death Island Leon]
Even though Leon grumbles about being too old for childish things like this, you know that deep down he is more than thrilled as you present him the clothes you had ordered. A set of matching hello kitty pyjamas that you had bought on a whim - you definitely needed to learn how to not spend your money on the most random things (the fact that you had used Leons credit card was a minor issue for that plan though). He looked at you, sighing as he watched how excited you were. “Please Lee, you only gotta wear them this once I swear!” You begged, and you swore it was visible that his facade crumbled down. “Fine, fine. This once.” He gives in, grabbing his set from your hands swiftly. “No pictures, no laughing or I swear you'll regret.” Leon then adds, slightly glaring at you because he knew for a fact that you had taken pictures of him sleeping before - in your defense, the way he cuddled up to you during the night was just too adorable. You quickly nodded, though, even if you planned on breaking that unspoken promise. You were pretty sure Leon knew that already.
He insisted on changing in the bathroom, something about it being a surprise - he probably just wanted to stare at himself in the mirror and rethink all his life choices. You hummed excitedly, patiently waiting as you sat on the side of your shared bed. The second he stepped out you grinned widely, giggling as he came to stand in front of you. “Happy?” He asked, answered by you snaking your arms around him while nodding. “Extremely so.” You sigh, resting your head against the soft fabric of the sleep shirt. “Good. Can we sleep now?” He grumbles, his cheeks ever so slightly flushed. You knew he enjoyed this more than he wanted to let show. “Nuh uh! Gotta take pictures first!” You smile, and Leon groans as he realises that he'd be in for a longer night than he had planned.
[Re2 Leon being head over heels for you (and getting made fun of for it) No Outbreak!]
Leon can't help but grin widely at the text you've sent him, almost like he has to read it over and over again to have it imprinted on his brain or he'll die. He's taking his lunch break right now, nestled into one of the break rooms chairs. You've agreed to come see him and get him something to eat, because he totally forgot his food at home - he definitely didn't not take it on purpose so you'd have to come save him.
The two of you had only been dating for a month or so, but Leon already dreamed of a wedding and waking up next to you every morning - which had happened only once up until now. It had been a stormy day, and during the evening it only got worse, which led to you simply staying over. Leon still got that tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered how cute you had looked with your bed hair. If he wasn't such a gentleman, or if he wasn't so shy about it, he wouldn't have let you go the whole day. He giggles as he looks back through old messages - he especially likes the outfit checks you sometimes send him, he can't help but grin at the pictures and videos, his cheeks flushing as he thinks about how wonderful you look, no matter what you wear. He comes across the one where you stayed home for a day, and he swears his heart bursts with how adorable you look in your pajamas.
Leon knows he's getting weird looks from his workmates, but he really doesn't care. He's in love, he's allowed to be a little giggly and blushy, even if the others don't agree. Chris looks over his shoulder briefly, sighing a soft “simp”, and Leon shoots him a glare before lighting up at the sight of you walking into the break room. He immediately jumps from his seat, moving to give you a hug. “Missed you, Baby.” He mumbles, face snuggled against your hair, taking in the soft scent of your shampoo. “Can't have missed them much when you're on your phone the entire time looking at their pictures.” Chris speaks, and Leon would be mad at that, if you weren't giggling as hugging him back. “Brought you some snacks.” You hum, and Leon's heart practically stops in his chest with how cute you are - as if he hadn't been the one to tell you to get him food.
Moments later, he sits at the table again, you on his lap, because he insisted that the chairs would be too uncomfortable for you. He munches on one of the sweet treats you had brought him while you spoke about your day so far, Leon was definitely the happiest guy alive right now. He places soft kisses on your neck and jaw every now and then, smiling at you. He'd definitely die happy if it was by your side.
#leon vendetta#re2 leon#leon x reader#leon resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#leon death island#resident evil#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader
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Shadows and Surprises (3)
Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.
Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe
Y/N POV
You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.
"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.
"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.
"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.
"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.
You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.
"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.
"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.
"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".
You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.
"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.
"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.
"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".
"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.
"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.
"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.
Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".
Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.
"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".
Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.
Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."
"Mor?" you asked.
"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.
"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".
Azriel smiled. "Now".
Azriel's POV
After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.
"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.
"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.
"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.
"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.
-
It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.
"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".
"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.
"Are you ok?", he asked.
"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.
"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.
"What for?".
"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".
"You're daft".
Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.
"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".
Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.
"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.
"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Y/N's POV
I think I would like that.
WHAT.
You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.
Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.
-
A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.
“Come in”, you called.
Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.
“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.
“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.
“You ready?”, he asked.
“Ready”.
#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#azriel x reader
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The truth is waiting there
Find the series masterlist
You have a moment of uncertainty. Simon helps.
Established relationship Simon Riley x f!reader
Warnings: Swearing, implied sexual activity, these two are too cute, seriously I think these two are the most lovey dovey couple I've ever written.
Word count: 418
There was something about living in a liminal space, something haunting and fleeting and poignant.
You stared at the now-empty bookcase, hands resting on the last box filled with books. You knew where you were going… sort of. Simon said he knew the perfect place, he was just waiting for it to go up for sale. Another month, maybe two.
In the meantime, packing things away would make your lives easier down the road.
It just… it felt weird. A little scary.
The empty bookcase seemed to taunt you, somehow. Empty but for accumulated dust.
Was your life truly so easy to simply pack away?
“Sweetheart?”
You jumped when Simon stepped up behind you, one hand on your hip helping to steady you. “Sorry,” you gasped, one hand pressed to your chest as if to calm your racing heart. “I didn't hear you.”
“Looked a thousand miles away,” he murmured, pressing up against your back, his arm looping around your waist. “You alright?”
“I'm okay,” you murmured, leaning back into him, knowing he'd hold you steady. Your gaze strayed back to the empty bookcase, fingers curling around the box once again. “Just…”
“Just…?” He pressed gently, tucking his nose behind your ear, his breath warming your skin.
“It's… weird. I guess. Throwing me off, I think.” You breathed in slowly, grounding yourself in the familiar feel of your husband.
“Having second thoughts?” The question came slowly and for too even. Measured.
“No!” You turned, and it was only Simon's quick reflexes that kept you from getting hit by the box of books. “Never.”
Simon resettled one hand on your hip, looking down at you. You held eye contact, willing him to see you meant what you'd said. His lips quirked in a little smile. “Will it make you feel better if I promise we won't have to move again?”
You smiled sheepishly, winding your arms around his neck. “Maybe.”
He chuckled, the hand at your hip tugging you closer, as if there was any space between you to begin with. “It'll go fast,” he murmured, thumb slipping under your clothes to get at your skin. “Besides, once we're moved in, we'll have all new rooms to break in.”
You warmed at the thought and couldn't help but laugh. “You're terrible,” you chided, grinning.
“Made you laugh,” he pointed out with no small amount of smugness.
You kissed him. Only incidentally to shut him up.
He was right, though. You'd have to make the new house very thoroughly yours.
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Happy Never After | T Meier
summary: not everything has a happy ending
this is a re-write
-
"I don't understand you sometimes!"
"What's not to understand Timo?! I drop everything for you all the time and you just don't care-"
"I care!"
"No you don't! I dropped everything for you when you were traded to Jersey, I left my job and sold my apartment to follow you and I put up you you being absolutely miserable every single day because of it! I moved around the country now we’re in Jersey without my home and job!"
A weight lifted off your shoulders, finally speaking your heart. Timo shifted awkwardly infront of you.
"Glad you got that off your chest" he grumbled, angrily
"you're not the only one who sacrificed stuff you know?"
You laughed humourlessly "what could you have possibly had to give up?"
It was like he was searching for something to say "| missed out on like everything it was to be a rookie because I was tied down to, to you!"
Your eyes went wide and Timo bit his lip, regretting how he'd said it.
"You 'missed out'?" You put air quotes around your words and quirked your eyebrow
He gulped
"On what exactly? The drinking and partying? The hooking up every other night? Every Sunday I came over Kevin had a new girl in his bed! Is that what you want?"
"What? No-"
"That's what you said! You just said that!" You wave your hands around with no reason, just feeling frustrated.
"You know that's not what I meant!"
"That's what you said!" You screamed, as if raising your volume would get the point across better.
He ran a hand over his face and sighed "God would you stop being such a bitch-"
Nope.
The sound of your palm meeting the side of his face sounded through his apartment. He grabbed his cheek which was turning red now while you stumbled back, tears in your eyes and gasped.
"Don't you dare, don't you dare call me names!" He reached out for you, to console you but you pulled away "No, No don't! Don't touch me! God, I can't even look at you"
"Babe, please just listen I didn't - woah what are you doing?" He rushed, watching as you picked up your coat and bag.
"I'm leaving, I'm going home"
"Please don't leave! C'mon I'm about to leave on a two week long road trip let's not do this"
You looked at him, breaking his heart as he took in your red nose and tear stained cheeks while you sniffled
"I can't Timo"
When the door shut he stood in the silence wondering
what the fuck just happened?
When he woke up the next morning he had hoped you were there, you weren't. You hadn't answered any of his calls and texts.
The devils were about to leave for a two week road trip and he didn't want to leave this on a bad note but he had no time before the flight was due to leave.
Before take off you received a text
Timo 🤍
i love you and I'm so sorry. please just call me, I wanna hear your voice.
You read the text, like all the others but never replied.
Instead simply throwing your phone away to sit and sulk.
Day four of the trip and he still hadn't heard from you.
The first sign of life was when Jack's girlfriend posted a photo on her instagram stories of a bunch of denim jackets with the boys names and numbers on the back for the wags annual brunch.
He spotted his own name on a jacket, heart content to know you were there. However a couple of hours later he saw another story post of the same brunch and could see that same table with one jacket lay on it, the number twenty eight standing out to him clearly.
It had started taking a toll on his play around Vegas.
Nico spoke to him but was shut down quickly as Timo insisted there was nothing wrong and that he was sorry. Nico didn't care about his play, he was worried about his friend.
A week into the trip you visited Timo's apartment with a cardboard box in hand. Packing up everything you wanted to take with you. At some point you'd gotten so emotional you sat down on the couch to breath and turned the tv on.
It flickered to the last channel it was on, hockey. You watched the screen as it panned across the devils and the canucks. You watched as the screen showed Timo, holding his chain in hand and kissing the pendant that hung on it - your pendant.
"Oh T..." you sighed, biting your lip and turning the TV off.
When the road trip ended Timo couldn't wait to get home and see you, try to resolve this clear issue.
Opening the door, he immediately felt off. His eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what was different.
Your favourite blanket that hung over the couch was gone.
Your shoes weren't littering the floor next to the front door.
You weren't there.
Timo scrambled for his phone, calling you and texting you to be hit with the voicemail.
37 voicemails.
146 text messages.
27 instagram DM's.
6 twitter DM's.
1 email.
You never replied.
It wasn't until a few days later you called him when you knew he'd be at practice unable to see his phone so you could leave a message.
When he returned to the locker room and saw his missed call he cursed, rushing to listen to the voicemail.
"hey timo, I know it was shitty to ghost you like that but I feel like if I didn't do it this way I would make it worse for everyone. I feel like we need time apart, you made it clear that being in this relationship made you miss out on things so I want to give you the chance to explore that lifestyle! I'll always be your biggest fan, from San Jose to Jersey I've got you but I think I just gotta have you from afar for a little while"
Timo looked at his phone for a moment before he threw the phone onto the floor and stood on it repeatedly.
Completely unaware everyone was watching the scene he was causing.
It was Jonas’ hands on his shoulders that snapped him out of his bubble "C'mon man, let's go some-"
"She left me"
"Okay, come on buddy not here"
He looked up at his friend and let out a soft, shaky breath before he shoved his head on his shoulder and began to sob.
"You're alright, it's alright"
The pounding on your front door that night startled you, leaving your desk to answer the clearly urgent guest
The door wasn't even open enough to see you before you heard "What the fuck is going on?!"
"Hi Lauren, come in, lovely to see you" you joked, rolling your eyes as she barged into your apartment.
"Timo is on my couch right now crying, what is going on? More importantly are you ok?" She asked, eyes fluttering over you to check.
You smiled softly "I'm okay Laur, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you l just - my head has been fried"
Her eyes softened "hey listen, I'm here for you okay? I just don't understand what's going on? Jonas brought him home and we are both as clueless as each other"
"I broke up with him"
"You What? This is a joke right?"
"Laur, i feel bad enough please don't make me feel worse" you groaned.
She stood there looking at you "I don't get it, you're Timo and Y/N. You don't break up"
"Yeah well.." You trialled off.
You went into all the details. Explaining the cause of the fight and all the things he said to you amidst it all.
By the end you were both in tears and when Lauren hugged you, you felt relaxed for the first time in a long time
"We love You, so much! and we support you always-"
"But Jonas-"
"But Jonas nothing, you are our friend too and it'll take some getting used to but we support our friends"
When Lauren returned home that night she didn't speak to either of the boys. Clearly seeing how much Timo was hurting right now that being angry at him wasn't an option.
He returned home, to an empty house on day three.
He felt like he was becoming a burden in their home.
So he moved the pity party back to his place.
Life carried on as normal as it could, he played hockey, he practiced and he slept. He did everything he would usually without you. He tried not to think about you too much but it was hard living in the place he had never been without you.
The days and month kind of moulded into one.
Halloween passed, Christmas passed, New Years all without you.
Timo downloaded tinder and bumble. He let his friends set him up. Nothing was working. He hated this.
The next time he saw you was New Year's Day.
Lauren had asked for you to come along to the game with her as the Devils were playing the Flyers in the stadium series and her future in-laws would be present.
You'd been friends with Jonas since high school and his parents always enjoyed seeing you.
Jonas obviously hadn't passed on your news to his parents.
"We're super excited for the wedding! And you must be too sweetheart, oh you and Timo will be next huh?"
Your face went red and you stuttered until Lauren replied "actually, Nutchara. Timo and Y/N broke up in September"
She looked shocked "Oh no, sweetheart I'm so sorry ! didn't know!" Pulling you into a hug to console you.
The hug was showcased on the jumbotron, Timo watched from the bench, his heart in his throat.
After the game the Siegenthaler’s were gathered together with you chatting away and Timo overheard Nutchara speaking as he passed.
"Oh now you're single maybe we can finally set you up with Nico, he's a bit hopeless with romance"
You laughed, making a comment about "Poor Neeks" Timo about-turned bumping into his teammate behind him and poking a finger into his chest before grumbling "If Nico puts his hands near my girl, tell him he's a fucking dead man"
You did not go out with Nico. Jonas made sure his parents didn’t meddle.
January passed and the rest of the months ran quick.
You were helping Lauren out with wedding stuff, constantly flying back to Canada to visit the venue, speak to catering, order flowers. You name it.
The devils never made it to play offs.
You watched them the night they failed to qualify.
You wrote out a text to Timo
i'm sorry. you deserved that one.
You didn't send it.
The wedding planning soon started coming into play.
Bachelorette parties and Bachelor weekends commenced before the big day.
You spent the week before trying to fix everything to be perfect for their big day.
The Friday night was everyone flying into town. You couldn't be there to pick people up as your own flight out of Newark had been delayed but the team pulled through with Nico and Jack taking point as welcome committee.
Your new flight landed hours later, while everyone was supposed to be at dinner. You texted Jack to ensure someone could pick you up and he told you he had it it sorted.
You wanted to kill him when you exited the airport and you saw Timo waiting for you in the loading zone.
He was leaned up against his car, rushing forward for your bags when he saw you
"I thought Jack was picking me up"
"He ran out of fuel and I had a full tank so he sent me"
Your sighed "Well alright then"
The ride back to the hotel was quiet and awkward.
Nobody tried to make small talk.
When you arrived at dinner you swiftly knocked Jack's head and said "Never do that again"
Saturday was the rehearsal dinner and you weren't feeling so great.
You had put on the dress and headed across to the venue. You did your due diligence and welcomed in both Lauren and Jonas’ families.
Jonas was mingling with people but didn't miss how Timo’s stare hardened when Nico walked up to you and hugged you hello.
"Please don't murder him, this is my wedding after all"
Timo took a drink and grumbled "I make no promises but I'll at least hold off until after his speech" continuing to watch your interaction.
Jonas laughed and walked off with a "Thanks bud"
Timo kept an eye on you all night long, feeling something was off.
You didn't look right.
After everyone was sat for the meal and speeches had been done you wandered off to the bathroom and hadn't returned for quite a while.
A break in the meal service gave him the opportunity to slip away to find you.
He found the ladies bathroom, he knocked and said
"Y/N, you in there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. What's up?" You croaked. Timo frowned before saying "I'm coming in"
"Timo, no-" it was too late, he'd already made his way into the bathroom to find you on the floor hunched over the toilet.
He walked over, pulling his suit jacket off and draped it over your shoulder and then pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail to the best of his ability.
"You don't have to-" "Just hush, I'm here"
You were silent but grateful, continuing to spew for the next twenty minutes.
"I think I just ate bad chicken on the plane" you mumbled, defeated and laying against the tile wall.
"Let's get you to bed" he decided, pulling you up from the wall. Your body, weakened, fell into him and you groaned
"But the dinner " "can be done without you come on"
He slipped the two of you out the back door and called a cab back to the hotel. For a moment you forgot your situation, opting to think this was all normal.
When Timo took you up to your room and helped you get ready for bed, all normal.
You knew you shouldn't have but when Timo tried to leave you cried out "Please stay, I can't be alone like this"
It didn't take an awful lot of convincing, Timo knew you and he knew you were right. You never really got sick but when you did you always needed help.
He stayed.
He stayed all night while you slept, his fingers tangled in your hair scratching lightly at your scalp to soothe you.
At five that next morning he left you in order to return to his room and get ready for the wedding.
When you woke up, slightly confused you found a note on the pillow next to you.
morning, I had to go get the boys up. hope you're feeling better, I'm sure you'll look beautiful today. advil and water on the nightstand < 3
You smiled lightly, looking over to see a plastic water bottle and the aforementioned pills waiting for you.
You picked up your phone from the other side, a few texts from people checking you were ok was all along with a message in the bridesmaid group chat about getting ready together.
"She's alive!" Was yelled when you entered the room.
You smiled "Yes, yes I'm here I had food poisoning"
"Timo took care of you though, that was sweet" one of the other bridesmaids said, curling her hair and looking at you in the mirror.
You nodded, picking up a champagne glass from the table "Yeah, he left to go get Jonas up this morning-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Lauren yelled "He stayed over?!" Yeah nodded sheepishly "Uh yeah, I guess I asked him too when I was tired I think I was just used to him helping me out when I'm sick"
Lauren gave you a look but you didn't press it further, after all it was her wedding day.
The ceremony didn't last long, Lauren had always said she didn't want people being bored and just wanted to party.
You'd found your space at the head table, right next to Nico and you couldn't help but think Jonas’ mom had something to do with the table plans.
You were talking after dinner with Nico about everything going on in his life when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders.
You turned to see Timo smiling down at you "Hey Neeks, mind if I steal her for a bit?"
Nico smiled "Nah man, she's all yours. I'll see you in a bit y/n"
You smiled back before pushing the chair out and grabbing Timo’s hand to be directed onto the dance floor.
You didn't speak for the first few minutes, just basking in each other's company until you said "Hey thanks for last night you didn't have to do that"
"I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself"
"I'm not your problem anymore T"
"Not by my choice" he noted and you huffed "Timo-
"No, please just hear me out because l've been waiting for the right time to speak to you and I mean what are weddings for if not love, eh? Whatever that stupid fight we had was about was not worth loosing you over. I hate myself for that and the things I said because I love you so freaking much and I was so stupid for allowing myself to loose you. When you left me I was broken"
You sighed, looking up at him for any sign of a lie.
There was none "Timo... I miss you too but you know it's not that easy to just get back together"
"I know, I just needed you to know how I felt" he nodded.
"Well Thank you, i appreciate it. Maybe we can talk again whenever we're back home in jersey?"
"I like the sound of that"
You nodded, Timo twirling you out in the dance and when he pulled you back in he said "You do look beautiful tonight I guess I predicted that right"
Back in Jersey come the fall it had been a while since that night at the Siegenthaler wedding.
The devils home opener was packed with fans.
You were sat with a beer in hand, looking out on the ice at the red jersey's looking at all the new names around.
Your thoughts were broken when you felt something drape over your shoulders, turning you saw Lauren alongside other girlfriends and wives all smiling at you.
"Hey!"
"Hey sweetheart we didn't think we'd see you here, we saw you from the box" Lauren points up to the 'wags' box.
You blush "Yeah, i uh haven't been up there in a while"
"Well we thought you might want this back, a little birdy told me you might need it" you pulled the jacket draped over your shoulders off and looked at it.
The black denim jacket displayed the number twenty eight alongside Meier so nicely.
You smiled "That little birdy would be correct" you answered and the girls all cheered.
"Ugh, finally they're back together! We're so happy for you"
"Thank you guys honestly, it's been a massive journey but we're here now!"
Come the end of the night the boys were on a winning high and Timo didn't think it could get better than this.
That was until he came out of the locker room to find you with your back turned to him he saw the name and number on your jacket.
He groaned "Oh god I forgot what a beautiful sight this was" slipping behind you, arms travelling around your front to land on your abdomen and kissing the side of
You leaned into him "You like it?"
"Like it? I love It" he announced, leaning in closer to your ear to whisper "I'd like it better on our floor”
You straightened up "Oh we've gotta go guys! We've got stuff to do. See you all next week!"
You were halfway out the door when someone shouted
"they really never changed!"
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they stare at me (and i stare at you) {Felix Catton/Reader}
one. i saw you kept your gaze controlled
Summary: It's Orientation Week at Oxford and Felix is excited to experience everything university life has to offer him. Mostly socially. Almost all of his peers, thankfully, seem to be on the same wavelength as him, except you. Fine, if you wanted to take yourself too seriously, you could do it far away from him, he thinks. At least, that's what he thinks at first.
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. Reader is the Acting CEO of their family's International Media and Telecommunications Empire. There will be smut in future chapters (see masterpost for more details/warnings). You & Felix are both 19.
This is technically an AU of my long running fic head, heart, hand. but can be read 100% on its own. No prior information from that fic is necessary going into this at all.
{ masterpost }
A/N: 1787 words. Hi! Excited to finally be publishing the first part of this!! Updates will be slow, but I've already got about 20k written from all around the timeline so I just need to piece everything together. This takes place in Felix's first year of Uni so this fic won't feature Oliver. If you like it, or have thoughts about it, I'd love to hear from you!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
There's a novel charm, Felix considers, about moving into the Oxford dormitories, even if the hallowed halls echo his own home more than most other students.
During orientation, he makes friends easily, all warm smiles and sincere laughter; people have always flocked to Felix. Part of it is his natural charm, but he's never been above exploiting his looks while putting his best foot forward in situations like these. His outfits are always on trend and on brand, and he spends longer in the mirror than he'd ever admit to another living soul.
It was a breeze to make friends of his peers, the people in his course - business, at his parents suggestion - the people in his dorm, anyone he really came across who felt like giving him the time of day. Everything always seemed to reinforce what he already knew; Felix Catton was a born people-person, there was nothing that could shake his confidence in that fact. Well there wasn't anything, until he met you.
In all honesty, Felix's first impression of you was that you were strangely familiar, but ultimately rather dull.
During that orientation week, he'd gotten himself to all of the introductory workshops to his course that the University had set up for students to meet their classmates and get an overview of their degrees. At every single one, you were there, hanging back, rather quiet, seeming preferring to observe the rest of your peers unless your input was specifically called for. Again, your name rang a bell to him, but you were a non-event otherwise as he focused on getting to know the people who seemed far more eager to engage. At best, you were simply a standoffish prick at the back of the room who always felt the need to wear fucking business casual to decidedly casual casual workshops.
Once, he overhears a guy he thinks is named Benji asking if he'd seen you at the club that night. Though your smile is barely a smile, more a suggestion of amusement rather than anything else, your tone is sharp and bright.
"Of course I'll be there."
"Looking forward to it," Benji grins, before heading off in the opposite direction. Felix realises he's been caught eavesdropping when your gaze meets his. He's not quite sure how to react, not to the conversation he'd overheard, nor to the curious look you're now giving him. Instead of calling him out, or even saying anything at all, you nod to him once, and take off in the direction of the dining hall.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Felix finds himself at the club that had been catering to the first years every night this week so far. He drinks, he has a good time, and he ends up going home with a pretty girl studying Chemistry, but he didn't recognise anyone there to be you.
More and more he starts seeing you around campus, or maybe it just feels like that now that you've caught his attention. Did you always have people around you or did he not notice you amongst some of the people he'd started to befriend. Our maybe he hasn't reconsidered you because he'd never seen you properly smile like that before. Everywhere Felix saw you, you were amongst friends, sometimes even one or two of his. It was never opportune moments, however, he always seemed to be on his way to or from something. He felt like he never got the opportunity to properly meet you.
Until it's eleven o'clock on a Friday night, and he hears your voice coming from around the side of one of the dorms as he was on his way to celebrate the last day of orientation week with the rest of the first years.
"- yeah, no, I know it was Decker," you sounded annoyed, and when Felix investigates, he sees you leaning against the wall by the entrance to a dorm building, phone to your ear, smoking a cigarette. Except if he hadn't just heard your voice, he'd barely be able to tell it was you; why the hell would you choose to live your life in business casual when you could look this damn good? "Because Decker's been a pain in my ass ever since -" whoever was on the other end of your call cut you off and you sighed deeply, pinching your brow out of frustration, "yeah, I just need this pulled before it can get to print for Monday," you sighed. Stubbing your cigarette out on the wall, you ducked down to pick up a dark bottle that had been hidden in the bushes by your feet.
Felix doesn't know exactly why he keeps watching, but he's fascinated. He can't look away.
"I emailed you a bunch of ads for charities we could run in its place, pick one, stick it in, it's on me, it's my good deed for the day- no, tonight!" You insisted, scowling, before you took a sip of your drink, rebuffing whoever is protesting on the other end of the line, "I'd rather the page be fucking blank- because we're not printing a homophobic hit piece on Portia De Rossi a week after she comes out!" You argued, before you sighed deeply, adding, "or ever, fucking obviously." Then, frustrated, "of course Decker fucking okayed it, you saw the shit he wrote about Rosie O'Donnell back before I -" but again, you were cut off, "I told him to cut that shit out the moment-" you took another drink, furious, "no, first thing Monday I'm having words with him." There's a terse goodbye, and your phone clicks shut, and Felix suddenly feels like he's snapping out of a trance.
"Can I help you with something?" You snapped suddenly, seemingly to no-one. Felix feels his heart rate pick up nervously. It only spikes hire when your head turns to look at him. Your gaze is ice fucking cold. You take another drink.
"Is everything okay?" Felix hears himself asking. Your lips twisted into a humourless smile, and you reached into your pocket to pull out a pocketbook of cigarettes.
"Peachy," you say bitterly, "do you have a light? I usually wouldn't ask but these pants are stupidly tight and it's going to be a hassle to get my own."
"Downside to looking that good I guess," Felix steps forward, rummaging around in his jacket pocket to find his lighter. What he's said doesn't hit him until you're leaning in to light your cigarette from his offered fire, but it seems you hadn't quite heard him, to preoccupied with your thoughts, "are you on your way out tonight?" Felix tries again, and you take a long draft, thanking him quietly as your expression scrunched up with a thoughtful kind of irritation.
"Is getting absolutely pissed tonight the smartest move? Absolutely not," you huffed, jaw set in a firm line, "am I going to do it anyways? You fucking bet." Then, you turn to him, eyebrows raised, "what about you, Catton?"
Felix kind of feels like you'd just smacked him. What?
"How did you know -?"
"Heard your name a dozen times over the week, we're in the same course," you offered easily. This Felix knew, however the alarm bells in Felix's mind just started ringing louder. There was something about you now, something almost too casual about how you choose to look away, take another sip of your drink.
"Pretty sure they only asked for our first names," he frowns. There's something rather dreadful the way you look at him out of the corner of your eye, smile curling at the edges of your lips like you're pleased.
"Perceptive one, aren't you?" The tone of your voice makes him feel like he's won the world's worst prize. Pushing off of the wall, you make a start towards him, and the path off of campus. You shove your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket as you pass, "walk with me, Felix Catton," you called out to him as he watches you pass.
He thinks you might be a trickster spirit, attempting to steal his soul. Or maybe you're just going to kill him.
For some stupid reason, he still chooses to walk with you.
He really tries not to dwell on how unsettling it was that you seemed to know more about him than you let on. He's pretty sure he recognises you from somewhere, perhaps you'd recognised him too, and you'd simply remembered.
"You're Y/N," your last name, however, does not come to mind. You confirmed easily, offering him a cigarette. He doesn't need to prompt for your last name, thankfully; you offer it. Somehow, it still doesn't feel like an equal exchange. There's several minutes of silence, broken only by the gentle sound of gravel crunching beneath both your feet, and the occasional sip you take of your drink. Finally, Felix asks who Decker is.
"Twenty stone worth of bigotry shoved into the most weasly looking cunt you've ever seen in your life," you muttered darkly, though the wording shocks a laugh from Felix, and your anger softens at the sound, wearing a pleased little grin when you look over to him, "he knows I check everything, especially his shit since I don't trust him, don't know how he thought he could pull a fast one on me like that."
"What kind of work do you do?"
"It's just the family business," you shrugged off the question with ease, "I've been helping dad out with it for years, so he's asked me to take care of a few things while he's on holiday."
"Local paper?"
"What?"
"You were talking about something going to print on Monday, does your family run a local paper back home?" When Felix's question is met with silence, he looks to you. He wasn't expecting to see you looking suddenly uncomfortable.
"Something like that," was all you offered, evasively. There's another beat of silence before you seem to shrug off your discomfort, giving him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, "our parents are friends," direct and to the point, "I used to see you at," you paused for a moment, deliberating, adding carefully, "parties." Eyes bright, there's still something careful beneath that in the way you're watching him. Parties, you say when he knows you meant events. The formal kind he fucking hated. Huh.
"That's where you got my name from," his relief, however, is short-lived when he sees the strange look you give him. But in the next minute it's gone, and you're looking out to the road ahead.
"Exactly."
For reasons Felix can't put into words, there's not a single part of him that believes you.
#felix catton x reader#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton imagine#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#manic writer#ceo au#felix imagine#felix x reader#felix x you
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exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt1 | pt 2
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.
— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives
— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating
— word count: approx. 6.4k
— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace
GIF by msgorillagripcoochie
Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.
There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.
If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.
He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.
He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.
"Would you like to play some music?"
You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"
"It has bluetooth."
"Oh."
Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.
Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.
Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.
You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.
You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.
You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.
No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...
You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.
Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.
"Is that one of your favorite songs?"
You glance at him, nodding.
He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.
He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.
"I liked it."
"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.
He likes how easily he has that effect on you.
"So, where are you wanting to head to?"
You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.
"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."
He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.
He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.
He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.
"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"
You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."
He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.
Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.
He catches you, helping you down.
You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."
Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.
He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."
As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.
His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.
Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.
You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.
He looks down at you. "Where to first?"
He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"
You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.
He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"
You blanch.
Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?
Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.
Your hand quickly latches onto his.
Nate twines his fingers between yours.
You don't see the smirk on his face.
Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.
You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.
"You can look around, if you want."
You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.
You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.
Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"
He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.
He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.
You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."
Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...
Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.
He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.
"Try this on."
You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"
He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."
You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.
"I don't thi-"
"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.
He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.
He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.
Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.
Finally, you sigh, stepping in.
"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.
You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.
Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.
Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.
His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.
He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.
"Y-yes?"
"Do you have it on?"
"Yes..."
"May I come in? I'd like to see."
You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?
"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"
He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.
A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.
He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.
You look just how he had imagined you would.
You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"
"Perfect," he interrupts.
You look up to him. "What? Really?"
He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.
He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."
You blink up at him, then sniffle.
"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.
You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."
He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.
So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.
This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.
You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.
When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.
Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.
Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.
You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?
You'd truly thought you were fine without it.
Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.
But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.
Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.
If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.
He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.
Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"
He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."
"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.
But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.
High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.
You know all too well about abandonment.
Nate will probably be just like all the rest.
You take a step back. "I should probably change."
"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"
You pause. "Like... Twirl?"
He crosses his arms, just staring at you.
Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.
He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."
While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.
When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.
You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned impression. Surely he didn't...
He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."
You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."
He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.
As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.
You glance up to him. "Nate?"
"Hm?"
"You're sure it didn't bother you?"
He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.
That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.
But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, book only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.
And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.
She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.
With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.
He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."
"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."
He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."
"What?"
"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."
You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.
"Good," you reply.
The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.
When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.
He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.
He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.
"Hungry?"
You nod.
Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.
You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"
He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.
Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.
Every inch of you.
When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."
He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.
You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.
The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.
But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.
Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.
You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.
You can barely afford a small salad here.
"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.
"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."
Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.
Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"
Nate looks at you.
"Water, thank you."
She nods.
"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."
She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.
You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"
He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.
You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.
"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."
You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.
You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.
He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"
You lower your menu. "You're sure?"
He gives a slight nod of confirmation.
It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.
As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.
"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.
You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."
He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"
Your brows raise. "You want to?"
He nods. "I do if you do."
You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."
He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"
You blush. "I guess so."
Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.
"Do you like it?"
You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."
He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.
Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.
He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.
Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.
You laugh nervously. "I can do that."
He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.
Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.
Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."
He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.
You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.
Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.
You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.
"I'm just rusty is all."
"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"
You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.
When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"
He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"
You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."
Right. Dinner.
"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.
You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.
When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.
You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.
"Is that smart?"
He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"
"Drinking...since you're driving?"
He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."
He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.
And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.
"I...I don't know how."
He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.
"Not at all?"
You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."
You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.
"I could teach you."
Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."
He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"
"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"
"I have insurance."
You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"
He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.
He grins. "It has a big bed."
You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.
He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"
You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."
"Have you ever even drank before?"
You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."
"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.
You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"
He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.
"Oh."
"I can get you one made, if you want?"
You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."
He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.
Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.
He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."
Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.
You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"
He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.
"I see that, baby."
You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.
You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.
One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."
He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.
You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.
Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.
You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.
And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.
Even if Nate knows otherwise.
He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.
Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.
He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.
Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.
You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.
And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.
It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.
Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."
He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"
You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."
He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.
He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."
He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.
Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.
Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.
You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.
Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"
He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."
You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.
Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.
Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.
You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.
A diamond necklace.
"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.
Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.
You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.
"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"
You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"
"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."
You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.
"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."
He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"
"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"
"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.
You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."
"I didn't do it for that."
"Then why?"
How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?
"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."
"Nate, I don't-"
"Listen, do you want to repay me?"
You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.
"How?"
"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.
You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"
"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."
You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?
When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.
"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.
You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.
All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.
"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.
"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n#nate jacobs x you#nate jacobs x reader#nate jacobs imagine#euphoria x you#euphoria x reader#whew lad look at me exploring my emotional abuse trauma through my writing#i hope this chap doesn't suck‚ i feel like it sucks
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Charles Leclerc imagine
In which you got your period at your boyfriend's house but he takes care of you and makes you feel better.
You went over to your boyfriend's house wearing your pajamas. It was a cute set that Charles had gotten you a few months back. For what reason? He simply wanted to please you and get you something you wanted for a while now.
Three knocks were heard on the outside of your boyfriend's front door, and shortly after that he answered and opened it.
"Hey mon amour, how are you feeling?" Charles asked, knowing you've been having some pre-period cramps. (my love)
"Hi! I could be better. How about you, Charles?" You asked as he let you inside. He looked at you as you walked in, admiring how cute you looked in the set he got you.
"I'm doing really well now that you're here." He said, honest. You cracked a smile at that sentence and blushed. God, you still had the biggest crush on him after months and months of dating. You couldn't help it though, it was indeed Charles Leclerc.
"You're so adorable." You said as you set your tote bag on the kitchen counter and watched as your boyfriend came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. You got butterflies, and he knew that. You couldn't lie to him. He always knew everything and you couldn't help it.
"Je t'aime." Charles said, kissing your cheek. "Come on, let's go watch a movie. I got ourselves snacks. They're all set up in the bedroom." (I love you)
You followed him and saw multiple kinds of snacks scattered around the desk besides his bed. Charles got every snacks you liked, and even a cute blanket that he had previously washed after buying it at the store. It smelled amazing.
"Charles, do you know how much I appreciate you?"
"What? Of course I do." Charles said while giggling, probably not taking you very seriously.
"Stop laughing, I'm being serious!" You said, as you threw yourself onto him as the both of you fell on the bed. You grabbed his face and covered him with kisses as he grabbed your waist with both of his hands so that you wouldn't fall off. As you pulled away from his face, you grabbed a strand of his hair and put it back into place. You grinned and watched him as he looked deep into your eyes.
"Come on, choose your movie crazy lady." Your boyfriend said, handing you the TV remote.
"Ha-ha. Very funny." You replied sarcastically, taking it from him and went on Netflix.
After looking for a while, you ended up watching the first Spider-Man movie together. You laid on top of him as he played with your hair and whispered sweet words in your ear. You were about to fall asleep until you felt something odd.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back." You said, quickly getting up and going into the bathroom. You closed the door behind you and immediately sat on the toilet, pulling your pants and panties down. Shit. You got your period. Not knowing what to do at first, you looked around but there was nothing that could help you. You sighed and decided to do what was best.
"Charles!" You yelled in disbelief. Footsteps became louder and louder, indicating that your boyfriend was getting closer.
"What's going on?" He asked, a bit of panic in his voice.
"I- I got on my period." You said, feeling awkward.
"Can I come in?" Charles asked.
"Uh- yeah?"
Charles came in and looked through one of the cabinets in the bathroom. He got a box of pads out and handed one to you. You looked at him confused at first but then you sighed in relief and looked at him.
"Thank you, you saved my life. Why do you have this though?"
"I bought it in case anything like this would ever happen, and it did. To you." Charles smiled as he quickly kissed you and got out of the bathroom, letting you have some privacy.
After doing what you had to do, you got out and joined Charles back in bed. The movie was almost over but you and him didn't mind. You got under the sheets and he wrapped you up in his arms, cuddling with you. You felt your eyes close more and more each second. You were so thankful to have a boyfriend that truly cared about you. And so, you fell asleep as Charles continued to whispers sweet words in your ear.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#cute#f1 blurb#f1#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#fandom#f1 x you#romantic#romance#boyfriend#formula racing#formula 1#formula one
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↳ EVENT 06. M!Kylar (Incest)
Pairing: Big Brother M!Kylar / F!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+
WC: 2,509
Warnings: incest, bath sex, yandere, creampie, cockwarming, stockholm syndrome, riding, breeding
Prompt(s): 07 — incest
Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: i dunno what inspired me to take a softer approach to this request, but i've been enjoying writing the really loving requests... so i hope that this is still enjoyable !! i also think kylar suits this prompt the most, so it was super fun to explore!!! tysm!
After a long, exhausting, and humiliating day of school (or as Kylar likes to affectionately call it, imprisonment), there is simply nothing better to cap the awful experience off than to indulge in some alone time with his favourite little sister. His only little sister, the light of his life, the sole joy he experiences in this shitty world and his shitty life. To say that he relies on you for all of his comfort and happiness would be an understatement— he saps it. Leeching off of you from the moment he enters home, calling out for your attention before the front door is even closed. And the fact that you're none the wiser only encourages him to use you some more, forever pushing you to your limits to hopefully break you in as his own.
And tonight is no special exception. Away from prying eyes, in the safety of four thin walls, he begs for your affections once again. Dragging you into his room to spend the night together, just like always. And it's comforting to know that even after all the bullshit bullying he has to endure during the day, he can always count on his precious little sister to make it all worthwhile. God, he'd go through near death beatings daily if it meant he got to wrap his arms around you at the end of it all, nice and snug and soft, pretty little sister in his arms for him to coddle and coo at. Because he loves you so much, he's willing to endure whatever it takes to keep you out of harms way; so much so that he willingly puts himself into dangerous situations just to make sure you don't need to leave your shared home for any reason.
The world doesn't deserve your kindness. The town is unworthy of your cuteness, undeserving of your sweetness. Or; perhaps he's just being a selfish big brother, right? Keeping you all to himself, locked away in his tower for self serving reasons.
Like to be the only one to hear your barely audible little whimpers, how soft and pretty you sound right now, especially when his knuckles brush against your wet cheek and you shiver into him. Fuck, feels so good, doesn't it? He knows he does, playfully biting down on his bottom lip— unchecked confidence flowing through him now that he's only with you. It's funny, actually, how no one outside these four walls would assume just how cocky he can get, reserving that side of himself just for you. It's only fair, he thinks. He gets to see sides of you that no one else does, and in return, you receive authority over every aspect of your life, all in an effort to keep you safe. An innocent enough want, though he's well aware of just how degenerate he can get. How far he can twist relative honesty.
It's the least he could do for you, considering all you've got to do is exist and he's happy. Do you even know the things he goes through for you? How much trouble it is to actually keep you healthy and secure? It's like keeping a pet, only more rewarding when you take hold of his hand, little fingers locking with his own before dipping them back under the water together.
So cute! You're so fucking cute it pains him, heart hurting at the way your silky skin rubs against his own, tits pressed snugly to his chest, secured only by the warm water surrounding him. The skin on skin contact just gets to him— it's one of his favourite ways to spend time with you. Naked, bare, ignoring the moral implications of playing with his baby sister in such a disgusting way; he plays with you in far worse ways anyway. But the connection coursing through him, from your fingertips to his own, is unmatched. Causes his cock to tremble inside of you, his eyes instinctively rolling and then squeezing shut at the tight fit inside of your cunt.
It's bath time! he'd ordered you once home, pants already tenting from the way you excitedly started running the water at the mere mention of some valued bath time with big brother.
C'mere, sit on my lap he'd encouraged you once getting in the too hot water, but a little burning isn't gonna stop him from hanging out with his baby sister, now is it?
Wanna sit on it? he'd asked you once feeling you squirming around, wiggling your baby sister butt on his fat cock like routine. It's not the first time he's impaled your angel cunt in the water, and it certainly won't be the last. A regular enough occurrence at this rate that he knows cock is what you're after when he mentions bathing— not that he's any better, looking forward to getting you wet in the bath just so he can shove his dirty big brother cock inside of you again and again— routine.
It's only natural, he thinks. Given that you're disallowed from seeing anyone else, let alone any other suitors, that you'd want to explore things like sex and orgasms with your big brother. Which is luckily all according to his plan, to seclude you enough to make you think that it's your choice to date him. Greedy cock twitching inside your pretty little hole as you idly rub a thumb up and down his held hand, allowing him to slide down the tub just a little to reposition his cock at a better angle inside of you. If he keeps you all to himself like this, leaving you no other choice but to date and fuck and kiss and marry your big brother, then he can die happy.
"What did you do today?" He mundanely asks, but it's more of a grunt than anything else. Winded by the unfairly tight squeeze of your cunt, wrapped sooooo nicely around him, God, he'd kill for that cunt, yknow?
You take a second to answer, clearly preoccupied with not shifting around too much as he feels you tense up on his cock at the sound of his voice. Pretty baby, big brother will always protect you, okay?
"The usual," you yawn, and he has half a mind to pull out of your pretty pussy to instead stuff your open maw full with cock. "Mostly waited for you to get home, Ky."
Oh, how the affectionate nickname you've taken to calling him goes straight through him, fat beads of precum staining your insides all gloopy as a proclamation of love. His pretty little stockholm sister, are you even away of the things you do to him? How the banality of it all, taking a simple bath with you, is the lewdest part. Cock pulsing against your squishy insides while your tits ride against his chest, primal need dictating him to let go of your hand in favour of placing both hands on the small of your back. A little pressure added there to really make you feel the weight of your words, and by extension, the weight of his cock.
Your reaction is immediate, a sharp little squeak that he wants to force out of you again and again— but there is joy to be had in taking things slow, too. Like how when he lifts a hand up to your soaked hair to pet at, he's privy to the view of your wet cat like stare back at him, pretty pout and all. He leans down, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as a reward for being so cute for him. "Don't you get bored of waiting for me every day? Aren't you doing something else?" He tests you, resting his chin at the top of your head to force you into listening to how hard his heart beats for you; in time with how fast his cock pulses with need.
"I— No... Seeing big brother again is my favourite thing!" You protest, and it's difficult to remain in his calm, cool, and collected big brother composure when you're whining so prettily for him like that, a little moan at the end from the way he rolls his hips against your own in the face of your absolute devotion.
Perfect, he thinks. You're already his, so he can do whatever he wants to you, right?
And while having you cockwarm him is one of his favourite pastimes, he'd be lying if he said he could do it all night. Much to his disappointment, though he tries every single bath time to do just that, your high pitched gasps and sweet little sighs coax him into movement without fail. A gentle back and forth to begin with, moving you up and down his cock with ease more so than moving himself— you can always count on big brother, okay?
And yet, domesticity calls to him. Begs to keep the slow pace, to let you hump him mindlessly once he's kickstarted your movement. You're a good girl, you know to keep moving, yeah? A simple up and down while he twirls your wet hair, gently cupping the back of your head with one hand, the other finding home on your ass to pinch and tug on your cheek. There's not a thought to be had in that dumb little sister brain of yours, is there? And there better not be, given how hard he works to make sure that there isn't. Rock hard cock stroking your insides gently, at your own pace, a satisfied hum escaping him when you huff and puff up and down his length.
"Good answer— ah—" he rewards you with a rushed moan, wrapping his body even tighter around you to get as close as possible to his little sister, wanting more than anything to melt into you, become so connected through the leaking precum dirtying your insides that all you can think about is him— because all he can think about is you, it's only fair! Even if you've proven yourself thus far to surround your world with him, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of you. Convinced by your devotion to thrust his cock up just a little, enough to knock you off balance and further into his greedy hold. "Waiting for big brothers cock?" He urges you to continue, to fuck his perverted length faster, fuck yourself stupid on big brother, okay baby?
You let out a muffled mhm!, moaned directly against his chest, heat rising to his cheeks from how cute you can be when doing something so immoral. You actually enjoy fucking big brother? Gross, he sneers internally. Only, the fact that you take part and also relish in something as vulgar as this tugs on his heart. Has his mind reeling with affections for you, grabbing a greedy fistful of your ass to aid in your bounces up and down.
Water splashes around him, the pace of your tiny humps quickening the harsher he grabs you. To the point that he has to use both hands on your pretty body, literally picking you up and letting you drop back down on his cock with insatiable need.
"Fuck, I can't— you're too good at this." he half laughs, sinking further into the water so as to allow you enough room to properly straddle him, every bounce you make on his fat cock leaving him more than a little breathless as he struggles to keep up with your thirst. Chest tight with the sight of you indulging yourself to his cock, using him just as much as he uses you on a daily basis. Oh how he loves it, to be at the receiving end of your adoration, your warm cunt sucking him further in with ever fuck, prompting his hips to hump upwards out of sheer desperation to match your sibling fucking energy.
Greedy as he is though, his hands settle possessively on your hips. Aiding in your movements in a selfish manner, forcing you to grind your puffy clit against him every time you slam your ass back down against his lap.
More than anything he strives to make you happy. Everything, literally everything he does is for you. Guided by your smile, aided by your laughter. He loves you so much, didn't you know? It's why he's helping you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, thoughtlessly thrusting in tandem with your humps, moaning out for you just as much as you sob his name. Over and over, his favourite song.
And like the good big brother he is, he knows when you're close. Takes over the job of fucking when you grow too weak to continue, despite the water splishing over his face. He'd drown if it meant you got to cum, honestly.
Rather than state the obvious, he focuses solely on helping you get there. Cooing and tutting and staring at your scrunched up pretty expression. He'll have to give you so many kisses afterwards for allowing him the privilege to see that cute face later on. Helping you grind your hips down on him in a way that his groin rubs your clit just the way you like, preferring to keep you seated there as your nails dig into his chest for slippery stability, taking to fucking his cock as deep as possible from your stationary seated position. He's barely moving, relying on the twitches and throbs of his cock inside for stimulation. But fuck— baby sister cunt feels so good, how your insides squirm around and suck his cock off so well, pretty whines spilling for him in abundance.
He stares at your face, only so that he can watch you fall apart on his big cock. Because the cut off sob you let out, followed by a gasp of his name before your moth falls open in a silent beg is so cute, fuck, he can't stop himself from cumming too. Not when your hole wraps tighter than ever around his intrusion, bullying his way inside your cunt to shoot his load as deep as possible, aiming to breed his baby sister bitch as payment for sticking by him when no one else would. Promising a future you've yet to learn about simply because you're too cute to hold back, painting your insides sticky white to mix with the bath water when he inevitably pushes some out with deep thrusts.
Gushy little cunt, still spasming around his length when he's done filling you up. It's a good thing you're in the bath with him after all, quietly cooing to you in soft privacy to get up, let him clean you while you're here. There's no one here to tell you how wrong it is for him to not only breed your cute hole, but to also clean it up afterwards with his fingers sneakily entering to scissor around a little.
And he hopes to keep you this way. Dumb, obedient, and oblivious. It's when his favourite little sister is at her cutest.
#500 event!#kylar the loner#kylar smut#dol smut#degrees of lewdity smut#dol fanfic#degrees of lewdity fanfic
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Y'ALL
#league of legends#caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#vi#piltover's finest#caitvi#LIFE'S SIMPLY BETTER NOW THAT YOU'RE AROUND#WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?#MAYBE OUR WHOLE THING WAS JUST A HUGE MISTAKE#SO IF YOU WANT ME TO GO I'M GONE#BUT ASK AND I WILL STAY#GAY PEOPLE#caitlyn league of legends#league of legends caitlyn#vi league of legends#league of legends vi#league of lesbians#heartthrob caitlyn#heartache vi#skin bios#they are so gay#oh my god#vi's so fucking dramatic i'm crying#i hate them (i love them so much)
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— does he like it when you're being clingy?
including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men
— wriothesley
as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.
to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.
the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.
now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.
what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.
now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.
your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.
interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.
a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?
alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.
— neuvillette
in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.
and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.
"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.
neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.
you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.
don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.
and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.
instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.
"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.
"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.
he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.
"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."
"and here i thought you must know me by now?"
"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.
he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.
"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"
you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"
— kaveh
from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.
you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.
you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!
and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.
your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.
"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.
"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.
and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.
he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."
he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."
"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.
perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.
— scaramouche
even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.
in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.
scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.
but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.
he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.
your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden.
although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.
what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form.
next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.
thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.
what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.
"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."
"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.
"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.
"as long as you still love me, of course."
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#kaveh x reader#scaramouche x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#kaveh x you#scaramouche x you#wriothesley x you#neuvillette x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#scaramouche fluff#wriothesley fluff#neuvillette fluff#wanderer x reader#genshin impact drabbles#genshin drabbles
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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.
NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.
I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.
The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.
Because it's so hard to exist in this world.
My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:
Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)
Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.
Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.
Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.
Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.
Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s
I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.
So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".
Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)
Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.
If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.
NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD
Stigma in the DSM
Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)
"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."
(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)
#actuallynpd#signal boost#actuallyautistic#mental health awareness#narcissistic personality disorder#people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias#(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar#mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo#anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that#he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful#misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included#several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and#he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he#was glad he did#fun times#or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to#support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma#bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me#trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times
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Thank you for all of the stories recently! Can you do one where Lando gets tired of you calling him “Little Lando Norris” and decides to show you how big he really is?
L.L.N II Lando Norris ⒽⓌ
SUMMARY: Lando doesn't mind you making fun and playing games just as long as you're aware of the truth...and he'll be more than happy to remind you.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: Got some good news so felt inspired to write again ;) Sorry for the delay.
"Aww poor little Lando." You jokingly patted him on the back. "Better luck next time buddy." you laughed as you walked away leaving him fuming.
Once again you'd beat Lando for 3rd place by merely a few seconds, an ongoing rivalry between you both that had everyone at the edge of their seats.
Ever since karting you and Lando had this heated rivalry, always making the other's life impossible and being each other's biggest competition so it was no surprise when it continued onto Formula 1.
To the outside world, it was incredibly entertaining for everyone to see the rivalry between the two of you. The rude remarks and snarky comments you threw at each other during interviews, the hate between you two only brewing stronger with each race.
But little did people know the way you were able to keep the hate at bay and keep yourselves in check. It had all started as a stupid drunk mistake when you found yourselves fucking in a club bathroom. The memory was hazy but you both remembered enough to know that deep down you liked it.
The next time it was a simple rash decision, you didn't think about it when you found yourself waking up in Lando Norris's room naked his arm across your waist, quickly throwing it off before running back to your room.
It was good. The sex was good, and that was the only reason you kept coming back. That's what you both told each other.
But it had become a frequent occurrence now, almost 5 months of quick and meaningless fucks where you could let out the pent-up tension and anger you had for each other.
But this still didn't take away from the fact that you still loved to piss each other off on track. Secretly you'd grown to love doing it more because you felt the direct consequence of it later.
"Lando, how do you feel about yet another close battle today with your biggest rival on track?" The interviewer asked him.
"Yeah, she just got lucky getting the better line around the next corners, but she knows I'm not one to back down, she knows what's coming for her," Lando smirked loving the double meaning behind his words.
He could see you a few feet from him giving your own interview. He just about heard you when once again you'd referred to him as Little Lando Norris, something you'd taken to recently which just irked him a little more than usual.
He watched you carefully, keeping his eyes on you like a hawke which to everyone else looked like pure hatred but truly it was simply because Lando could see the way Pierre got a little too friendly with you for his liking.
Lando would never admit it to you but he truly couldn't control the jealousy that erupted in his stomach whenever he saw you get too friendly with anyone. Whatever you had might have been meaningless but as far as he was concerned you were still his for now.
"Alright thanks, Lando enjoy your break." Lawrence finalized the interview with Lando outside the McLaren hospitality just as he could see you walking out of the press conference room with Pierre quickly by your side.
He didn't hesitate as he stood up with a quick step towards you. His blood boiling when he heard you laugh at something Pierre said.
"I need to talk to you." Lando stood in front of you making you stop abruptly and bump into his chest.
"Oh look hey speaking of the devil." You smirked.
"Little Lando Norris." Pierre joked but for some reason, Lando didn't find it the least bit amusing coming from him.
"Okay well can't talk now so bye." You were about to move past him but Lando grabbed your arm.
"Wasn't asking." Lando was ready to pull you away with him but was stopped by Pierre who grabbed your other hand.
"I actually just asked her for a drink so-" Pierre was quick to tell Lando.
"So she can't right now." Lando didn't let him finish or you protest before whisking you away.
You were completely taken aback as Lando shamelessly dragged you away from Pierre not caring the way there were several eyes on you as he took you towards the McLaren building.
Your heart pounded in your chest rendering you speechless as he walked you all the way into the building past several staff members before reaching his room where he was quick to shut you both inside.
"Lando what the-" you finally regained your voice as the door closed behind you.
"Shut up." Lando pressed his lip to yours as he pressed you to the wall. You had to push through the rush that invaded your body trying not to give in so easily.
"Lando, what has gotten into you?" You asked breathlessly as Lando began kissing down your neck unbuttoning your jeans and dragging them down
"So it's just Lando now?" was all he said.
"What are you- ah fuck." before you could reply again you cut yourself off when Lando began ruthlessly attacking your clit.
Lando basked in the pleasure he could produce on you loving the way you became putty in his hands behind closed doors despite the way you loved to tease him and take control outside.
Lando's pants suddenly felt painfully tight as he continued his attack on you taking the liberty he unbuckled his pants all while still tasting you before pulling his dick out into his hands to give it a few pumps.
Lando didn't stop, not until you had your first orgasm before finally getting up. "Why don't you return the favor baby?" Lando asked despite knowing he didn't have to since you were on your knees before he could even finish asking.
You prepared yourself knowing the ache you would feel from sucking him off having to open wide to take him into your mouth. Lando's eyes showed the smugness in them at watching the way you always struggled initially to take him never able to take him all down until you'd sucked him off for a while.
Lando groaned as you began moving your head up and down, your hands taking care of what you couldn't fit in your mouth for now.
"Nothing so little about that is there?" Lando asked the pride clear in his voice.
Only now did you understand what this was all about but you didn't care to complain since he'd gotten you all worked up.
"Why don't you make it extremely clear for me." You decided to try to have your own way.
"Gadly baby." Lando pulled you up before picking you up and using the wall to support you in his arms before using one of his hands to line himself up against your whole.
"Please-" You pleaded, Lando loved the way you begged every time he got near you like these.
"you ready?" he asked despite feeling your wetness already drip onto him.
"Yes, please fuck me." You sighed as you grabbed Lando's face to kiss him.
Lando used this distraction to push himself all the way inside you swallowing your yelp. "Shit baby you're so wet," Lando whispered knowing he had to keep semi-quiet because of the remaining staff in the building right now. Although half of him hoped everyone could hear what you were doing and the way he was making you feel right now...make it crystal clear to everyone.
"Ah, fuck Lando go faster." You begged him as Lando pushed in and out of you fully and completely at a brutally slow pace.
"Who's making you feel like this baby?" Lando asked not answering to your pleas just yet.
"You Lan...You are." You could almost cry at the torturous pace he'd set.
"not even fucking Pierre can make you feel like this can he?" His words were laced with disgust and anger which made your stomach flutter.
"No...no just you." You replied kissing Lando once again.
This was enough for Lando as he picked up his pace feeling the way you clenched around him and the way you struggled to keep quiet.
"Fu...so good...shit" You moaned in a whisper as Lando kept thrusting faster and faster into you against the wall.
Lando could cum at the sight of you, watching the way your tits would bounce with each thrust, the way your eyes rolled back, and hearing your uneven breaths as you tried to keep quiet while your orgasm quickly approached, feeling the way you held onto him as if your own skin was begging for more. This was it. This was glory to Lando.
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1#f1smut#smut#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1fic#formula 1#changetyre#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#ln4
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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.
The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.
Would Harrington pitch a fit?
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.
Several somethings, in fact.
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.
An unfair advantage, really.
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
"What do you mean Si--Wayne."
"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.
"Anybody else?" He asked.
"Nobody human." Steve replied.
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…"
"You take any today son?"
Steve his head.
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.
Course he hadn't.
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.
#hands on knees#this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff#FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03#Eddies POV change would be chapter two#Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me#no one get excited Idk the brain is doing#steddie#beat to shit Steve Harrington#wayne pov#outsider pov#wayne as a BAMF#I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post#pre steddie#wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve#tw injuries#0o0 fanfics#stranger things
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Dani should Kidnap The Clones.
It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!
*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*
Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!
Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.
Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.
They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.
But also?
Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.
And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?
.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?
"....Free Clone Baby?"
Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?
Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.
Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.
Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?
Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?
Damian.
He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?
He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.
Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.
And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!
In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!
....what are they arguing about?
*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*
See you in a few days!
(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*
Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.
And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*
Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.
Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<
*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation
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Hiii idk if you write for mattheo riddle but I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle × hufflepuff!reader one with princess treatment and secret dating? Maybe some angst with fluff at the end? If not no problem thank youuuuuu🦧
My Love 🌸❤️🔥
Dating a jealous Mattheo Riddle in secret is never a good idea
a.n // swearing, Mattheo is lowkey mean at one point
fluff/angst // m.r x hufflepuff! reader
Mattheo never was a morning person. Becoming one was one of the "good" habits he had developed since becoming your boyfriend. He was also getting less detentions, owing it to you, and your good influence. He would almost always have his homework completed, his grades were improving as he actually attended his lessons, and he no longer joined in with his childish friends as they practically bullied their classmates. He also had you believe he quit smoking. He didn't and would always discard his cigarette whenever you saw him, but how could he tell you the truth when you looked so proudly at him, as though he had the entire world in his hands.
Almost everyone around him had noticed the small changes in his behaviour, but no one needed to know that he had his own guardian angel in human form that made smiling come a lot easier to him than before.
"You're really special to me, y/n." he had whispered that secret meeting at the Black Lake. It had become a routine for the two of you to meet at the lake and spend time just being two teenagers in love without the burden of family and circumstances. After all, he was the Slytherin prince, son of the dark lord, and you were simply a girl in Hufflepuff. Nothing special, though his words would have you believing otherwise.
You were sitting between his legs as he leaned against a tree, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.
You smiled at his words, how he was able to be so soft, "You're special to me too Mattheo."
He brought up a soft hand to pull your chin to face him, "I mean it, princess, you've changed my life for the better. You're so pure and kind, dont know what you're doing with me."
You looked up at him with wide eyes as you pressed a kiss in his palm.
"Don't look at me like that angel," he groaned, throwing his head back, "You don't know what you do to me."
You giggled at his exaggerated actions, "You're such a drama queen Mattheo."
"It's just what you do to me."
"Mattheo, I haven't done anything to you. You've always been a kind, caring soul, and now everyone else sees what I see."
"Lucky them." he said sarcastically, "Come on then, princess, I've got practice, and you've got a Hogsmeade date with Lavender, we can't keep her waiting." he tapped your side, and you got up, holding a hand out to pull him up. He smiled down at you when you did, always in love with how much taller he was than you. You pulled him into a hug, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"Meet me tonight?" he whispered.
You shook your head into his chest, "I can't, I'm studying in the library with Cho and Lavender."
He rolled his eyes, thankful you couldn't see the look of annoyance on his face. He loved you (though he hadn't yet said), but what he didn't love was the secrecy of your relationship that prevented you from doing normal couple things. To be entirely honest, it was his decision to keep the relationship a secret, but it was all for you. Everyone in Hogwarts loved you. You were popular and incredibly liked because of your friendly, positive spirit. The last thing he needed on his conscious was ruining that for you, making you be seen with him.
He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you later then, yeah?"
You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, "Of course, have a good practice."
.
.
"but y/n are you ok with this arrangement?" asked Lavender, your best friend, at The Three Broomsticks.
"Arrangement? God Lavender you make it sound like a business deal."
Lavender was the only person who knew about you and Mattheo, as the two of you couldn't help but gossip about everything, including your own lives.
"It sounds that way to me. I mean, he won't even talk to you in public."
"He talks to me." you muttered.
"A subtle nod of encouragement doesn't count."
You rolled your eyes at your best friend, but deep down, you knew she was telling the truth.
At the beginning of the relationship, you didn't mind that he didn't want to tell anyone, but it had been four months, and he was still treating you as this big secret. You were able to deal with it as he was a good boyfriend. You may have been dating in secret, but he always made his presence known and treated you like a princess, even if it was from a distance.
"I don't know anymore Lavender how am I even supposed to bring it up in conversation. Maybe he's ashamed of me or something."
"I really hope he isn't because then I'd have to kill him. Just ask him."
"I can't just ask him."
"Why not, I thought you weren't scared of him."
You sighed out in exasperation, "I'm not. But, I just don't want to ruin things."
Lavender stared empathetically at you, taking your hand into hers, "y/n, he's your boyfriend, acknowledging you in public is the literal bare minimum."
"I know, I'll talk to him."
.
.
"Oi big game tomorrow Smith." heckled Malfoy in Potions the next day. You rolled your eyes from beside Zacharias Smith, the chaser for Hufflepuff.
"As far as I can remember, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin last Malfoy." you said to the cocky blonde boy, "let's hope you don't get injured this time." you smiled sweetly at him. Mattheo sniggered from beside Malfoy, earning a nudge from his friend and quidditch teammate.
"What, she's not wrong." he shrugged to a scowling Malfoy, a grin evident on his usual miserable face.
"Shut it, Riddle. And you too l/n, you might want to pay more attention to Snape, last I checked you failed this class."
You rolled your eyes at the petty boy. Of all Mattheo's friends you liked Malfoy the least, he was arrogant and immature. You took your attention off of him and continued with the potion before you.
"You might want to stop paying attention to Snape, Malfoy. You act like his little pet." muttered Zacharias Smith to Malfoy. Tensions always rose near quidditch games, and Smith could have been just as petty as anyone else. His remark made you laugh out loud, especially after seeing the look of annoyance on Malfoys face.
"Is something funny Miss l/n?" Came Snape's monotonous voice.
"No sir."
Snape took one look at you and Smith down his nose and turned back to his lesson, "The two of you can join me for detention tonight and exchange as many jokes as you want then."
You rolled your eyes behind Snape's back, knowing best not to challenge his words.
"Bet you're happy to be in detention with your little girlfriend and Snape." laughed Malfoy.
"Shut it, teachers' pet." argued Smith.
"Leave it Zacharias, there's no point."
"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Smith."
You shook your head at Malfoy's childish behaviour and raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who stood beside him. Half expecting Mattheo to say something in your defence, but you knew he wouldn't. He wore a scowl like no other and aggressively worked on his potion, occasionally huffing in anger. Though you had no idea as to what he was angry about, if anything, you should be the angry one as he allowed his best friend to talk down to his girlfriend.
The lesson seemed to draw out, and you were glad you were paired up with Zacharias, whose jokes took your attention off of your sulking boyfriend. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo burning holes into you with his intense gaze. He didn't engage once in Blaise and Draco's conversation. Instead, with his jaw clenched, he sulked over his potion.
"I'm sorry about Snape giving us detention, but I also half expected it the second Malfoy spoke." Smith said in the corridor when the class had finally finished.
"It's fine, I did aswell, we all know Malfoy has Snape in his pocket. Thanks for defending me though."
"Of course, anytime y/n, I just can't stand him, I really hope we win tomorrow, wipe the smile off his face."
"Me too, I will be cheering so much for you guys."
Zacharias smiled at you, "Then I'm sure we'll win. I'll see you at detention. I'm gonna go meet my mates, bye y/n."
"Bye Zacharias," you waved him goodbye and made your way to your dorm room.
Detention with Snape came quick and ended just the same. You and Zacharias met outside his classroom, and Snape simply had you organise some of his ingredients for class the next coming lesson.
"Bye y/n, I've got practice now but I'll see you tomorrow hopefully."
"Bye Zacharias, of course you'll see me," you smiled as you waved him goodbye. You had known Zacharias a long time, practically growing up with each other due to living in the same neighbourhood.
"Enjoy detention, did you?" came a familiar voice in the otherwise empty corridor.
"Don't think anyone enjoys detention, Mattheo." You replied as your boyfriend emerged from a dark corner.
"I waited for you," he began, stopping to inhale from his cigarette, "Seems you had good company though."
You stared at him as he fiddled with his cigarette, "I thought you quit."
"Only do it when I'm stressed." he shrugged. A clear lie. His demeaner entirely different to how he was the other day at the Black Lake.
"What's there to be stressed about? You seemed just fine sulking in potions." You said crossed your arms.
"I weren't fucking sulking, forgive me for not being all chipper when my girlfriends practically throwing herself at my rival." he spat out.
"Throwing herself?! Excuse me, Mattheo, I was simply speaking to my lifelong friend. What, you wanted me to speak to you as you practically let Malfoy be rude to me, your girlfriend might I add." You pointed an accusing finger into his chest.
"That's different, not like I was flirting with someone else in front of you."
"I was not flirting. And don't act all high and mighty when you won't even defend me. You'd rather keep me a secret so you don't have to speak up to your friends."
"I'm not scared to speak up against Malfoy," he sneered as he let out a bitter laugh, "Whatever love, I've got a game to focus on. I can't be doing with your crying because I won't hold your hand in public."
"Mattheo, that's mean." you sighed, voice threatening to break, incredibly taken aback by his harsh tones. All this because you were nice to a boy you had known forever. You should have known. Everything with Mattheo was perfect, almost too perfect it made you forget how mean he could be. He was simply no different to Malfoy, and you stupidly thought he would be.
He merely shrugged at your words and turned on his heels, marching down the corridor down to the dungeons. He left you there with tears threatening to fall.
.
.
You woke up the next day in low spirits later than usual. You managed to pull yourself out of bed and make it to breakfast just before it ended. Your eyes were puffy from crying and your face red. You managed to catch a glimpse of Mattheo sitting at the Slytherin table. He didn't look as he usually did before a quidditch match. His eyes were on you instead of on his captain, and a faint air of guilt lingered around him.
"Hey you ok y/n?" asked Cadwallader from across the table. Another one of Hufflepuff's chasers.
"Just tired. Good luck today though, all of you."
"Thanks y/n, I think we've got this win, though." winked Zacharias.
You sat with Lavender in the stands and watched absentmindedly as the two teams came onto the pitch. The Hufflepuff players wore smiles and carried a sense of certainty about them, contrasting to the scowls plastered on the Slytherin players. Draco Malfoy, captain of them all, aggressively shook the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, Cadwallader, and took his place in the sky with his other chasers, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.
Mattheo stared daggers into the Hufflepuff team, occasionally taking his eyes off of them to look down at you. The game began and seemed to be like any other. Slytherin scored first, followed by Hufflepuff, then Hufflepuff again, and Hufflepuff again. Seeing your house team win put you in higher spirits, and you laughed with your best friend, as you cheered.
You smiled up at the players, even smiling at your boyfriend though quickly regretting so as you were met with a look of anger.
"And it's Zacharias Smith again for Hufflepuff, he's on a roll," yelled Lee Evans who was quick to support anyone who wasnt Slytherin, "And the Hufflepuff seeker has found the golden snitch and Hufflepuff win!! Wait, seems as though Riddle isn't too happy with that one."
The smile on your face was quickly wiped away, as were the feelings of joy to see your house win. You were now staring down at the pitch with wide eyes as Mattheo Riddle was single handedly throwing punches and spitting harsh words at both Smith and Cadwallader. You quickly brought your hands to your mouth, gasping in shock at the actions of your boyfriend. You had seen Mattheo in plenty of fights during your time at Hogwarts, but it was harder to watch now that you were in fact his girlfriend.
"Haha go on Cadwallader, tiny lad but he's finally landed a punch, and Smith lanky git," chuckled Evans as he commented on the spectacle that had everyone's attention, "Riddle is now joined by Malfoy and Nott who are not coming to fight but to pull him away. Awh, shame, I wanted to see a proper fight. Sorry, professor, definitely not supporting aggression in Quidditch. Ooh, Smith and Cadwallader look nasty, but they've finally taken Riddle off. Well, dragged him off. No one likes a sore loser, Mattheo mate."
You wanted to follow Mattheo into the dressing room and ask him a million question, well shout them at him, but you knew he'd only lash out at you. Mattheo had actually never spoken to you in any way other than calmly. Even back to before you had begun dating Mattheo was almost nice to you, but in his current state you knew best than to approach him.
After some time, you hesitated around the locker rooms if you should enter. Even if you had fought yesterday, you were his girlfriend and maybe he needed you. It seemed that the other players had all gone, and only Theodore and Mattheo were left. Just then, Theodore left the changing room.
"Oh hi y/n, you should definitely go see him." he nodded nonchalantly.
"Theodore, you know?" you managed to get out, though incredibly taken aback at his nod of acknowledgement.
"Oh, I always knew. Riddle told me way back when he had used to fancy you," he shrugged, "you should know what he did last night was shitty but he did have a go at everyone if that balances it out."
"He what?"
"Yeah, after he came back from your detention, he had a go at Malfoy. Said if he ever spoke about his girl again, he'd break his face." Theodore laughed, "He really likes you y/n, he's just a bit awkward with his feelings and words, not to mention incredibly insecure. Don't tell him I said that though."
"Thanks Theodore I won't, I'll go talk to him."
You walked into the Slytherin locker room cautiously. It was seemingly empty, but there in the corner was your boyfriend. Mattheo. He was sat shirtless hunched over the bench, his head in his hands. You walked closer to him to see his bare back covered in old bruises and scars. It hurt your heart to be reminded of the painful past he had to endure. Upon hearing your footsteps, he lifted his head, turning to face you.
"Hi." He whispered.
His face was covered in dried blood. His lip was cut, as well as his eyebrow, and you were sure he had had a nose bleed aswell.
"Oh, Mattheo." you whispered upon seeing him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and clean him up, "What happened?"
"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, "Are you here to break up with me?"
"Break up with you? Why would I do that?"
"Because look at me," he laughed, "I picked a fight with your friends."
You shook your head and made your way towards him, sitting down between his legs and holding his hands in yours.
"I don't care about them Mattheo I care about you. But I can't do anything about it if you push me away which is what it feels like."
"I know," he nodded, looking anywhere but at you. He seemed frustrated, "It's just stupid, I don't know how to say it."
"Just say words I'll put them together."
"You're too kind, princess," he shook his head, "I just got jealous when I saw you with your Hufflepuff friends. It's stupid. Reminds me of why I wanted to keep you, us a secret in the first place. And then I saw them today, and that tiny arse wanted to ask you out, and we were losing, and I lost it."
You brushed your fingertips over the bruises on his knuckles, again a million questions on your mind. You never knew why Mattheo wanted to keep the two of you a secret.
"You wanted to keep us a secret because you were ashamed of me because I'm in Hufflepuff?"
"What?" he said, clearly taken aback and confused by your words. His eyes finally met yours, "I wanted to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of myself. Because how could I openly date you when you're so kind and pure and I'm me. Look at me. I got into a fight with two people just because they're your friends. I'm not right for you, y/n. I'm not what you deserve, I'm violent and aggressive."
"Mattheo? Stop it. Don't talk about yourself like that, please. I'm with you because I like you for you and I want to be with you. I don't see you the way you see yourself. This whole time, I thought you wanted us to be a secret because you were embarrassed to be dating me and didn't want your friends to see."
"Fuck my friends."
You laughed softly at him, "I wish you had just said this to me, everything could have been avoided."
"I know," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not good with words."
"Theodore said."
"You spoke to Nott?"
"He told me you told Malfoy you'd break his face if he spoke to me again."
"I will. I'm so sorry angel for not defending you, I should have punched Malfoy right then and there."
"Maybe not so much physical violence."
"I'll work on it. But I messed up so much y/n, I don't know how to make this up to you. I shouldn't have let you think for one minute that I was ashamed of you. How could I be. You're beautiful inside and out, like an angel. You're too pure for this world, for me."
You smiled away at his words and his actions as he brought up a bruised hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Leaning into press a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm perfect for you as you are for me. You can make it up to me by apologising to Smith and Cadwallader and then finally taking me on a proper date."
"Fine, I'll apologise to Smith, I know he's your friend, but absolutely not to Cadwallader, he wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
"He didn't know I was your girlfriend." you pointed out.
"Don't give a fuck, I'll make everyone aware now. But yes, I will take you on a date. I've never been on a date before, but I'll do some research."
You giggled at his words, leaning into press a kiss onto his lips. You wrapped your hands around his neck, going into deepen the kiss but his groans from beneath stopped you.
"Sorry did I hurt you."
"No, no," he shook his head, but the look of pain on his face said otherwise. You got up from the floor, holding a hand out for him to take.
He took it and again leaned into press a kiss onto your forehead when he stood up to tower of you.
You looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought up a calloused hand to caress your cheek. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."
You smiled sweetly at him as you rubbed the blood of his lips, "You can stare at my beautiful eyes as much as you want after we visit Madam Pomfrey."
"Can't wait my love."
"My love? That's a new one, I like it."
He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's the truth. You are my love. I love you."
And just then, you wanted to melt into his chest. You leaned up to press a soft peck, before replying, "I love you too."
"Don't think anyone has ever loved me before."
"They're missing out on so much, but at least this way I have you all to myself. Loving you is so easy when you're not being a jealous ass."
"Hah, I deserved that. Of course, princess, I'm all yours. Come with me to the hospital wing."
Hand in hand, you both left the locker room, making your way through the castle to the hospital wing. You received a few shocked looks from classmates, but one look from Mattheo, and they instantly turned away. You laughed at this, happy to see the effect of your scary boyfriend.
Both Smith and Cadwallader were in the hospital wing, getting treated for their various cuts and bruises. You couldn't see from afar before, but Riddle really laid into them.
You turned to Mattheo, nodding in their direction. He rolled his eyes but eventually made his way over to them.
"I really don't want to y/n, I've never apologised for a fight." he said on the way over.
"You can start now."
Upon seeing Riddle, both Hufflepuff players instantly sat up, though both looked incredibly surprised to see your hand locked with the Slytherin boys.
"Hi. So I'm sorry, Smith, for picking a fight with you. My girlfriend likes you, so I guess you're alright. I'm not sorry to you though Cadwallader, you wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
Neither one of the boys replied, only stared with their mouths agape.
"Well?" Riddle asked almost threateningly.
"Babe that's not really an apology."
"It's the best they're getting from me." he shrugged before going to sit on a spare bed waiting patiently for Madame Pomfrey.
"Sorry about him." you smiled.
"Its ok y/n, just a bit shocked you're dating."
You nodded and explained how the relationship began.
"I'm happy for you y/n, you deserve a boy who'd kill for you. Preferably not us but oh well." Zacharias eventually said.
"Yeah, y/n, please tell him I'm really sorry for saying I'd ask you out, jheez I had no idea."
"No, it's fine really, how could you have known."
You said your byes and made your way back to Mattheo, who was getting treated by Madam Pomfrey. Upon seeing you, he smiled and opened up the duvet, making way for you.
"You can stay till visiting hours are over." warned Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm sorry again y/n." he whispered once she left.
"Don't be," you said as you turned to rest your head on his chest, "I just wish you would have told me."
He brought up a hand to play with your hair.
"I know, princess, you're mine, dont know why I'd wanna keep that a secret."
"At least Snape will go easier on me now if he knows I'm dating a slytherin."
Mattheo laughed, "You're using me now for connections. Don't worry, my love, everyone will know we're dating, I'll scream it in the courtyard if you want me to."
"That'd be nice."
.
.
#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo x y/n#harry potter x reader#harry potter masterlist#harry potter fluff#theodore nott#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle imagine#slytherin#slytherin imagines
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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#It's all fun and games kids!#spirit halloween#The Batkids are stressed#Danny pretending to be a Himbo#Like Brucie but only towards Batman#Danny looks young as hell#Bruce is ignoring him for now#Slow burn???#Maybe???
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