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plnkdemon · 1 year

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IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOMENT, MIGHT ALLOW MYSELF A SMILE

lucifer x gn!mc getting married tw/cw: food/eating (brief), self-indulgent ngl, terrible writing, no beta we die like mc. please let me know if anything is missing.

the way that lucifer would lose his head without you on your wedding day…

obviously, everything needs to be perfect. just like with his paperwork that he meticulously sorts into files, stacks, and drawers with each document’s location memorized, he has an entire scrapbook dedicated to just the catering. don’t bother trying to convince him that it’s unnecessary, the monotony of sorting and labeling soothes him and helps him get out his nervous energy.

the staff are scared shitless (it’s an unspoken rule to bring an extra pair of slacks in case they literally piss themselves, because it has happened before). they’re speed-walking around the venue with a protractor, measuring every drape, flower, and tablecloth to make sure nothing is even a millimeter off. you walk in and immediately the room is filled with the sound of exhales because lucifer’s tension — and therefore, his strictness — evaporates the second you smile at him. you will most definitely find yourself comforting at least one sobbing staff member in each stall of the bathroom over the course of preparations.

lucifer almost entirely takes over the tailor’s job when you’re at your dress/suit fitting. it’s a little cute when he balks at the idea of a wedding being cursed if you see each other in your wedding attire before the ceremony. “darling, a curse would run the other way once it sees me.” (dramatic bitch, wipe that cocky look off your face.)

he takes over a week to decide what tie to wear and you don’t even know how long it took for him to settle on a suit, since he promptly pulled out three completed wedding planners after you said yes. clearly, this has been keeping him awake at night before you even discussed the possibility of marriage.

he actually went out and manually extracted the gem he wanted for your ring from the ground because he read far too many articles on blood diamonds and slave labor and… he honestly fell down a rabbit hole of human history. the conclusion is: by golly if these humans won’t do it right then i must. he’ll probably won’t tell you this story for a good while into the marriage though because at the time, he’d told you it was just a business trip — wanting to keep it a surprise and all — and then just genuinely forgot that he never said anything.

you will have to physically restrain him from writing the best man’s speech for mammon. on the day of the ceremony though, it’s well worth it because the second-born had spent so long working on it and getting critiqued and edits from asmo and satan that the result is so perfect it ought to be framed in a museum (besides the fact that he tried to sell the flashcards his speech was written on on akuzon during y’all’s honeymoon).

lucifer goes to so much effort to accommodate all of his brothers though, it’s heart-wrenching. mammon is sat at the only seat with solid gold utensils and promised that he can keep them if he doesn’t try to pickpocket from any of the guests. leviathan is allowed to pick beforehand where he’ll be sat so that he won’t have to be too close to the band that it overstimulates him or the dance floor where someone might bump him and everyone else at his table are people he’s comfortable with (and under his seat are magically noise-blocking ear plugs in case he needs a break from the ruckus and wants to take a break in the other room). satan is appointed as his second-in-command, because despite their differences, he doesn’t trust the other brother’s enough to make sure things are up to his standard in case lucifer himself isn’t there (and the trust isn’t misplaced, satan single-handedly managed each and every conflict no matter how small with the utmost care, precision, and covert manner). asmo is trusted with both the rings, the clothes, and is allowed to design and coordinate both of bridesmaids/groomsmen/wedding mates outfits, hair, and makeup, and he does so flawlessly. beel is given his own personal catering team, which is prepared with about as much food as all of the other guests’ meals combined and he personally tastetested each dish during the planning to ensure that only the best was on the menu. belphie, similarly to levi, is allowed at any time to go to the other room should he feel his social battery is dead or if he just needs a power nap and even though he’s the exact opposite of strict, he’s very perceptive, so when he overhears something or sees something off, he lets satan know so he can take care of it (belphie was actually the only one to notice that a few bees had snuck in to try and pollenate with the flower decorations because the buzzing kept him from falling asleep).

diavolo is absolutely losing his fucking grip on reality but in the opposite direction of lucifer. the prince is so fucking excited he can’t stop grinning the whole day and his face hurts so so much, but he won’t utter a peep in the way of complaint. he’s more than willing to follow all of lucifer’s guidelines to a T (with help from barbatos) because luci is letting him help!!!!! he’s far too excited about straightening guest name markers and greeting the guests at the door.

barbatos is, as usual, cool as a cucumber but anyone who knows him can tell his polite smile is a bit bigger and for once he’s content to be a normal guest, only stepping in to help should he see an issue he can handle with extreme discretion.

the angels are both very happy for you both and luke has more trouble than normal trying to disguise his true feelings with a facade of disapproval for your marriage partner. much to lucifer’s chagrin, simeon is the officiant, writing special vows and a pronouncement that brings many to tears (especially dia).

solomon — again, to lucifer’s dismay — walks you down the isle, handing you off to your fiancé. although he may not like it, lucifer can understand that solomon, being your mentor, teacher, guide, friend, and fellow human, is best suited to give you away and if it makes you happy? then, damn it! you’re sure as hell gonna get it!

the wedding, despite everyone’s best efforts, still has a few hiccups: belphie drooled a bit on the tablecloth, beel was shocked in horror when you shove a slice of cake in lucifer’s face (your husband was too), and solomon somehow snuck a dish of… something onto the banquet table. but nevertheless, your wedding was perfect, and lucifer wouldn’t change a damn thing. every time he sees the light glint off his ring or you lean on the hand bearing his gem, his heart skips a beat remembering seeing you walk up the isle, say “i do,” and swear to love him for the rest of your life.

he doesn’t keep your marriage certificate with the rest of his important documents. instead, he preserves the paper with magic to ensure it will never fade or wrinkle and your signature will last until his vision starts to fail him, and then, he’ll still be able to trace his fingers over the groves of your name.

maybe it seems a little silly to the noble demons of the devildom to marry a human that won’t live a fraction of his own lifespan… and maybe it is, but lucifer’s okay with being a little silly as long as it’s for you and it will make you smile. the devildom is dark and cold and he’s long since forgotten what it felt like to live in soft embrace of the sun. your smile is far better at warming his cold heart than heaven ever was though. “the grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day,” you’d say, and he wouldn’t get it but that doesn’t matter to him in the slightest, because it’s true.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcannons #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x gn!mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x gn!reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x gn!mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gn!reader #grumpy old fart

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daddyhausen · 2 years

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• after hours - mjf •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18+ { minors do not interact } smut, ceo!max x fem!reader, exhibitionism, female masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, power dynamic, rough sex, umprotected sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, m + f orgasms, creampie

{ word count } — 1.5k

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

it was nothing out of the ordinary, just a simple meeting with your boss and a few other colleagues. that was just it. you’d done it a thousand times before, having gotten so used to the routine it had practically become second nature to you. but what it did not prepare you for was how flustered you’d become after the fact.

you had barricaded yourself in the bathroom stall, your shift had clocked off right when the meeting had ended so you did not have high expectations for people interrupting you. your mind wandered back into the meeting room, fading back to visions of your boss, the same suit he’d worn most times you’d seen it you'd practically smell the scent of his cologne, earthy with hints of cedar wood and pine, it resonated through your mind. the only difference being the absence of a tie, he had decided not to wear one today, leaving the first two buttons of his white dress shirt undone, leaving little to the imagination, little to your imagination his skin milky and soft underneath, like a blank canvas waiting to be painted.

you clenched your thighs instinctively, trying to hold in shaky breaths that forced themselves from your lip, wetness coating your panties as you remembered the way his eyes would often fall to your cleavage during the meeting, you’d intentionally worn a low cut blazer with no blouse or bra underneath for the exact reason, hoping you advances did not go unnoticed. if his gaze were accidental or not, you surely had gotten his attention. you quickly freed yourself from the tight pencil skirt, throwing it across your bag haphazardly, your panties soaked through just thinking about him again. your clit was sensitive to the touch as your fingers danced over it through the fabric, a quiet moan left your lips, body shuddering with delight at the sensation.

“fuck…” you muttered quietly to yourself, yet cursing your own voice just incase someone else decided to grace you with their presence. luckily you were in the clear after halting your actions for a few seconds to listen out. slowly you pried your panties to the side, a single finger swiping across your slick folds, imagining that it was your boss toying with your pathetic pussy, imagining his fingers teasing your clit, his digits roughly filling your up. you shuddered at the thought. you let two of your fingers fill you void, slowly beginning to pump your soaked cunt, wet sound reverberating around the small bathroom stall as you took your fingered deeper into your warmth.

“s-sir…” you whined softly, cupping your breast with your free hand, the sensation was not as strong since your skin was still covered. without faltering your speed, you freed your breast from the restraint of the blazer, the button popping open with ease, your perky nipples exposed to the brisk air of the bathroom. you took your nipple between two fingers, pinching and squeezing the hardened nub, whining his name softly. you could not help but let your moans flow, filling up the space of the confined bathroom stall, your hips moving in sync with the rhythm of your fingers, orgasm building as you imagined it was him pleasing you.

your breath became shallow, a thick pulse tightening around your fingers, you cried out his name with a euphoric moan, your sweet juices spilling across your soaked folds, coating your digits as a wave of release washed over you. it took a few moments to gather yourself, your breath was rapid and your pulse even more so. quietly you grabbed your skirt, legs shaking as you pried yourself back into the fabric. your panties too ruined to wear, quickly stuffing them into a plastic bag that you just happened to have inside your bag. you stood up, tucking your breast back into the blazer before leaving the stall, luckily it was just as you suspected, empty. you splashed your face off with water from the tap, having noticed the heat had risen to your cheeks, checking yourself one last time before leaving the bathroom.

your eyes peered around the office stalls for a moment, noticing no one left in sight, breathing a small sigh of relief you made a beeline for your stall gathering up the remainder of your items. turning your head you noticed the light in your boss’ office was still on, he sat calmly through the venetian blinds that had been left slightly ajar. you cursed yourself, hoping to god that he did not hear you. you tiptoed past his office, just about to reach the elevator when he called out your name.

“y/n, could you come see me in my office for a second. it’s not important, i just want to talk” fuck…you were really in for it now, you just hoped that your suspicions were proven false, that he in fact did not hear you masturbting to him a mere five minutes ago. you turned around sheepishly, keeping your gaze to the floor, having noticed that he had peeked his head out of his office door, staring you down. you entered his office, his presence behind you, eyes fixated on the way your plump ass swayed with the subtle movements of your hips as you walked. he held his position for a moment, slowly stalking around you, like a serpent poised to strike an unsuspecting mouse.

“i think you know why i called you in here, doll” he sat back against his desk, his bulge prominent in the suit pants he wore. you gulped thickly, trying to avert your gaze but you simply could not.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about, s-sir…” you finally were able to avert your eyes from his crotch, staring helplessly around the room, desperately trying to find some form of distraction. thighs clenching together once more, trying to ignore the wetness that was building between your folds.

“don’t play dumb with me, doll” he advanced towards you, standing over you like a beast despite the height difference between you two not being much. “don’t think i didn’t hear you toying with your little pussy before”

you gulp thickly feeling him stand behind you, his bulge pushing against your ass. a small gasp leaving your lips, gently pushing back against his size.

“i heard you moaning my name, i bet you were imagining my cock filling up your tight little pussy. is that right, doll?” he hummed deeply in your ear, earning another gasp to leave your lips. you muttered a simple you, fearing that more words were to spill if you were to utter any more.

“do you want me to fulfill that fantasy? make you my own personal fuck toy?” he growled, his fingers sneaking up to the zipper of your pencil skirt, toying with it. you wanted it so bad, having trouble vocalising your wants due to the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“y-yes…sir” as soon as the words left your lips, he began prying your skirt from your form. a shaky breath leaving his lips when he realised you didn't have panties on underneath. he chuckled at the sight, swiping a finger up your soaked folds, loving the way you’d whine and squirm at his touch.

“naughty girl, i bet you made a mess…” his fingers made their way up to your blazer, unbuttoning the material to free your perky breasts. he threw the blazer across the room, pressing you down against his desk, your ass in the air, pretty pussy on display for him. you heard the shuffle of his clothing, a thud hitting the floor signalling that he had removed them. he kept a hand on your head, keeping you from watching his cock as he slipped it into your cunt with ease.

“fuck..!” you cried out at his size, feeling his cock stretch you with wanted force, you moaned into his desk, his thrust rippling through your body, his moans so lustful, so greedy as he filled you to the brim.

“fuck, doll! i would have fucked you much sooner if i knew your pussy was this good!” he chuckled darkly, keeping a firm hand on your hip as he pulled you back onto his size with each thrust. it was everything you could have ever wanted, much better than your finger or any of your toys that’s for sure. you cried you his name, slamming your ass back against his movements, feelings cock stretch your cunt with ease. your pussy still so sensitive after having toyed with it yourself, your second orgasm on the horizon.

“sir…i can’t hold on much longer” you whined through breathless moans. “please…please let me cum”

“god baby, i want you to cum all over my cock. i wanna fill your little pussy up” he growled, deepening his thrusts as he felt your cunt clench around his length. you were so close, knowing you could not hold back, you let your second orgasm of the evening wash over you, a pulse resonating around his cock, edging him closer and closer to his release.

“f-fuck…” he groaned, his hot seed painting your walls white, he fucked you until your void was completely full of his warmth as he pulled out, he watched it seep from your dripping hole, down your slick folds and inner thighs.

“i might just give you a promotion after that, doll”

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#aew #aew smut #aew dark #aew rampage #aew dynamite #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #aew wrestling #mjf imagine #mjf #mjf smut #mjf x reader

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pedros-mustache · 3 years

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summer shower || domestic!din

word count: ~2.1k

warnings: smut (18+ only—get out of my kitchen): shower sex, body worship, brief oral (f receiving), p in v sex. also: weirdly emo, references to military service, language, x fem!reader

a/n: chucking this into the void because i am not Satisfied with it in the slightest and there is a ridiculous of me in it that i hate. but the people asked and this is what my fingers produced. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“You know, if we were somehow doused in harmful chemicals, all of us—and I mean all of us—would fit in this shower fine.”

You stumble in the hotel room’s narrow passage, the peculiar remark rendering you without equilibrium. Fingers still poised at your earlobe, heavy jewelry swaying between your grasp, you lean back to peer into the bathroom. “I’m sorry—what?”

You find your husband standing in the middle of the shower, arms extended at his sides. He swivels his head right and left, judging the width of the shower stall by his arm span. With a tilt of his head and a quick lift of his brows, he deems it acceptable.

You smile, pressing your shoulder to the doorframe, inspecting him inspect the hotel’s accommodations. His dress uniform fits him well, the navy suit pulled taut around his broad shoulders. His bow tie—untied as soon as the hotel door shut—hangs loose around his neck, and his chest weighs heavy with his decorations and ribbons. Captain Din Djarin, respected officer of the Air Force, somehow able to put on a regulation flight cap and still look fuckable.

You do like it when he dresses up for these yearly events—the galas and the charity functions, the parties that give you a weekend away from home, a weekend to yourselves. You do like it when he drags the dry cleaned suit out of the closet and you hang on his arm in a glitzy dress, the whole world slobbering at his feet, eating from his palm, for a single evening.

You just like it much better when he puts the uniform away. When he is simply... Din.

He drops his arms and glances at the rainfall shower head, pulling you from your thoughts. “Think about it: if the kids were here and a vat of nuclear waste fell on top of us, we’d be perfectly fine all jumping in the shower at once. Not a tight fit at all.”

Your lips can’t help but stretch into an amused smirk. “You’ve been watching too many superhero movies with Davin.”

“Maybe.” He steps out of the stall, and the glass door swings shut on a whisper. “But I can lay flat on my back with my feet pressed to one side of the shower and barely touch the other. And I’m six fucking four.”

Waving a hand, you cross the title floor, tugging off your heels as you go. “Whatever you say, dear.”

It’s late, almost three in the morning if your phone is telling the truth. You’re tired, full from a good meal, a little fuzzy from too much champagne. Your flight leaves early in the morning and then it’s back to reality. Back to baby diapers and Davin’s chess practices and Grogu and his new job at the hardware store. Back to push and pull and give, give, give until you collapse, delirious, on your bed each night.

Are you a bad mother if don’t want to go home quite yet? You aren’t sure.

You busy yourself with your nighttime routine: vitamins then medication, makeup remover then foaming cleanser, and so on and so on until your pocketbook runs dry. Din thinks the twelve step ritual is ridiculous, but after giving birth twice and parting ways with the youth and vigor you clutched through your teen years, you aren’t sure he understands.

You’re part way through step six—eye cream—when you feel him, tall and firm, slide behind your back. His hands skim down the length of your torso, pads of his fingers catching on the sequins of your gown. You lean forward undisturbed, dabbing the white cream beneath your eye, and he hums, pressing himself into your ass.

“I liked looking at you tonight,” he whispers, catching your focused gaze in the mirror. He pushes his palm against your stomach, his semi tucked between your cheeks, and plants a warm, wet kiss behind your ear. “You looked beautiful.”

Your face softens to a smile, and you lower your hands, setting the eye cream aside. “I liked looking at you. I always like it when you get gussied up.”

“Not about me,” he mumbles. He moves his hands to the clasp at the top of your gown, fiddling with it until you feel the halter straps release your neck.

“Well, it’s kinda about you. I mean, tonight was about recognizing your unit and—”

Din shakes his head and tugs the top of your dress downwards with one hand. A gasp pulls from the back of your throat, and you resist the urge to hide your bare breasts beneath your forearms. You duck your head away from the reflection of yourself—half naked and studded with a diamond necklace at your breastbone. You look like...

Fuck, you look like so much more than you are.

Even after all these years, the way Din eyes your body—so openly, so reverently—brings a certain heat to your most intimate places. You feel exposed before him, open and raw like a wound waiting for a healing bandage. He handles you with care, gently bringing his hands around to test the weight of your breasts in his palms. He nudges your nipple with his thumb, and you swallow hard, gripping the bathroom counter with manicured nails.

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you,” he continues. “Even when you were flirting with Vanth.”

Your jaw drops on an indignant frown. “I was not! I was—”

“‘s okay.” He drags his tongue from your earlobe to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. “I know you have a little crush.”

Shit, is it really that obvious? It’s just a harmless crush on a handsome man you see once a year. Nothing you would ever entertain. Din is your husband, your world, your...

Fuck.

Your heart slams against your ribcage, and damn, if your eyes don’t look misty. “Din, I—”

“Shush.”

He pinches your waist before shucking his hat and his jacket from his body. His eyes pierce yours in the mirror’s reflection, never once wavering, and you catch your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing the flesh there already picked raw with anxiety. You remain still, frozen under the smoldering intensity of his gaze, until he stands naked behind you.

It’s hard to breathe, hard to think, when he looks at you like this; and even though you know him better than anyone, he still manages to remain unreadable in the moments you desire clarity the most. The hard line of his jaw and the fold of his brow could mean any number of things, and you card through your rolodex of past events, past missteps and offenses, searching for whatever you did last time to make it better.

When he takes your elbow, you stiffen.

Din sighs, shoulders dropping. “Sweet girl...” Gently, he urges you to turn around, and you comply until the small of your back meets the cool countertop. He lifts your chin with his knuckle then gestures to the lower half of your gown. “Need help with that?”

It’s a dance, this moment, one you think you’ve perfected over the years. You surrender, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wiggles the gown over your hips. The fabric pools by your feet, and you kick it away, sealing your mouth over his. He kisses you—slippery and sweet and everything you need when your fragile walls tremble at the slightest upset. His hands mold over your body, pressing and massaging whatever flesh he can find. His hard length folds against your stomach, and you resist the urge to stroke him, make him happy through your touch alone.

Not about me, he said. You know well enough what he means.

Into the shower stall, where hot water fills your lashes and still he kisses you, his tongue an extension of the words he does not know how to form. You sigh, pulling away for a breath of steamy air. His skin feels slick beneath your hands, and you dip your head back, allowing him access to your neck. The diamond necklace, the one he clipped on before the dinner party, clicks against his teeth.

“So pretty.” He grabs handfuls of your ass, spreading the cheeks slightly until you feel your heat part. “God, you get me so hard.”

You whimper. It’s all you can manage when your head is so full of other.

“Sit back,” he says suddenly, an edge to his voice. “Sit back on that ledge.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder to the small ledge tucked in the shower corner. Din leans over and swipes the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner onto the floor. They clatter and slide against the slick tiles, rolling away to the opposite side of the stall, and then he’s pushing you by the hips, forcing you to sit, and spreading your legs before you have the chance to realize what’s happening.

He swipes his tongue over your folds—one quick, flat drag of the muscle over your wet cunt. You shudder, and he lifts his face from between your legs.

“I know you have a crush, pretty girl.” He slides a thick finger into your tight heat, and you choke on a groan when he crooks his knuckle.

“I know you get kinda giddy thinkin’ about seeing Vanth once a year. And that’s okay.” He leans down to tug your clit between his teeth; you bite down hard enough on your lip to draw blood.

“You’re more than a mom,” he says, and your heart stops. He kisses the left side of your cunt, dipping his tongue into your slick for the briefest, most glorious of seconds. “You’re more than my wife.” The same tender care to your right side, and you slide against the ledge, limbs weak.

“You’re a woman. And I love that.”

Din seals his mouth over your cunt, digging his tongue between your folds like a prospector at a goldmine. He dimples your thighs with his fingertips and cards his tongue against your body, searching for any nugget of wealth you may possess. He finds your clit with ease and focuses there, swirling the nub in erratic motions that keeps hovering you at the edge.

It’s strange. The tears that spring to your eyes are borne of sheer pleasure. Your husband kneels on the shower floor and eats at you like a man starved. How could you not cry? Still too, he sees you—he acknowledges you—and that makes you cry all the more.

Before the damn can burst, you jerk your hips away from his face. You slap his shoulder, sliding to your feet on the wet floor. The shower water runs tepid now, and your body chills where the showerhead cannot reach.

It doesn’t matter.

Din remains on his knees, staring up at you. You’ve never felt more...

Wanted.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, body buzzing. Alive. “Fuck me.”

He nods.

Notching his hand in the pit of your knee, he wrenches you forward.

You relax your legs and lower yourself to the floor, fully accepting the hard press of his cock at your entrance. Gripping his shoulders, you slide down his length until he is sheathed in your core. His mouth finds your chin, and you gasp, water catching in the pool of your mouth.

He begins a slow rhythm—forward and backward, forward and backward—until you all but bounce on his cock. It’s hedonistic, pornographic, and hard on your aging bodies, but he fucks you well and earnestly. He slams into your pussy, mumbling against your skin words that set your heart aflame.

How much he adores you—and loves his life with you—and how he regrets nothing. Not a single moment.

You cum with a high-pitched cry, dropping backwards to catch yourself on the floor when your legs spasm around his hips. The orgasm shreds through the heavy veil you drag by your feet, the one you wear from time to time, when you cannot find yourself amongst the forest of your own mind. You burst like sunlight, and Din follows shortly, his fingertips gripping your hips as he continues to slam—there, always there—into your cunt.

He slips from your body and drags himself to your side, pushing wet strands of hair away from your face. Shower water beats down on your skin, washing away the evidence of your desire for one another. Din doesn’t seem to mind; you don’t either.

He kisses your cheek, nuzzling his nose against your temple. “My girl.”

Your eyelids flutter shut, and you smile, holding fast to the forearm laid across your breasts. “Always your girl.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #modern!din #domestic!din #pm writes

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softboywriting · 3 years

Text

Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

#billy russo #the punisher series #the punisher #the punisher netflix #billy russo x reader #ben barnes characters #the punisher fic #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfic

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

Here

Characters: Dan Jones x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), mentions of sadness/depression, PIV sex, otherwise it’s the fluffiest fluffy fluff

Author’s Note: The last repost. A piece I wrote to work through my own issues at the time. A reminder to anyone, if you feel down, unhappy, or even just a bit flat, feel free to reach out to me. I will always make time for you as an ear to listen or a distraction with Oscar or Adam gifs 🥰

It had been a long and draining day. Not unusual really. Every evening Dan trudged up the stairs to your shared apartment, he felt much the same way.

Tired. More emotionally than physically. The things he read, the truths he was unravelling… It was truly soul-sucking work. Yet just the image of you, patiently waiting for his return home after another late night, provided a stark light in the darkness he found himself momentarily falling into as his muffled footsteps echoed down the hall.

He knew he was lucky. Lucky you were so patient. So understanding. Always waiting on him. Spending more time apart than together. The cancelled dinner dates, the events you’d had to attend alone, the weekends away you never got to plan, believing his work was more important.

There wasn’t a single time you complained. Always giving him the same loving smile, one he wasn’t sure how he deserved.

It wasn’t on your face when he slipped through the door. Curled up on the couch, knees hugged to your chest, you looked… sad.

Noticing his entrance, your expression quickly changed, beaming as your eyes locked with his. “Dan,” you breathed, a relieved edge to the name, releasing yourself from the tense ball and rushing to join him at the entryway.

The room was dim, air filled with silence as you slinked your arms under the jacket of his suit and around his torso, squeezing tight.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You don’t need to say that every night,” you urged, words muffled into his chest.

“I know.” He still would, no matter how much you protested. Stroking a palm over your hair, Dan touched his lips to your forehead. For a moment, he simply breathed you in. Relishing the flowered perfume still lingering on your skin that would forever remind him of you.

It was such an unexplainable phenomenon. How you eased his stress with a single warm embrace. He hoped he could do the same for you.

“Is everything alright?” he asked softly.

“Absolutely,” you lied, nodding against his crisp, collared shirt. “You’re home now. Everything is just fine.”

Dan couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of your response. But he also wasn’t stupid. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You shifted your head to look up at him. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

There was a redness around your eyes that became glaringly clear. Crying. You’d definitely been crying.

A thumb traced the line under your lower lid. “Please don’t lie. I have to deal with enough of those every day.”

Your mouth twisted, feeling your throat tighten. Unknowingly, he’d illustrated exactly why you tried to hide your sadness in the first place. He didn’t need your burden. He already had enough weighing on his shoulders.

But you also knew he wouldn’t let this go. The man was a bloodhound for seeking the truth, and the way he was looking at you now, features filled with heartbreaking concern, your resolve weakened.

Taking a deep breath, you were honest. “I’ve just been feeling a little… sad lately. Not a big deal. It’ll pass.”

Dan’s eyebrows drew together, heart already aching at your admission. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

You shrugged, pupils darting to the floor. “A few days. As I said, not a big deal. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Two palms quickly found their way to your cheeks, forcing your stares to lock. He looked almost panicked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’ve got other things that need your attention-”

“You think your sadness is not worth my attention?” he cut off, positively stunned at how casually you’d spoken your answer.

It’s what he’s always feared. This. Shielding him from the troubles in your own life while you joined in fighting his. Being his remedy, his source of comfort, while you struggled alone.

“It’s okay,” you attempted to soothe. “I can handle it myself, really.”

He shook his head. “No. No. You shouldn’t have to.”

Your fingers grazed lightly over the clean-shaven line of his jaw. “You’re so busy-”

The sentence couldn’t be finished, pulled into a squeezing embrace, hands cradling around you. “I will never be too busy when you really need me. Ever.” Breaths began to waft over your hair, Dan’s voice riddled with a gentle urgency. “And I’m here right now. Tell me how to make this better. Please.”

His caring hold had your resilience failing, unable to camouflage the misery you’d been feeling any longer. “I don’t even know h-how… What I need…” you quivered, voice starting to break. A sniffle escaped, barely able to suppress the urge to cry.

Dan wasn’t ever particularly good at solving problems. He knew that. Finding them, providing the support others needed to take action, that was his sweet spot. What he was good at. So that’s what he would do now.

The pressure around your body vanished, only for Dan to dip down and pluck you into in his arms, bridal style, carrying your body effortlessly to the bedroom.

His movements were cautious, making sure to place you delicately into the mattress. Without removing a single piece of clothing, shoes still on, he laid down, making your shape curl into his.

“We’re going to lay here for a while, okay? However long you want. You don’t have to talk. You can just… be sad.” Another kiss landed on the top of your head. “If you need me to do something, if you figure out what might help, I’ll be here. I’ll be right here.”

That did it. The wall you had been forcing to remain standing, now a crumbling pile of rocks, leaving you exposed. Vulnerable.

You began to cry.

At first, it was a soft weeping, tears wiped away by your own shaky fingers. Yet restraint withered into nothing, succumbing to the gloom that had haunted you for days.

Your breaths were harsh through heaving sobs, first clutching into Dan’s shirt, salted droplets staining the white fabric.

He couldn’t deny, it was painful to see you like this. To hear the whimpers of your distress. A slight wetness appeared at his corner of his eyes, clutching you closer. It was all he could do. Remind you of his presence, stroking your back as you let your emotions spill over.

As minutes passed into the next, your crying slowed, yet the quietness that followed was never broken. You both remained muted in the darkness, a tangle of limbs, your face nestled into Dan’s neck, his cheek resting over your hair.

Soon, without intention, the two of you fell asleep.

It was close to 3am when you woke again. Blinking through the haze of slumber, Dan rustled next to you, still fully dressed in his work attire.

Recent memories came surging through, the way he’d given you everything you needed, by doing nearly nothing at all.

Illuminated only by the light streaming through a set of half open blinds, your eyes wandered over his peaceful, dreaming face.

You didn’t get to see it as often as you liked. But when you did, you were infinitely grateful. Every long absence kept you savouring the time together more deeply. Quality over quantity.

A crackled snore suddenly broke through, having you fighting back a laugh. Dan shifted, still unconscious, turning closer into you, draping an arm over your waist. With a humming sound, you noticed a tiny smile curl his lips.

Oh, how you loved him.

You wanted to show him that, right now.

Carefully, you wriggled upwards, enough that you could press a dainty kiss just above the bridge of his nose. When he didn’t respond, you repeated the action, bringing your fingertips to his hairline, nails skimming over the inky strands.

You watched as his eyes fluttered, a sigh leaking from his throat. Before he could enter back into reality again, your lips landed on his, rolling over the supple pillows of flesh.

His reaction was sluggish, still gripped by a fog of fatigue, although soon his fingers were reaching into your hair, pulling your face even closer to strengthen your adoring kiss.

Words weren’t needed, Dan realised this as you began to unfasten the knot of his tie.

You’d figured out something he could do. Funnily enough, it was what he needed too. To make sure you knew exactly how much he loved you.

You’d done this dance many times, peeling off each other’s clothes. Yet this time felt… different. There was no rushing, no impatience. You both took your time, uncovering each portion of skin without reckless abandon.

With more exposure, Dan had more parts of you to kiss. So he did. Trailing them down your arms, your legs, his touch skating over your skin with such tenderness it made you shiver.

Eventually, the last piece of clothing that remained was your panties. Usually, being so desperate to fuck you after days going without, they’d be ripped off, sometimes even pulled to the side in his hastiness to fill you.

This time their removal was unhurried, restrained, Dan gliding the flimsy material down your legs with a calm poise.

Below, you noticed his touch disappear, looking up to see his stare roaming over your bareness.

So beautiful, he thought. Your body bathed in moonlight. While he wanted to speak it out loud, there was something poignant about the way the silence had continued to linger. He didn’t want to disturb it.

Instead, Dan covered your figure with his, skin to skin, scooping hands under you jaw. Another collision of your lips ensued, the exchange unabashedly passionate and filled an emotion too intricate to name.

Within an unspoken moment of harmony, Dan moved, lining himself to your entrance between your opened legs.

You’d been taken by him many times. In the bathroom stall on your first date. Over tables. On chairs. Floors. Kitchen counters. Countless times in this very bedroom. On this very mattress.

None of those scenes produced the same sense of satisfaction you felt as he sunk into you now. Not from the sensation itself, but the meaning behind it.

Words were fickle. They could be misconstrued. Altered by tone. Changed by moods and attitudes.

The way Dan began to thrust, steady yet severe, bruises being made from his grip at your back, kiss consuming your mouth and every facet of your thoughts…

There was no differing interpretation. No miscommunication. The definition explained merely by the feeling invoked from every action each of you made.

Two people. Expressing love in the most basal way in existence.

For a long time, longer than previous encounters, Dan worked himself in and out, relishing the feeling of your silky wetness, the whimpers he heard with each drag of his length.

Although, the feel of you clenching around him, when your thighs wrapped around his hips to to force his pelvis into yours with increasing intensity, soon had Dan struggling to stave off his release.

He didn’t ask to let it overtake him. Somehow, he knew didn’t need to.

Hurdling into a decadent climax, Dan drove hard into you, painting the deepest parts of your centre, filling you with everything he could give.

Slumping into your form, his nose burrowed into the curve between neck and shoulder. “I know I’m not always here,” he murmured. “But I’ll always be here. For you. Please remember that.”

Fingers swept over his messed hair. “I don’t think you’ll let me forget.”

One final kiss brushed over your throat. “Never again.”

@tlcwrites @roanniom @maryforyou @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @mylifeisactuallyamess @hopeamarsu @foxilayde @goddesstonythetiger @caillea @direnightshade @blackberries45

#dan jones #dan jones x reader #paper-n-ashes #adcu

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

Cherry Pie 🍒

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,181

Warning: SMUT!!!! a lot of sexy times. steve being a horny boyfriend. public sex, fingering, oral sex. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: you boyfriend, steve rogers is an insatiable little shit. but you loved it though.

a/n: this one’s for @nellblazer‘s “The 80′s Challenge.” i chose the song prompt “cherry pie by warrant” and when i read the lyrics, i immediately knew that i had to write something sexy with steve rogers based on the song.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

South Waren was a peaceful suburban city where most newlyweds migrate to, to start a new beginning, write on a fresh page and build a family life of their own. The tranquil community was one of the most innocuous and amicable districts in America.

Noiseless and serene; those are the most fitting words to describe the tone of the neighbourhood. Each morning, there would only be the chirping sounds of the birds, joyful giggles of the kids as their parents kiss them goodbye before they leave for school and the sonorous chitchats of the wives as they are going for an early jog.

But the rules were violated since you and Steve moved to the well-grounded town.

To say that you were a lovely pair of newlyweds would be an inadequate understatement. You and Steve were practically rabbits. Before you decided to tie the knot, you and Steve dated for two years until Steve surprised you with a stunning diamond ring as he got on his knees.

To the people that you pass on the streets or the waiters/waitresses that served you at a five stars restaurant, you looked like a normal, lovely couple. But to those who are unfortunate enough to be close enough to you both as friends, that they’d often go on double dates with you or attend major events together or those whom the devils targetted in red underline because they were ill-fated enough to live near you… May the heavens be with them.

You and Steve just couldn’t get enough of each other. There wasn’t a single day where you could spend more than one hour without leaving subtle touches and vamping glances on each other that would result in you both lying bare on top of each other, bathed in sweat and inebriating euphoria.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Thanksgiving last year, you invited Steve to celebrate the day at your parents’ house. On the dinner table, Steve was a refined gentleman, dressed in a plaid blue shirt. He brought a bottle of Beaux Freres Willamette Valley Pinot Noir from 2017 as he charmed the pants off your parents with his courteous manners and judicious words. He’d crack a few witty jokes that would effortlessly elicit laughter out of your sister and your parents.

But when the midnight lurks and when it was only the two of you in the tiny kingdom that was your childhood room, it was a whole ‘nother story.

Steve had you pinned beneath him doggedly as if you were nothing but a rag doll that he could mend and break whenever he wants. He sealed your moans with his palm as he vehemently pounded into you as you tried so hard to mute your cries, but you couldn’t any longer. Your parents’ room was literally next to yours and you’d be doomed if they heard the sounds of your moans and whimpers due to Steve’s brutal thrusts.

“Shh, you don’t wanna wake your parents up, do you?”

You felt like he was splitting your body apart with his enormous cock that was relentlessly moving in and out of you. Your brain was cluttered as you felt the tightening coil in your stomach. Your muffled wails grew louder as you held on to Steve’s dishevelled hair with your polished nails leaving fiery scratches down his back.

“I can feel how tight you are for me. C’mon, cum for me, baby. Cum for me now!” Just a few more deep-seated thrusts and the inflating bubble inside you burst. You were grateful to whatever disappointed God and angels in heaven, watching over you for Steve’s dexterous hand that was still swaddling the noises from your lips because you were practically shrieking and your whole body trembled. Steve kept going until he reached his own release and that’s when he lifted his hand off your mouth too.

He kissed you passionately, tangling his tongue with yours as he breathed into your parted mouth. Your drop of sweats mingled as your sticky bodies jumbled with each other’s warmth and remnants. He got himself off you then laid next to you in your small twin-sized bed. He pulled you close against his chest and you laid there with your labouring breath beginning to slow down.

“You just defiled my impeccable, childhood room.”

“We just did, baby.”

“But you coerced me into it.”

“Yeah, but you loved it.”

“I sure did.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You and Steve had this tradition every Friday night with your friends back when you still lived in Brooklyn. You would come to Barton’s Nest; a ramshackle Victorian pub owned by Clint, to have a drink and share a few tales and hilarity of the despair and the discrepancies the week had afflicted each one of you.

When the night got a little tipsy and you’d had a dozen of alcohol in your system, Steve would excuse you both from the table and drag you to the pub’s lavatory because he just couldn’t contain his deprivation of you any longer.

Steve loved you whether you were in baggy clothes or when you were dressed like a lady; a silk red dress with cleavage so low and a slit so high that it enervates him on the knees every time you so much as breathe, let alone when you rub your high-heeled foot against his leg.

But Steve loved you the most when you were like this; a petite tank top displaying your lovely shoulders and fitting high-waisted skinny jeans that suit you like a magician with a pair of gloves. You looked casually beautiful and he just felt the mighty urge to take you right there in the bathroom stall.

You were reclining on your hands against the sink as you threw your head back, your skull nearly hit the mirror, with Steve’s fingers down your pants. Your jeans had been pushed down, pooling around your ankles with your underwear still on as it got ruined with your dampened pussy.

His fingers deliciously stroked your clit before it moved lower to your opening and intruded your body with their lengths. His skilful fingers scissored your inside as you moaned in pleasure. The lust overclouding your mind, blurring your visions like fog on the mirror.

“Fuck, Steve…” You could feel your knees wobbling, and if he weren’t standing so close to you, you would’ve collapsed on the floor already.

“What is it, babygirl? My fingers fucking that cunt good, down there?” As he grazed the spot that erased all the memories and knowledge stored in your brain because it was so tantalizingly precise.

“So good, yeah…” You uttered breathlessly. You bit your lip, trying to suppress your cries, fearing that someone would walk by and they might hear you.

But Steve was a reprobate varmint. He couldn’t care any less about people hearing you both or knocking furiously on the door. He didn’t even bother locking the door. When he had you in this misty state, he was going to take his sweet time in toying with your body with whatever creative method he came up with at that moment and he was going to have his fun.

“Look at me.” With every control you regained over yourself, you opened your eyes to stare at baby blue ones that were a lot darker now; filled with desire and mischievousness. It was hard for you to keep your gaze at him when he was staring at you like this with his fingers unapologetically messaging your heated core, but you knew better than to disobey him.

“Look at you, you’ve only got a couple of my fingers in that dirty cunt and you’re already this fucked out.” Then he kissed you, only to leave you even more sloven. Tongue taking over your mouth, as if he was marking his territory.

“I can feel you clenching, babygirl. You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I’m- I’m so close, Steve, please…”

“You want to soak my fingers with your cum, is that it?” He teased.

“Yes, yes, daddy, please.”

“Go ahead, babygirl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You didn’t hold back any longer, you squealed in bliss, the adrenaline of fornicating in such a public place ignited your senses. You made a mess all over Steve’s hand as your knees wavered. When you had given Steve all that you had, Steve only smirked maliciously, loving to see you crumble beneath him. It made him feel powerful, like a king who had just claimed victory over a battle.

“There you go, so fucking messy.”

When your high started to come down, your hazy sight stared into his delinquent face, as he retreated his fingers out of you and wrapped them around his lips. “So fucking delicious…” His mouth made obscene sounds of enjoying the taste of your release, painting an even more erotic atmosphere in the lavatory.

You walked hand in hand after that to go back to your mates, pretending as if nothing hadn’t just gone down in the back of the pub. You sat with cum-drenched underwear in your jeans whilst Steve nefariously sipped on his beer and joked like a professional comedian.

Wasn’t the first time he washed his hands and got away with an impious crime.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

A drizzly Sunday evening, splatters of the rainfall clinging to your window; there wasn’t much to do other than being cooped up in your couch in your oversized sweaters and a mug of sweetened hot chocolate.

The tenuous sounds of the movie playing before you shepherds the individuals before the screen. It had been a week since you and Steve had officially moved in and it took you three days long to set every furniture and embellishment in the right places.

The ivory couch in the living room was new and clean until you and Steve decided to desecrate that too.

You threw your head back and laid it against the length of the headrest, with your legs spread wide open, resting them on Steve’s sturdy shoulders. Your fingers massaged his scalp, trying to hold onto him for dear life.

You were panting rapidly, not even bothering of containing your wails this time. Not when Steve’s face was caged within your thighs. You’d try to escape and lock them together but you couldn’t even if you wanted to anyway. Not when Steve was holding you down rigidly with his hands like this.

His tongue made lewd noises of lapping your sit hungrily like a famished man. The way his beard would tickle the insides of your thighs made your head spin like an accelerated carousel. Drops of sweat clung to your skin as it fell to your breasts, burning up the temperature in the room, despite the chilly weather.

Your stimulated sense tried to focus on the program playing before you, but you just couldn’t. You felt dizzy, your lips felt dry and you couldn’t think of anything else but the feel of Steve’s tongue sloppily sucking all the way up from your entrance to your clit.

“Oh fuck, Steve…”

Steve paused for a moment to look up at you. You were a salaciously picturesque sight. Covered in sweat, fogged with lust. Your lips were parted with your eyes closed. Your chest was heaving up and down and your breasts were displayed overtly above him. Your cold hard nipples were moistened with his saliva from his previous warmups before he moved to the more sensitive part.

Steve resumed his violation on your body, as his right hand levitated to your hardened nipple. He groped the globe and pinched your nipple as if it wasn’t stiff enough already. He loved taking you from every possible angle and he loved exploring your body in the most adventurous way.

What can you say? He’s a multitasker.

He slurped your flowing juices as your body kept producing due to his relentless devouring. He kept swallowing your sweetness until you fell apart. Your shrieks echoed against the walls, as you were engulfed in euphoria. You made a mess on Steve’s mouth but he didn’t mind one bit.

In fact, he loved it. He loved you raunchy and he loved you nasty.

“Oh fuck yeah, babygirl. You taste so fucking sweet. Just like cherry pie.”

After you regained your composure, you opened your eyes and lift your legs off his shoulders. You got up from your seat and switched places with him. As if he had nimbly memorized the cue, he took your spot that was still warm from your butt, as he spread his legs to make room for you who were now on your knees.

You immediately zipped down his pants and pulled it down along with his briefs, just enough to unfetter his throbbing member and let it sprung free in the air. He sat with his arms rested against the length of the headrest where your head was previously placed on, like a king on his cushioned throne.

The imperious look on his face only got you going even more. You licked your lips as you maintained eye contact with his lust-drunken eyes. “Time to return the favour, daddy.”

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years

Text

Kinktober: Week 1

Hisoka x Reader - Roleplay Headcanons

A/N: Idk why I turned this into some weird poem but please enjoy <3

Make sure to check out my lovely mutuals (@trash-writings, @hisokapegger @mynameseri for the rest of today’s Kinktober posts!)

Hisoka, as expected, is absolutely into this

And since he switches effortlessly into being the dominant one in the relationship to submitting to your every whim, it’s quite a fun transition

So of course, any time he whispers into your ear

“Who would you like me to be today, prince(ss)?”

You know you’re in for a treat

~~~

If you’re having a bad day, he might surprise you with a subservient role

Done as sexily as possible of course

There’s a particularly revealing ancient Egyptian servant costume he is partial to

Which really is nothing more than an elaborately decorated loincloth over that space between his legs

resting low on his hips so that you can see that V-line you love so much

And he massages your feet and fattens you up with grapes or whatever fruit he can feed you directly from his mouth to yours (that’s the most important part, of course!)

And carefully massages your skin with fragrant oils that smell of jasmine and myrrh while he kneels beside you in the bath

And calls you his Pharoah before he dives into you while you’re still submerged

And makes you moan and shiver

Denial isn’t a river in Egypt

You are his, whether you like it or not

Or sometimes, he wants a reversal of power

And now he’s a CEO (because what could be more ridiculous than seeing Hisoka in a suit and tie and behind some oak desk)

And you’re his dirty secretary that sucks at filing documents or answering calls

But knows just how to bend over for him,

Or open up your mouth wide for his always attentive second-in-command

And relieve his stress as he fits you in (or maybe you fit him in) between back to back board meetings

There is no business more pressing than pleasing each other, is there?

~~~

Sometimes you’re little Red Riding Hood

And the deep red of your cape blends in with the bloody tinge of your skin

As the Big Bad Wolf bares his teeth, biting and sucking at your earlobes, your neck, your nipples, your belly, down your limbs and every space in between

Hard enough to just break the skin but not as hard as he is

Before making quick work of the goodies you possess

Ramming into you fiercely at an animalistic pace like the woodland beast he is

Or can be...

My what big teeth you have, what big everything...

~~~

Sometimes he’s a magician, how cliché

And his act is seeing how far he can go to make you scream

To make you moan enough that your voice becomes the vanishing act

To see exactly what he can do with his cards... is he the King of Hearts?

Can he split you in half?

You know he can, but you also know (thank goodness!) he can bring you back together again

~~~

What if you were strangers that met at a bar?

He’d have to convince you to fall the same way you did so long ago

‘What is your name, kitten?’ he asks.

You play hard to get, but he wins, every time over and over again

How many drinks will it take for you to be with him? The answer is none, you were done the moment you met eyes...

(*** This particular scenario has gotten you far too ashamed to frequent many an establishment in your neighborhood. It’s hard to go out when every bartender knows what your cries of pleasure sound like, forcing their way out from behind the single bathroom stall)

~~~

Are you good study buddies? He would say so

But it’s hard to focus on calculus when you’re on top of him

Trying to stay still and not move

Paying close attention to the knowledge he tries to impart to you

As you cockwarm him while he tries to teach you how to find the area under the curve

The curve of your back? His dick? You forgot, concentrate!

If x is the pleasure you feel having him inside you, what is the limit as x approaches infinity?

~~~

Maybe roleplaying being newlyweds

Is a little bit of jumping the gun

Especially when you’re not sure you’ll ever marry

But you sure enjoy fucking him in dressed up white and black, saying your vows at the top of your lungs

As though you know for sure, he will forever be the one

I do, today and forever

~~~

When he is your photographer, it’s especially fun

Modeling everything from the highest fashion to your birthday suit

His enthusiasm as he snaps pictures of you in increasingly suggestive poses

Reminding you that you’re the most beautiful thing in front or away from the camera

Really does boost your self esteem

Can we capture this moment forever?

~~~

But of course the best roleplay

Is you two just being yourselves

Because you love Hisoka for Hisoka

And he loves you for you

And you wouldn’t have it any other way

#kinktober #fluff?#hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka morow x reader

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gh0ulbunni · 3 years

Text

Congratulations..

(Set 12 years after the Brotherhood and X-Men graduate and leave Bayville. Most of the Brotherhood such as Avalanche, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Blob, and Toad have become decorated SHIELD members by now, specifically Toad with his position as Nick Fury's attack dog. After high school in an effort to escape the poor life he once led, Todd has changed his name to Mortimer Toynbee. Not only has his name changed but his appearance has changed as well. His hair is no longer the greasy desaturated mop it once was, his skin gone from pale greyish ivory to pure ivory with splotches of light green and dark green marking spotting his cheekbones, arms, and back, his white schlera turning into a dark almost black green and his eyes turning a vibrant shade of green. Once dull and flat teeth are now sharp as razors with an even sharper and stronger tongue that can light on fire, with strength able to match Blob's, and much more toxic abilities to offer, Tolansky's life has certainly changed for the better... But it seems Summers hasn't. He's become controlling, aggressive, impatient, and quite ballsy in how he behaves towards those of a higher societal standing.. And after this meeting on the floor of the Senate with SHIELD and America's Senate, it seems Scott may be in for a wake up call from an unlikely aqquaintance..)

The sounds of shouting and uproar could be heard echoing throughout the Senate chamber as people tried to plead for order and civility.. Something it seemed Scott was not capable of that day.

His knuckles turned white as he stared at his reflection in the men's room mirror over the sink, vision skewed red by the very visor that gave him his code name, Cyclops.. But cyclopses were brave, and on that floor he wasn't. He justified Senator Kelly's proposal to have the government force mutants to identify themselves with a schoolyard bully's style of response for fucks sake! "Senator Kelly if you go through with this idea not only will you further divide humans and mutants but you will have multiple mutants like ME waiting at your front door to strangle the life at of you for proposing such a facist idea!"

And what a response that was. He thought back to his time in high school.. to the Brotherhood, and how what he stated sounded like a more adult and clean version of what those rugrats would've retorted! Scott couldn't believe he'd been so stupid to let that fly out from his mouth, the looks of horror and surprise from his teammates burned into his memory as they called from a break so he could collect himself and think up an excuse to cover his ass.

While he brainstormed excuses, the bathroom door flew open as a burly light brown skinned man with long dark brown hair burst in, quickly slamming the door behind him shut..

Lance. Had he come to shred into Summers just as Logan and Jean had done? Scott closed his eyes and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes, the dark bags evidence for his lack of sleep during these past few months after Xavier's retirement. Yes, he was a little delirious from sleep, maybe that's why he'd snapped at Kelly... He knew Lance of all people would be a little softer and more empathetic to his situation then Logan or Hank, so Scott quietly thanked his lucky stars as he couldn't handle another person yelling at him.

Lance's face, however, was twisted with cold worry and panic as he grabbed Summers by the arm and threw him into a bathroom stall. "Scott, buddy, you need to hide NOW!", Lance hissed, holding the door closed with his muscular frame while he tried to wipe the look of fear off of his face. Scott's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as he hadn't seen Lance so scared and worried since Apocalypse happened! But Lance continued just as Pietro and Wanda came rushing in. Pietro's hair was slicked back as usual, dressed in a white suit with a blue tie that accentuated his striking blue eyes, while Wanda wore a red pantsuit with a black blouse underneath, her now long and wavy black hair neatly combed back to show her face... Especially her now red eyes that were seething with anger and worry for Scott and the verbal rainfire he'd surely experience at the mouth of their froggy friend... Something she was sure Scott wasn't expecting. "Alright.", Wanda hissed, fists balled at her sides as her red eyes sent a shocking glare in the direction of the stall Scott had been shoved into. Even if he couldn't see her, the venom dripping from her mouth was greater then the venom her highschool self always spewed at others.

"What you did has to be the stupidest thing I've seen during a meeting, Summers. You're fucked, not at the hands of the government or SHIELD! No, you have Toad hot on your ass ready to beat some sense into you! So stay in that fucking stall and don't move an inch, don't breathe, don't make a single sound if you want to retain your dignity," Wanda continued, her hands glowing a bright red as she flung them around whilst she warned him. Pietro, on the other hand was uncharacteristically quiet... He was usually so loud and expressive, usually serving as Wanda's sassy back up when dishing out her venomous responses and tirades, but not today. Instead he leaned against the sink biting his thumb nail nervously. He too knew what Toad was planning to do, the man having gone from the smelly and obnoxious bloke with a small uneducated vocabulary to a man who could more then competently tear some apart both physically and verbally, all while maintaining a dead and cold look in his eyes that made people shiver.

The door to the bathroom crashed open as it was almost ripped off the hinges from the force, the desperate shouting of both Kurt and Fred audible in the background as Toad slammed said door shut once his slim frame had entered into the bathroom. Oh how he'd enjoy just eviscerating Scott's dignity!

Scott peeked over the bathroom stall gingerly, eyes widening as he looked at Todd.. Who'd gone from a short and smelly teen boy with desaturated greyish ivory skin and greyish brown hair and yellow eyes to a green and ivory skinned tall-ish man with rich brown hair and vibrant green eyes with off-black schlera.. Speaking of which, said eyes darted around the room before getting a glimpse of Scott's reddish brown hair peeking over the bathroom stall. Todd growled as he shoved past Lance and threw open the door, webbed hands reaching into grab Scott and drag him out angrily. Scott's back collided with the floor as Todd stood over him, vibrant eyes glaring down at him while his mouth opened to speak.

"To-" "Congratulations," He began. "You were so stupid, as in an 'open all the cages in the zoo' kind of stupid! But instead of cages it's the floodgates for purifiers and the MRD to come in and justify everything they do. Congratulations, Summers! You've put the institute at risk, you've put mutants at risk, and you just inadvertently gave our enemies in Congress and the streets an excuse to amp up their blatant racism! Jean asked you to take a break! Everyone asked you to take a break and you refused to! And for what? To protect your ego?!" Toad shouted, lips curling back to reveal that sharp fangs that had grown in place of his human teeth... Sharp teeth that could rip Scott's throat out if he so wished! Toad must've been exerting a monumental amount of restraint in order to not do so.

"I didn't mean to say that, ok?! It just flew out!" "Oh so you admit you're 15 year old me, huh?" "No! I'm just saying I didn't mean to say it!"

"Tell that to the purifiers who'll begin rioting! Tell that to the MRD who will soon start cracking down on us all because you thought you could shut down schoolyard taunts with a response so yeah, congratulations! You may not think it, Summers... But shit's bouta' get a whole hell of a lot harder for ALL of us! Not just you!"

@yee-honks

@amberallure

@comicgoth666

@thecozycryptid

@ohmygillygoshoppler

@thephoenixfirescout

COME GET FED

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 7

:3c

I exchanged @biodad-bruce-month‘s Day 7: Fashion Show with Fight!

Chapter 7: Fight

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Amira looked at the white board inside her walk-in closet, reviewing the new information she got last night. During last night’s patrol, Amira took a break halfway through, using the time to ask Tikki more questions regarding the miraculous.

They were earrings, which thankfully, can shift in design but can’t change its original form: earrings.

So here was Amira, sporting all black studs. Simple and hidden in plain sight. Amira also found out that the appearance of the earrings can always be changed as Tikki doesn’t have to use too much energy to do so. Therefore, Amira has been planning on changing its appearance after every akuma attack, an easy tactic to see exactly how much Hawkmoth himself knows about the Ladybug miraculous.

Next up, her yo-yo. Turns out that it’s more than just that. While it works as a tracker and phone, it only works when Amira is transformed. No yo-yo, no way to communicate with Chat. Because of this, Amira decided to get him a burner phone to make sure the two can communicate outside the suit. Will also help in case they have to communicate during an energy break while there is an akuma.

Her costume. Thankfully, Tikki had told her that it morphs into whichever design the holder has in their head. With more concentration on the design, the more the costume will have what the holder would want. After patrol, Amira made it her mission to get the utility belt in her design and after plenty of trial and errors, Amira got it.

Now she had smoke pellets, a taser, a small utility knife and a first aid kit at her disposal. Of course, the belt came with a price - her dagger.

Brushing out her hair, Amira looked at her reflection. She always hated having long hair. While Dick always told her that he liked her hair when it was long (because he liked braiding it for her), Amira never took a shine to having long hair.

It was a hassle to brush out, to clean. During track (even though she was only on the team for two years), Amira hated seeing other girls have their lucky amulets in their hair. A special pin or hair tie from their fathers and sometimes from their-

“-to Marinette!” Tikki yelled, snapping Amira from her trip down memory hell.

“Tikki, I live across the school. I won’t be late.” Marinette stated, continuing to stare at her reflection.

“I know that, but your phone has been buzzing nonstop!” Tikki said, showing her the multiple texts she was receiving.

Marinette took it, smiling when she saw they were from Wally and Dick, telling her to have a better day at school than yesterday’s disaster. “Are they from your friends?”

“You can say that.” Marinette said, tucking her phone into her pocket, looking at her reflection once again. “Tikki. Can you grab my fabric scissors on the table near my monitors?”

“It suits you.” Alya randomly told Marinette after the end of their first class. “Your hair, I mean. Don’t think I didn’t notice it.” Marinette simply blinked, wondering why people always said a compliment before bringing up their actual motives. “Name’s Alya-”

“-Cesaire. I know. Now if you excuse me, I have a class to get to.” Marinette filled in, getting up to leave, only for Alya to grab her wrist. “Let go.”

“Sorry!” Alya apologized, letting go of Marinette. “I just...I just wanted to tell you that you were a bit too harsh on Mlle Bustier yesterday. You should apologize.” Alya didn’t expect a scoff from Marinette.

“I’m not going to apologize for standing up for what I know is right.”

“Mlle Bustier-”

“-should’ve done her job correctly instead of enabling, especially now that Hawkmoth is a threat. But even with Hawkmoth out of the picture, Ms.Bustier shouldn’t have just assumed it was Ivan who instigated the argument. There’s always two sides of a story and we should always make it our job to figure out who is right. Sometimes, we even figure out why things happened the way they did. Sometimes, we find out we are wrong and when that happens, we have to accept it. If not, how else will we grow?”

With those words, Marinette gave Alya a little bow before going to her next class. Hopefully Marinette can find M. D'Argencourt during her break to try and convince him to let her join the fencing club...again.

“Well, that went easier than I thought.” Marinette told herself, walking down the school steps. M. D'Argencour had happily accepted her into the team, proceeding to tell her the team’s schedule.

While it took a while to hunt the coach down, Marinette was about to find him towards the end of the day.

“Why exactly do you want to know fencing?” Tikki asked her from the pocket inside her sweater.

“I just found it...interesting.” Marinette lied, knowing she couldn’t tell Tikki that her father never let her take up the hobby. While Bruce had allowed Jason to learn how to use a sword, Jason quickly dropped it. Dick was also taught how to use a sword, but he complained how annoying it would be to carry it around, hence the reason why he carries escrima sticks.

While fencing wasn’t the same, fencing will help her gain more skills she can use during her fights. You never know after all.

After greeting Tom and Sabine and squishing Bridgette’s cheeks, Marinette made her way to her room, only to find him in there...again.

“If it’s about the Miraculous, I’m still not giving it to you.” Amira said, throwing her school bag to the floor. She whispered the renouncing spell before reaching into her jewelry box, where countless dupes rested. Oh how she wanted to cackle when she saw her father look at her with wide eyes.

“Amira, hand them over.” Bruce ordered, stretching out his hand in hopes of Amira doing the correct thing.

“Why won’t you trust me?” Amira gritted, balling her fists. “Why don’t you trust me to do the right thing?”

“I do trust you.” Bruce said, taking a step forward. “That’s why I expect you-”

“I can’t just hand earrings over! The people need me! They need Ladybird to-”

“You don’t need to be running around Paris playing hero, Amira. Let Diana-”

“Must I remind you that I was given the earrings? It’s me who they want! Me! And no! I’m not playing hero! Hell, I’m not even a hero! I’m a vigilante! I’m doing what’s right by being Ladybird, by protecting the people the only way I can.” Amira reasoned, looking at her father. “And trust? Doesn’t that go both ways?” Amira set out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in. “After all, when were you going to tell me about Batgirl? About...the new Robin?”

How Amira wanted to scream when Bruce remained silent.

“How did you find out?” Amira scoffed.

“Find out? The whole internet was talking about it! My class was talking about just earlier today!”

It happened during break. Just as Marinette was leaving the class, she bumped into the second surprise of the day in the form of teen model Adrien Agreste.

Adrien apologized for the accident when Chloe pulled him into the class and began to ‘teach’ him what it meant to be part of a school. The only reason Marinette even remained in class at that point was because she heard Adrien talk about this being his first time in a school...meaning that up until now, he had been homeschooled all his life.

Kinda how like she was up until she was around seven to eight years old. But to be homeschooled until 13? How lonely he must have been. Especially when she heard he was the only child at home.

You’re really ungrateful.

Marinette stiffened, feeling her heart pick up in pace upon remembering Jason’s words. She already knew that...she knew, but was it wrong of her to want something else? To want to have something different than what she currently had?

As Marinette was fighting off the beginnings of a breakdown, Alya’s sudden burst almost triggered it.

“Since when did Robin come back to Gotham?!” Alya yelled, rising from her seat.

Marinette didn’t need to hear any more, running out of the classroom and locking herself into one of the girl’s bathroom stalls. While she hated having breakdowns, Amira was glad to have had one, as it helped her gained more insight on how Hawkmoth’s powers worked.

He can’t control you if you’re in the middle of an emotional breakdown and can’t register his words. In other words, he can’t control you if you’re already out of control.

Guess it’s good to know that if Joker were to ever come to Paris, Hawkmoth wouldn’t be able to take over him.

Amira looked at her father, awaiting for his response. “Under different circumstances, I would have forgiven you for replacing Jason with another guy. But it hasn’t been a year since he died and you’ve already replaced him.

You know how Jason felt, you know he lived with the fear of doing a single thing that would give you a reason to kick him out of the manor. And while you always assured him you would never do that, here you are, doing just that.” Amira watched as her vision went blurry, wiping them away as she collected herself again.

“I wasn’t replacing-“

“You were. You are. And not only have you replaced Jason, but it seems you’ve also replaced me.” Amira looked at herself. “Batgirl? Really? You know that was the name I wanted to use if you ever let me fight crime alongside you. Of course, that never happened.”

“Amira.”

“At this point, I don’t care what you do.” Amira gripped all the turmoil inside her. “Right now. I just want you to leave.”

“Amira.”

“Leave! I don’t want to see your face Bruce!” Amira yelled, shocking herself at her outburst.

Bruce? Why did it feel so wrong, yet so right? She tried it again. “I don’t want you anywhere near me Bruce, so leave! Just leave!”

And he did.

As she watched Bruce leave her room with a heavy heart, she slumped to the floor, standing back up when she felt something approach her. “Tikki!” Tikki appeared before her. “Spots on!” A second later, an akuma appeared before her, Amira quickly capturing it. Before letting it go, Amira quickly searched for a glass jar and a box in her desk.

She let the now purified butterfly go into the jar, surprised to see that it didn’t phase through the jar. So it was just a normal butterfly after all. When coated in magic, the magic allowed it to phase through whatever it wanted to to ensure that it made it to its target.

Calling off her transformation, Amira quickly got to work, carefully placing a tracker on the butterfly’s wing.

“Are you alright, Marinette?” Tikki asked, looking at her holder with worried eyes.

“I’m alright Tikki. I’m alright.”

No, she wasn’t alright.

The next day at school, Chloe tried to stick gum in her seat as a revenge plan for once again chewing out Mlle Bustier for allowing Chloe to interrupt the classroom with another one of her stupid excuses. Not to mention Chloe using her father’s position to get away with said excuse.

It didn’t help when Marinette was stuck with Alya trying to ask her about her past in Gotham and Alya claiming to be her friend.

They barely knew each other and this girl was already clinging to her like a newborn chick.

While Marinette tried to avoid her at all costs, Alya always found her, Marinette hating it. Didn’t she know about personal space?

Her week got worse when Chat accepted the burner phone but refused to be trained by her. Something about him not needing it.

Thankfully, she was able to vent to Dick and Wally, although more to Wally since Dick was busy with university.

Days went by and even then, Amira knew she was never going to adjust to life in Paris.

It’s only been four akumas and this city already thinks they saved the world.

While technically they saved Paris, Ladybird and Chat have yet to fight off a Victim that can become a potential threat to the world. Bubbler and Mr.Pigeon weren’t exactly the worst to deal with, but they weren’t the easiest to take down either. As for Stormy Weather and Lady Wifi, Ladybird realized that it was Victims like them who posed a threat to France. Victims with intangible powers were a force to be reckoned with after all.

But just because the duo saved Paris four times, it didn’t mean their work was done. They had yet to find out who Hawkmoth was.

Oh, did she mention the ridiculous statue they made in her and Chat’s honor because of the four Victims they took down so far? Long story short, she didn’t go to the ceremony and Chat must’ve told the artist something stupid because here they were. Fighting a Victim all thanks to Chat and his loud mouth.

“Chat! Stop trying to regain your honor and let me-” Ladybird yelled, only to get pushed back by his bo.

“No! This is my fight!” Chat hissed, attempting to land a hit on his copycat. Copycat grinned as he parried all of Chat’s hits, flinging Chat’s bo to the side when he saw an opening.

“He’s good.” Chat said, landing next to Ladybug as he retreated. Ladybird scoffed, gaining an arched brow from her partner.

“He’s good? Got some pretty low standards there Chat. Have you ever seen Nightwing in combat? This guy is nothing compared to him.” With that, Ladybird charged into the fight, picking up Chat’s bo and using it against Copycat.

The two fought, Ladybird noticing Copycat starting to hit her with less force, more sloppily. He was starting to become more aggressive, half of his hits missing.

“Chat! Switch!” Ladybird yelled, knocking Copycat’s staff from his hands and throwing Chat his own back to him.

With Chat distracting Copycat, Ladybird waited for the perfect- there!

Chat had launched Copycat into the air, Ladybird using this to wrap him with her yo-yo and slamming him down. Holding him down, Ladybird turned to Chat.

“Where’s his akuma?”

“Here!” Chat said, taking out a photo from Copycat’s pocket. Ripping it, it released the akuma, Ladybird unwrapping her yo-yo and capturing the akuma. Now purified and having the tracker implanted, Ladybird released the butterfly.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Ladybird watched as everything was returned and fixed. Turning to Chat, she glared at him. “I’ll be done here in a few minutes. Meet you at the rendezvous in a few.”

#maribat #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b!dbwm2020

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loove-persevering · 4 years

Text

I Can’t Take It (JJ x Reader)

Description: hii i love your writing!! could you maybe write for jj x reader where reader has an anxiety attack because of her parents treating her like trash or something? make it extra angsty pls

WARNINGS: ABUSE, SWEARING

Growing up you were always thankful for the things you had, the advantages you were given, the effort your parents put into making your life as easy as possible. Those things were all appreciated but never asked for, and most importantly never expected. You never thought of yourself as better than anyone because you had money, hell it wasn’t even yours to begin with it was your parents.

You were a kook and sometimes you were even ashamed of that word. You grew up in a nice private school that your parents paid a pretty penny for and saw first hand what the effects money did on children when they had easy access to it. People would do drugs, impulsively buy things, spend the money as if it was their own and that was a bad spiral to go down. In all the years you went to school in kook territory you never found a single friend that was genuine, that wasn’t so caught up in the thought of money, drugs, and themselves.

Then you met Kiara, who then introduced you to Pope, JJ, and John B. The most selfless people you knew, your best friends. The sad things was your parents didn’t know about them, you couldn’t bring them around the house because how they felt toward pogue kids. Especially kids like JJ who had a reputation for being a little reckless, even though you knew his recklessness mostly came from a place of defense.

Your parents sadly were skeptical of kids that didn’t come from the same type of wealth you did, it scared them. So when you’d head out with your real friends they thought you were somewhere else, you had made up names of people so they would never actually call any real kooks.

You were at midsummers tonight with your parents dressed in the most beautiful dress you could think of but you were absolutely miserable. You managed to sneak a glass of champagne off a waiter without him noticing and you practically down the whole thing in one chug. You set the glass down on a table wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, ‘’Not very lady like,’’ You mother says to you forcing a smile.

You immediately straighten up your hands pulling up the straps of your dress, you don’t need to say anything and you realize your father make his appearance right next to your mother, ‘’Were socialites why aren’t we socializing?’’ He asks through his smile.

‘‘You’re daughter is being a handful as usual,’‘ Your mother says and you bite your lip trying to hold back your anger.

‘‘Why don’t you go talk to your friends hunny,’‘ Your dad says gesturing over to Rafe and his friends, ‘‘Rafe’s always been a great kid, why don’t you go talk with him?’‘ Your dad says completely oblivious to the fact Rafe was not only doing hard drugs but a complete psychopath. You sigh making your way over to the group standing far enough away from them to remain off their radar.

You saw Pope from a distance helping out his dad and he offers you a kind smile from afar, it was nice to know you had at least one person that wasn’t a total douche around. You aimlessly try to avoid your parents the rest of the night and you eventually find yourself wandering around the halls of the house from the inside of the mansion midsummers was being held at. You were walking around a corner when a certain blonde haired boy runs into you, ‘’JJ,’’ You breath out a sigh of relief, ‘’You immediately embrace him in a hug, the last time you saw him he was in handcuffs but when you went back to the station later his bail had been posted. He doesn’t hug you back he just pulls away turning around panicked as if he was being chased. ‘’You’re face JJ,’’ You say reaching up to caress his cheek.

He takes his hands gripping the sides of your arms, ‘’I need you to stall,’’ He says breathlessly, ‘’Just stall for me okay?’’ He says pointing at you rushing into the mens bathroom. You turn around completely unaware of who you were suppose to stall that was until Rafe rounds the corner with a bunch of his goons.

‘‘Going somewhere?’‘ You say laughing, ‘‘Actually Rafe I’ve been looking for you,’‘ You say resting your arm against his bicep. ‘’You’re a hard guy to track down,’’ You say laughing lightly, he tries to move around you but you step in front of him blocking his way around.

‘’Move,’’ He says to you pushing you out of his way and you fall slightly your heels not helping your balance at all. The rest of the guys rush past you and you sigh taking off your heels wanting nothing more than the aching pain in your feet to subside. You were just about to enter the mens restroom seeing why JJ was running when you hear your dads voice.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ He voice seems to echo down the hallways. ‘’What the hell are you doing?’’ You hear him ask glancing from you to the mens restroom. ‘’Come on,’’ He says grabbing your arm pulling you back to the direction of the party.

‘‘Can you just wait a minute-’‘ You protest but he only jerks you harder.

‘‘They’re letting anybody into this party,’‘ He says rolling his eyes finally loosening his grip on your arm straightening his tie. ‘‘Why are you’re shoes off?’‘ He asks looking at you as if you were stupid.

‘‘I just- my feet they were hurting and-’‘ You stutter trying to explain to him.

‘‘Just put them back on,’‘ He says his face scrunched up in disgust his hand on the doorknob, he gives you a glare before stepping back out to the party. You sigh sitting down on a bench inside that was until you heard the once again another familiar voice echoing down the hallway.

‘‘Look man I can walk myself out,’‘ You hear JJ tell the man in the suit.

‘‘JJ?’‘ You call out, he glances up catching your gaze, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You tell the man but he still aggressively pushes him out the door. You stand up from the bench following them out, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You yell again now gaining the attention of the other midsummer guest.

‘‘I got lets. Can you see that Brother?’‘ JJ asks gesturing to his feet but you still followed in pursuit. The man just keeps pushing him through the crowd JJ making snarky comments in hope to mostly likely gain some sympathy so he wasn’t being so man handled. You run behind him still trying to get the mans attention away from JJ.

JJ takes a swig of a drink still being pushed out the door, ‘’He’s my guest! I invited him!’’ You yell following from behind.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You hear your moms voice call out from behind you. Your father surely not far behind. You ignore her call and keep moving forward only a few feet from JJ.

‘‘Let go of him! You can’t just boot him I invited him here.’‘ Kie yells out gaining the attention of those around her as well her parents protesting from behind her. ‘‘I’m a member of this club.’‘ She says.

JJ pushes the man who had been escorting him away pointing up to Kie, ‘’Hey mandatory power hour at Rixon’s Kie, Y/N?’’ He says looking back at you gesturing out of the party. You glance back noticing your fathers tall demeanor making it’s way through the crowd no doubt pissed to catch you caught up in it all. You glance back to him for a moment then back to JJ, he holds out his hand winking at you and you couldn’t help but smile knowing the only way this night was going to end up somewhat decent was if you took his hand.

You reach out grabbing his hand and he smiles pulling you into his side for a hug, he spins you around and while doing so you catch a glimpse of your fathers face, utterly pissed was a good way to describe it. You took a big gulp slowly moving on past JJ wanting to put as much distance from you and your father as you possibly could. Kie followed in pursuit of JJ and so did Pope you all practically ran off Kook territory away from your parents, away from the guards, away from any responsibility you had to upkeep at the party.

______________

When you arrived home later that night you had noticed all the lights off, John B was in the van JJ in the passenger seat. ‘’Good luck,’’ JJ says raising his hand giving you a salute. You smile trying to play it off but you knew all hell was about to break loose as soon as you enter your house. You walk up the back steps carefully your heels in your hand, the entrance to the kitchen was open thankfully and you slowly open the door trying to not make any sound. You make it inside successfully with out any loud sounds that could possibly wake your parents up, you let out a sigh of relief as you lock the door laying your heels next to the door carefully.

You walk through the hallway your foot upon the first step when you hear someone cough, you close your eyes knowing what was about to happen. ‘’What the hell was that tonight?’’ You hear your father ask. ‘’Who the hell were those people?’’

‘‘They were my friends,’‘ You tell him moving away from the steps so you were standing in front of the entry way of the living room. Your father turns on the lamp next to him and you wince at the sudden brightness.

‘‘Your friends?’‘ He says letting out a merciful laugh, ‘‘I’ve never seen those people a day in my life, hell two of them were the help.’‘ He says. ‘’Since when do you hang out with those low lives?’’ He asks.

‘‘Those low lives are the best people I’ve ever met,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You don’t even know the half of it.’‘ You say rolling your eyes.

‘‘I don’t know where this spunk of whatever the hell this is came from but it better be gone by the morning,’‘ He taunts, ‘‘Your mom was in distress the entire night, because of you.’‘

‘‘What if it’s not then?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘What if this is how I want to spend my time?’‘ You ask him.

‘‘We give you everything!’‘ He screams not doubt waking your mom up. ‘‘We give you everything you could ever ask for and you want to run around with the damn help?’‘ He says.

‘‘They’re my friends!’‘ You yell back finally raising your voice.

‘‘Y/N?’‘ You hear your mother call out and you glance up noticing her at the top of the stairs in her robe.

You glance back to your father who had gotten up from the chair making his way over to you only a few feet from you, ‘’You’re ungrateful,’’ He tells you. ‘’You don’t appreciate anything-’’ He begins to say.

‘‘That’s a lie!’‘ You groan back at him. ‘’You two are so stuck up on this damn high horse you don’t even see that I am around people I like!’’ You tell him. ‘’You think they’re below us because they don’t have enough money?’’

‘‘I think they’re trouble, and obviously they’re a bad influence on you. I mean look how you’re acting! And for what?’‘ He says his hand waving around him. ‘‘That kid was getting pushed out that you were so over the moon to follow was in jail this morning, did you know that?’‘ He asks you.

‘‘I did,’‘ You say simply. ‘’And for a good reason too.’’

‘‘You’re defending criminals now?’‘ He asks.

‘‘I’m defending my friend,’‘ You tell him staring him straight into the eye, ‘‘My family,’‘ You clarify.

‘‘Family?’‘ He says letting out a laugh. ‘‘You think those people are your family?’‘ He asks you.

‘‘They’re more of a family than I’ve had in years.’‘ You spit out. Then all of a sudden it happened your hand instinctively reached up to cup your cheek where your fathers palm had just hit. You felt the tears in your eyes as you held your hand against your face. Your father had never hit you before, ever. You could hear your mother coming down the stairs but by the time she had gotten down you had made your way back down the hall and running out the back door.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You heard your mother yell from the door. You kept running, your body was at a high as if you were running on full adrenaline. Your knees felt weak as if they would give out any second but you could only hope they would get you where you wanted to go, the one place you felt like you needed to go.

_______

Sometime later you arrived at John B’s house, you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed by the time you got there. You walk up to the window knocking on it gently a few times your hands were shaking you weren’t sure from if it was how cold you were or if it had something to do with the slight pressure in your chest. It takes a few knocks before you finally see the light turn on in the bedroom and a few seconds later the blinds fly up exposing JJ his hair a mess and his clothes all messed up from sleeping.

He was rubbing his eye when he noticed your state, immediately waking him up. He holds up a finger to you and you nod your head watching him walk out the bedroom door, the light on the porch turns on and JJ comes stumbling out over to you. ‘’Hey, hey.’’ He says rushing over to you pulling you into a hug. You didn’t bother hugging him back you just stay still allowing him to embrace you. He pulls away slowly from you his hands gently touching the sides of your arms, ‘’What happened?’’ He asks.

You open your mouth but the words fall short- JJ looks at you and you feel his hand come up wiping away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. ‘’I just-’’ You start but can’t finish and you feel your self gasp for air slightly. JJ wraps his arms around you pulling you into his body the warmth felt good on your cold skin.

‘‘You’re freezing,’‘ He says, ‘‘Come on.’‘ He says guiding you inside.

‘‘Woah,’‘ John B says coming out of his room noticing you.

‘‘I got her,’‘ JJ says to him and John B just stares and watches. ‘‘Give me a minute alright?’‘ He says walking you into his room and you take a seat on his bed. He wraps his blanket around you and tells you he will be right back and when he leaves you could hear him and John B outside the door.

‘‘What happened?’‘ John B asks.

‘‘I don’t know she just showed up here like that, fuck.’‘ He sighs.

‘‘Did you uh-’‘ John B pauses, ‘‘Did you see her cheek?’‘ He asks.

You don’t hear an answer to that, but a few moments later JJ comes barging back in the room which makes you jump a little, ‘’Sorry,’’ He says shutting the door with his foot and making his way over to the bed. ‘’Can you tell me what happened?’’ You close your eyes shut forcefully shaking your head, ‘’Alright, alright.’’ He sighs.

You let out a shaken breath before you look up at JJ concern was written all over his face, ‘’My dad,’’ You sigh. ‘’He just-’’ You try to explain once again but fall short.

‘‘Hey you don’t have to talk,’‘ He tells you wrapping his arm around you. ‘‘You don’t have to say anything,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘You’re safe here.’‘

‘‘That’s why I came here,’‘ You tell him looking up offering him a small smile. ‘‘Could I borrow some clothes?’‘ You ask him quietly not wanting to bother him more than you already had.

‘‘Oh yeah,’‘ He says standing up from the bed. He rummages through his drawers and finally hands you a t-shirt of his and some basketball shorts. ‘‘I’ll just step outside-,’‘ He says awkwardly making his way over to the door shutting it.

After you had finished changing you walk over to the door slowly opening it and JJ turns around his face still laced with panic, he looked relieved when he saw you weren’t still crying. ‘’I’m done- you can come back in now.’’ You let him know. He nods his head opening the door more, you watch as he grabs a pillow of the bed and a blanket, ‘’JJ?’’

‘‘Yeah?’‘ He turns around to face you immediately.

‘‘Could you stay with me?’‘ You ask him, ‘‘If you don’t want to that’s fine I just-’‘ You begin to say but he cuts you off.

‘‘Y/N, of course.’‘ He says offering you a small smile. You smile back at him making your way onto his bed and he goes to turn out the light and you feel him slowly crawl into bed next to you.

‘‘Thank you,’‘ You tell him finally feeling calm enough to talk. ‘‘I was scared you wouldn’t answer,’‘ You let out a small laugh.

‘‘I’ll always answer for you,’‘ He lets you know. ‘‘Did your dad hit you?’‘ He asks.

‘‘Yes,’‘ You answer immediately and you hear him take in a deep breath. ‘‘He’s never done it before,’‘ You let him know. ‘‘It was the heat of the moment, I was just pushing him and-’‘ You let him know not really sure as to why you were defending your dad.

‘‘Nobody should ever hit their kid,’‘ He says simply. ‘‘Especially you.’‘ He says.

‘‘I don’t know if I can go home, face him again I mean.’‘ You admit to him. ‘‘This feels more like home than any other place,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You feel like home too,’‘ You tell him.

‘‘Me?’‘ He asks shifting in the bed on his side so now he was looking at you. He had one hand under the pillow and the other resting on his side.

‘‘Yeah, you feel like home. You make me feel safe.’‘ You tell him offering him a smile. And although you couldn’t see him fully you could tell he was smiling too.

_____________

A/N:

I LOVE ME A SOFT JJ FLUFF EVEN THOUGH THE BEGINNING WAS TENSE

THANKS FOR SENDING IN THIS REQUEST!

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow imagines

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calmlftv · 4 years

Text

red dress. - a.i.

description: it’s a group date night and you decide to wear ashton’s favorite dress, and you very quickly remember why it’s your favorite, too. *inspired by red dress by MAGIC!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: basically pure smut, light choking, unprotected car sex, use of kitten as a pet name, slight praise & daddy kinks.

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton

***

“Sweetheart, are you almost ready to go?”

Ashton’s voice floated over to you, the man standing in front of a mirror as he closed the buttons on his sleeves and straightened his tie, his eyes moving to you as you stepped out of the bathroom.

Ash almost groaned at the sight of you, tight red dress hugging every curve and black heels making your legs look absolutely fantastic. Your hair was flowing over your shoulder, lips painted red as you pulled on a black leather jacket.

“All set!” You said happily, pressing a quick kiss to Ashton’s cheek before wiping away the lipstick mark. You stepped back and took his hand, smiling as your eyes traveled down his body. “You look so handsome, baby.”

Ashton’s eyes were still taking in your figure as you spoke, his hand spinning you around as you giggled.

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his hand sliding against your back as he pulled you in for a deep kiss. You hummed against his lips before pulling away, taking his hand off your back as you felt it moving lower.

“Nuhuh,” you said gently, squeezing his hand before dragging him out of the bedroom. He groaned in protest while you giggled. “We’re already late, we gotta get going!”

Ashton sighed and followed you out, both of you grabbing keys and wallets before leaving the house together and making it just a tad bit late for your dinner with your friends. The two of you strolled in hand in hand, the rest of the band and their significant others sitting at a table waiting for you. Everyone at the table got up to greet you both, the last two empty chairs being taken as you all settled back in and started chatting immediately.

The meal was amazing, as usual, and everybody was having the best time possible. About halfway through the meal you excused yourself to use the bathroom, getting a text almost immediately after locking yourself in the single stall bathroom.

Did you wear that to make me crazy? Ashton had asked you, a smile on your lips as you got a follow up. Hope you know I plan on ripping that off when we get home.

Definitely wore this to drive you a little wild. Also, I’m not wearing anything under it. Xo

You locked your phone with a satisfied grin, handling your business before exiting the bathroom and sitting back down next to your boyfriend. He was smiling and laughing, always being better at hiding his arousal from people around you as you mercilessly teased him for the rest of the night. His hand rested on your thigh and slowly inched up throughout the rest of the night, only to be pulled away as he slipped it under your dress. You did the same action with him, your fingers brushing over his length through the pants he wore and then pulling away, your smile never faltering; it was like a game to see who would back down first, and you were totally winning.

At the end of the night Ashton quickly said his goodbyes, pulling you along as you waved to your friends. They all chuckled after you, but you paid it no mind, instead focusing on Ashton and the half tent building through his pants.

Once you were both in the car he leaned over, pressing his lips against yours as his fingers grazed your throat. You sighed at the touch, wishing he could keep his hand there he pulled away.

“Had fun teasing me tonight?” He mumbled, the question pulling a giggle from you.

“Maybe a little bit,” you answered coyly. “It’s fun to see you hide it in front of our friends.”

Ashton smirked, settling back in his seat. “When we get home, you’re in for it,” he play threatened, his voice a bit deeper than normal. A chill ran down your spine at the sound. “Behave yourself on the way there, princess.”

You smirked. “I don’t know what that word means.”

Ashton chuckled and rolled his eyes as he started driving, his hand resting high up on your thigh. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, something that always made you a little bit crazy. On occasion his fingers would inch up, eventually brushing your core as you held in a whine. You were wet, regretting your decision to go commando as he felt you. Subtly you adjusted, opening your legs and moving your hips enough to make him feel his impact on you. He cursed, eyes scanning the sides of the street until he found an empty parking lot to pull into.

He quickly parked and moved to the backseat, you following suit as you scrambled over the center console. He pulled you on to his lap, your thighs straddling his hips as his lips crashed into yours. His fingers pushed up your dress harshly before dipping into your core, taking you by surprise as he pushed two fingers into you and started pumping them.

“Fuck,” you breathed, pulling away from his lips. He moved down your neck, your fingers tangling into his hair as his fingers moved. You moaned as he curled them inside you, his thumb circling your clit as you became putty in his hands.

“Always so wet for me, kitten,” he groaned, his hand reaching up to grip your throat again. It was gentle, his calloused hands limiting your air supply ever so slightly as you moaned. “Such a good girl.”

“Ash,” you managed, his eyes meeting yours as his thumb pressed against your lips to silence you.

“Shh, kitten,” he breathed, his fingers continuing to move within you. “Come for me, baby.”

His praise and adoration in his eyes coated his voice, the pet names mixing in with the feeling of his fingers as he watched you reach your peak, your orgasm pouring out of you as he kept moving his fingers. He pressed kisses to your shoulders as you came down, your thighs twitching slightly as you came back to earth.

His fingers that were inside you moved to your lips, your mouth opening and tongue swirling around them as you tasted yourself. His free hand reached between the two of you and unbuttoned his pants, his erection escaping as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

“Do you want to feel me, kitten?”

You nodded to his question, pressing your lips against his quickly before you slowly pumped his length. He groaned as you lined yourself up with him, letting his head drag across your core before you slid down slowly. Your voices let out moans, the sounds mingling together as you moved your hips against his, his erection filling and stretching you in all the right ways while you moved.

Ashton’s hands rested on your hips, your dress pushed up your stomach while he gripped your skin, no doubt leaving small half moons and bruises for him to care for later. As you picked up your pace you met his eyes, your fingers tugging his hair as he hit your sweet spots over and over again.

Eventually he squeezed your hips, signaling to you that he was taking over as his hips snapped up into yours. You let out a moan, your free hand grabbing the seat behind him as you moved along to his pace.

“Feels so good,” you whined, your movements swirling all together as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach reach its peak.

Almost on cue, Ashton spoke. “How do you want me, baby? Want me to pull out?”

“No,” you begged, the tone only pushing Ashton closer. “Inside me, please daddy.”

The name you only used for these situations flowed out of your lips, Ashton groaning as he snapped his hips again. The feeling sent you over the edge, your mouth gaping open as you moaned his name. Hearing you say his name like that sent Ashton over his edge, the two of you coming together as you slowed to a stop.

Your legs twitched as you laid against Ashton’s chest, your high and his covering the car in silence for a few minutes as you gathered yourselves together. After a couple of minutes of silence you both came back down, Ashton’s hands gently helping you off of him. You adjusted your dress as Ashton fixed up his pants, his hand tugging you back against him as he kissed you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled against your lips. He moved to your forehead and pressed a sweet kiss there, your breathing finally returning to normal. You looked around and giggled, the windows having fogged up a bit from the two of you having sex in the backseat.

“Guess we should get back home,” you breathed, smiling at your lover as he pressed sweet kisses to your skin. His lips kissed the sides of your neck where his fingers were not too long ago, his usual routine of making any bumps and bruises better.

“We should,” he agreed, hands traveling to grab your ass and give it a squeeze. “Still gonna rip this dress off when we get there.”

You grinned. “Good.”

Ashton chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips, the two of you moving back to your previous seats and heading home. The rest of the night was spent going a few more rounds before you collapsed into a cuddle pile, giggling and teasing until you both fell asleep.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurbs #ashton irwin smut #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #blurbs.ai

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kinglazrus · 4 years

Text

A Helping Hand

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @trainernick: Lancer telling Danny he knows his secret and admitting trying to help him throughout high school (maybe at prom or graduation) - wholesome found family

Summary: Everyone says prom is supposed to be one of the best nights of Danny's life. And even though he wrecks his suit, ditches his date, and gets attacked by Skulker, it sort of is. But not for the reasons everyone says it should be.

When Lancer sees his student feeling low, he does what he can to make sure Danny knows there are always people rooting for him.

Hurt/comfort

Word count: 3923

People like to talk about milestones. They divide their lives into neat little segments and mark the years with special occasions. First steps, first words, first day of school, first car, first kiss, first job. Lots of firsts. They're important. But they aren't the be-all, end-all of those experiences. People keep talking after their first word. They keep walking after their first steps. They continue to learn, and drive, and kiss—if they're into that sort of thing—and work, and work, and work until that's all they ever do.

The firsts matter, but they don't matter so much that you can never do any of those things ever again.

Some milestones can't be repeated, though. Or, at least, people build them up so much and make such a big deal out of it that even if you can repeat it, it'll never be the same. They make it sound like if you do it wrong then you'll never get to do it right. That's how Danny feels about prom.

It doesn't matter how often he tells people there will be other parties, that this won't be the only time he ever dances with his peers, that this won't even be his only prom because he probably won't be able to graduate this year. Prom is big. Prom is important. Prom is special. He has to do it right or else he'll never get to do it again.

Danny tries his best.

He gets a date, one of his best friends, Sam. It takes him a few weeks to ask her out, because he can't figure out how to do it. He wastes hours writing out what he wants to say. Four days before prom, he sees Sam in the middle of a ghost fight, grinning like mad, hoisting a bazooka on her shoulder, ectoplasm stuck in her hair, and Danny blurts the question out right there because holy shit she's beautiful. It totally throws all his careful, romantic planning out the window, but she still says yes.

He gets a suit. Black jacket, black shirt, purple vest, purple tie, because he thinks Sam will like it. She calls him a dork as soon as she sees him in it, which means she does like it, very much so. He gets a corsage of blue poppies for Sam's wrist, to go with his boutonniere. He gets Jazz and Dani to watch the city for the night so that nothing will distract him from the dance.

He does everything he can to make sure he does prom right. But, in the end, he still gets in a ghost fight.

Danny leans his head back against the wall of the shower stall in the boys' locker rooms. His lungs burn, his body aches, and his knuckles are bruised. The water's turned up as hot as it can go. It succeeds in getting the worst ectoplasm out—cold water would have set the stains—but now he's completely soaked, and his suit is still ripped.

Looking down, he catalogues the damage, both to his body and his rental suit. A gash on his right shoulder to go with the torn seam of the sleeve. The left sleeve is ripped from cuff to elbow, his cufflink lost somewhere on the street outside. There's a matching slice in his arm, stretching from his palm around to the outside of his elbow.

The cut stings in the hot water, same with the wound on his shoulder, and he should probably take care of both before he loses too much blood. But he has a couple minutes to spare.

His pants got out of the fight okay, minutes a little tearing on the knees, the skin beneath scraped and red. He doesn't think the store is going to take the suit back.

There's a knock on the stall door and Danny lifts his head. Through the foggy glass, he sees Tucker.

"You good, man?" Tucker asks.

Danny swallows, glad he doesn't taste blood. Skulker really held nothing back today. He calls back, "Yeah, I'm good. Suit's a little torn, though."

"Why'd you fight in your suit?" Tucker asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"I think Skulker borrowed some of Vlad's tech. He shorted out my powers for a little bit, but," Danny raises his hand and forms a swirling ball of ectoplasm in his palm, "they're back now."

"Okay. Lancer's doing a headcount. I told him you had gone to the bathroom just before Skulker showed up, so I'll let him know you're safe."

"Thanks. I won't be long."

Tucker's silhouette does finger guns and he clicks his tongue twice, then leaves. Danny waits until he hears the locker room door closing before he stands up. The ectoplasm in his hand turns blue, its temperature dropping a few degrees, and he drags his palm along the cut on his left arm. Ice seeps over the wound, sealing it shut and stopping the bleeding. It also works fantastically at numbing the entire limb so it doesn't hurt to move.

After rotating his arm a few times, testing its mobility, he does the same to the gash on his right shoulder. It's only a temporary measure, until he can get home and get Jazz to help stitch him back up. Sam and Tucker used to be in charge of doing that, but Jazz is by far the better seamstress, and leaves fewer scars behind.

Danny shuts the water off and heads toward the lockers. Rather than going for his own locker, he stops in front of Tucker's. Danny usually has extra clothes for emergencies like this, but he used them last week and hadn't brought them back since. Tucker keeps a few spares, though, because of the last few times Dash and Kwan stole his clothes while he was in the shower.

Turning his hand intangible, Danny sticks it through the locker door and grabs a shirt from the top shelf. When he pulls his hand out the shirt unfurls, and he stiffens.

"You've got to be kidding me," he says. It's a black button-up shirt, which is perfect. But it's also covered cartoonish pictures of Danny Phantom's face. Reaching back into the locker, he tries to find another, but this is the only one. He could use his gym shirt, but he needs the long sleeves to hide his left arm.

With a groan, Danny strips, laying his jacket, vest, tie, and shirt out on the benches. He and Tucker are around the same size, so the shirt fits, for the most part. It's a little tight across the shoulders and bites into his skin when he bends his arms, but it'll do. As long as he doesn't get into another fight and tear this shirt up, too.

Danny pulls his jacket and vest back on, although he does neither up, and drapes his shirt across his arm. With his left hand facing down, you can't even he's injured. Minus the scrapes on his knees, but if anyone asks, Danny will just say he tripped running away from the ghost

When he exits the locker room, Danny looks left and right, checking to make sure the hallway is clear before slipping out. His wet shoes squeak on the floor, and water drips from his hair onto his nose. He probably should have tried drying off. Especially since the water from his jacket is now seeping into Tucker's shirt. But, Fentons are stubborn, and Danny's already on his way back to the gym.

Prom posters featuring smiling members of the dance committee stair down at him as he walks, silently judging him. Their blank eyes follow his every move. Somehow, Danny feels like he's failed them.

He expects the dance to be back in full swing by the time he makes it back, because Casper High is just like that sometimes, but he couldn't be more wrong. The music has stopped. No one's dancing. There's a massive hole in the outside wall, letting in the cool night air. A wave of shame rolls through Danny as he remembers he did that.

His gaze drifts up to the ceiling, where there's another, smaller hole. That's where Skulker burst through, shouting about the glory of capturing his prey on such a momentous occasion. Seconds later, Danny blasted him through the wall and took off after him. Without even a single glance back at the chaos he'd caused.

Paulina, Star, and other members of the dance committee hustled about, directing people to help with the cleanup so they could get things started again. City protocol said to wait for an official cleanup crew, but this was prom, damn it, and Paulina wasn't about to let a couple ghosts ruin her chances of getting crowned queen.

He finds Sam and Tucker quickly. They're helping Elliott move one of the larger chunks of concrete. The front of Sam's dress is covered in dust and her corsage it crushed.

Another wave of guilt pushes Danny out the door. He backs into the hallway, gives the ruined dance one last look, then turns and heads for the front door. There's no point sticking around and risk ruining things even more.

The cold air and his wet clothes shill Danny to the bone when he gets outside, but he doesn't mind. The benefits of having an ice core means he can weather the cold better than most people. But, being half-human still, he's not infallible. Danny sits down on the front steps, slipping his hands into his pockets, and sighs. Maybe he should just go home.

Since Danny doesn't have his license—he never had time, with all the ghost fighting—Tucker gave Sam and Danny a ride. So, if he does leave, he won't be abandoning Sam without a way home. Going for a fly sounds pretty nice right now. There's not much he can screw up when he's miles above the city. Although, if anyone could find a way, it would be him.

The only thing he can ever seem to do right is fight ghosts. It's not too late to make a career out of it. At this point, it's basically his job already, and it'd be nice to get paid for it. Maybe the G.I.W. are hiring.

Danny laughs. It's a bitter, self-deprecating sound.

"They'd probably cut me open first," he tells the open air.

"Modern Prometheus, Mr. Fenton, that's quite the accusation."

"Holy sh–" Danny jumps, nearly toppling off the step, and whips around to see Lancer behind him. "Mr. Lancer! Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Checking on my student," Lancer says. "I wasn't satisfied with Mr. Foley's assurances and wanted to make sure you were safe myself."

He steps forward and looks down at Danny, frowning. "Are you... dripping, Mr. Fenton?"

"Uh." Danny glances down at his soaked clothes. "I fell in a puddle."

"While you were in the bathroom?"

"I went for a walk and then fell in a puddle."

"It hasn't rained in three weeks," Lancer says.

"So crazy, right?" Danny chuckles. He silently wills Lancer to go away, preferring to be alone right now. Instead, Lancer does the complete opposite and sits down next to Danny.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks.

"What makes you think that?"

"I've worked with teenagers for a long time, Mr. Fenton. I can tell when things aren't okay. And I think, by now, your tells are somewhat obvious to me."

Danny refuses to meet Lancer's gaze. He's probably the last person Danny wants to see right now. Not because he hates Lancer, but because he cares too much what Lancer thinks. While he didn't like the man much during freshman year, things changed over time. Lancer started actually believing in Danny. He's the only teacher who never gave up on him, who always had their door open.

Lancer even leant Danny his ear on more than one occasion. Danny tried to avoid this as much as possible, but there were some things he just couldn't talk to his sister or friends about. And Danny's willing to admit, although somewhat grudgingly, that he's become attached to his English teacher.

"Prom's ruined," Danny finally says.

"Is that so?"

"I mean, yeah. Sk– uh, that big metal ghost dude kind of crashed the party. And then Phantom fucked it all up."

"Language," Lancer says. He gives Danny a critical look. "Why are you blaming Phantom?"

"He kind of destroyed a whole wall. He could have just, I don't know, thrown the ghost back through the hole that was already there?" If only Danny had thought of that at the time. But in his desperation to not ruin prom, he went ahead and ruined prom.

"I think Phantom did a fantastic job," Lancer says.

Danny gapes at him.

"Yes, the wall was damaged, but no one got hurt. And your classmates are displaying wonderful teamwork skills by clearing out the debris so the dance can go on. It wasn't Phantom's fault the ghost decided to interrupt," Lancer says. "Although I have to say, it's extremely lucky of us that he was so close by. In fact, it was almost like he was there before the ghost arrived."

Lancer smiles. Something about it puts Danny on edge. It's a familiar smile, a fond one. It's the smile he gives students who do exceptionally well. It's the smile he gives Danny when he does well.

"Oh, yeah. That's really lucky, yep. Must be because of how often the school gets attacked. I mean, if I were him, which I'm not, I'd probably hang around the place that gets attacked the most, too," Danny says, a little too quickly. He was cold seconds ago, but now he's uncomfortably warm.

"Which you're not," Lancer repeats slowly. His gaze is intense and critical. Danny can only bear to meet it for a few seconds before he has to look away.

He tries to distract himself, looking at the cars lined up along the street. There are a few limousines amongst them. Danny would bet his ghost half on one of them being here for the A-listers', who came together as a group rather than bringing dates. There were so many cars already parked by the time Danny and his friends got here that Tucker was forced to park his old Camaro around the block.

It's a pretty nice car, despite how old it is. A hand-me-down from Tucker's dad, they fixed it up together, making it good as new. Danny tries to picture doing something like that with his own dad. Jack would probably deck the car out in ghost weapons and stamp the word "Fenton" across it.

They could call it the Fentonmobile.

"Danny," Lancer says.

The use of his nickname gives Danny pause. Lancer never calls him Danny. It's one of his most frustrating traits. Every student is always Mr., Ms., or Mx. As annoying as it is, Danny can't deny that it feels nice at the same time. Like Lancer actually respects them as people, doesn't look down on them the way most adults do.

After everything Danny's been through, he thinks he warrants a little basic decency.

Lancer continues. "I know."

Everything stops. Every thought in Danny's head comes to a screeching halt. He stares at Lancer. Maybe he heard it wrong. Maybe he doesn't mean what Danny thinks he means. But the longer Danny stares, the longer Lancer stares right back. At first, dread fills him. His secret is blown. This is it. The G.I.W. are on their way.

That dread quickly drowns in a tidal wave of relief, because Lancer knows. And he isn't hurting Danny, or calling him a freak, or doing anything.

"You know," Danny repeats in a breathy whisper.

"I know."

Danny slops backward, burying his hands in his hair. He lets out a soft laugh. "You know. How long?"

"Almost three years now," Lancer says.

Danny's stunned into silence. Three years. That's nearly as long as he's been a ghost. He had his accident a couple months into freshman year and started fighting ghosts a few days after that.

"I," he pauses, "am a terrible liar. Aren't I?"

"I'm surprised you've lasted this long," Lancer says.

Danny laughs sharply. Sitting back up, he turns to face Lancer proper, running his hands through his hair again. It's a nervous habit he's never been able to kick. "What gave it away?"

"Your first weeks at Casper High, I thought you were a talented student with a lot of potential. You managed average grades on your first couple of assignments, but I could tell you were struggling in the environment. Not a fan of classroom learning?" Lancer asks, quirking his eyebrow.

"It's hard to focus. Sometimes," Danny admits.

"But you managed. And then you disappeared from school for two weeks. When you came back, your grades plummeted. I blamed it on the stress of your accident, at first, which I excused. But then your delinquent behaviour started."

Danny winces. He knows exactly how he looks to other people. A problem child, skipping school, not doing his assignments, barely studying. Coming to class with bruises on his knuckles. Tetslaff tried to "set him straight" once. She said some good physical activity would help him channel his issues and convinced his parents to sign him up for volleyball.

Tetslaff kicked him off the team after his third missed game.

"To me, my students are my children. I want to see them succeed in every way they can, and do what I can to make that happen. In that way, I failed you freshman year. I'm ashamed of how I reacted." Lancer pauses. He looks away from Danny, tipping his head back to search the sky instead.

Danny wonders what he's thinking. He wishes he knew.

"I'm even more ashamed of the fact that if I hadn't seen you transform, I might not have changed my attitude at all."

"You saw me transform," Danny deadpans. First Jazz, and then Paulina—although she was possessed at time, Danny still counts it—and now Lancer. How many times is this going to happen? He asks, "Where?"

"Here, at school."

Danny sputters in disbelief. "What?"

"You were in the middle of the cafeteria, Danny. You stood on a table and cried 'I'm going ghost.' I'm surprised more people didn't see you," Lancer says. He shoots Danny an amused grin.

Danny blushes, burying his face in his hands. "I thought it was cool," he mumbles into his palms. It made him feel like a superhero. Until he wizened up and stopped shouting out warnings to every ghost within earshot.

Lancer had a point, how did people not see him more often? Maybe there's an entire cult in Amity Park of people who have seen Danny transform. They could call themselves the Phentons. Or the Fantoms. Or the Keepers of the Great One. Frostbite would probably like that last name.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Danny asks.

"Because I think you need to know there are people on the sidelines who are willing to help you, who have helped you, even if you don't realize it."

"How do you mean?" Danny already knows he has people looking out for him. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam always have his back and they've helped him more than he can ever thank them for. He's going to miss Sam and Tucker next year when they move on to college and he's stuck repeated senior year.

Lancer reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, he smooths it out on his knee and passes over.

It’s a schedule for April, May, and the first week of June. Two dates are circled. April 18th, today, and June 4th, the graduation day. The weeks between are full of markings. Squinting at the thin writing, Danny reads "Packet One: Biology" written over next week. Skipping over the rest of the schedule, he finds "Packet Two: History," "Packet Three: Applied Math," all the way up to "Packet Six: English" the final week before June. They're all classes Danny is taking this year, including ones he already failed last semester.

"What is this?" Danny asks.

"A study guide, of sorts. I spoke to the other teachers about your grades. Because of 'special circumstances,'" Lancer makes finger quotes, "they agreed to give you a chance to redeem your grades. You did well on your exams overall, but it's your course work that failed you. Each of your teachers has put together a packet of bonus assignments that, if you finish successfully, will earn you a passing grade in each class."

Danny's breath hitches. "You mean..."

"With any luck, I will not be seeing you again in these halls next year."

Danny's eyes burn. He lowers his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. He tries to stay quiet, because the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of a teacher, but he can't help it. The tears won't stop. A few gross sobs fight their way through his hiccups. Lancer rubs Danny's back as he cries, a soothing gesture.

"Thank you," Danny says, as soon as he can gather the breath for it. He wipes his nose on his sleeve and shoots Lancer an elated grin. "I hope I don't see you here next year either."

Lancer smiles in return. "We could head back, if you'd like. The dance should be starting up again right about now. Ms. Sanchez certainly knows how to whip a cleaning crew into action. I never expected such leadership from her."

"I did kind of ditch Sam," Danny says. He hopes she's not too mad. "But I kind of need to take care of something first."

"The ghost? I always did wonder what you did with them after capturing them in your... lunchbox?"

Danny laughs and shakes his head. "It's a thermos. But, no, he'll be fine in there for a while. I actually, uh," he trails off. Sheepishly, he pulls back his left sleeve and shows Lancer his injury.

"The English Patient, Mr. Fenton, you need medical attention!" Lancer shoots to his feet, digging his phone out of his pocket.

"No hospital!" Danny shouts. He scrambles up after Lancer and covers his phone. "My body's different. They'd notice something. I just need some stitches and my healing will take care of the rest."

"That's reassuring, I suppose." Lancer lowers his phone. "I have keys to the nurse's office, and I'm no slouch with a needle."

"Oh. I can just take of it myself, at home. Or get Jazz to do it."

"Nonsense, Mr. Fenton. What kind of teacher would I be if I let you go home in that state?" Lancer beckons for Danny to follow. He only hesitates for a second before complying.

Danny doesn't want to see Lancer in these halls again, but he certainly hopes graduation won't be the last time he ever sees the man. It's nice, knowing there's another person out there who has his back. Someone who can give him a stern word when he's being stupid, and a helping hand when he's lost. It's almost father-like, now that Danny thinks about it.

He stares at Lancer's back and thinks. Lancer looks the kids of Casper High and sees them not just as students, but as his children. Danny doesn't mind looking back and seeing a parent instead of a teacher.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom #phanfic #hurt/comfort #cross-posted on ao3 #tumblroneshots

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thatssokatsuki · 4 years

Text

I Do Adore || Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader Song: Mindy Glandhill - I Do Adore Summary: A normally calm and straightforward todoroki finally surprises you with one of the most romantic of gestures. Warnings: fluff Word Count: 1,492

Everything you do it sends me Higher than the moon with every Twinkle in your eye You strike a match that lights my heart on fire

Todoroki is a relatively quiet boy, and very straight forward overall. He is really really sweet but hes also not very good at the surprise romantic gestures. He always either tells you first, or asks something that gives it away, however its really really endearing when he tries. The happiness that shines in your eyes when he presents you with flowers or anything else he gives you is enough for him to keep going and keep trying. Today is another day in which he tried again, without trying to tip you off either. He went out to the floral shop earlier that day, picking up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and once he got home, he out them in a vase to keep them alive until it was time to finally to go pick you up. He then goes into his room and spends the next handful of hours preparing. He picks out the suit in which you said you had loved the most, fixed his collar, and debated putting on a tie. Just as he was looking them over, he decided it would be better to just leave the top button undone and wear the matching vest instead, skipping the jacket anyways, although he decided to at least bring it along incase you got cold. On his way out the door he slipped something into his pocket and quickly patted down the flower stems before tying a beautiful red ribbon around them.

When you're near, I hide my blushing face And trip on my shoelaces Grace just isn't my forté

A soft knock taps on your door just as you were putting on your shoes. You called out that you’ll be there in just a moment, hopping over trying to put your shoes on at the same time. You knew you should’ve started getting ready sooner, but you were honestly stuck on what color theme to do that you just kinda.. lost track of time. You managed to get your shoes and step down onto both feet right before you opened the door to find your softly smiling boyfriend holding both hands behind his back. He stated that you looked absolutely breathtaking, and you had returned the compliment in kind before accidentally tripping as you went to step out of your own door. He went to catch you, revealing the bouquet he had hid behind him. He held you close and chuckled to himself as your face turned that soft shade of pink that he loved so much. You stay there a moment, not wanting to move due to your embarrassment, hiding your face into his chest. He makes no move to remove you either, finding it both adorable that after all this time you still get embarrassed and flushed around him. You eventually manage to pull away, saying something about not wanting to be late.

But it brings me to my knees when you say Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore

He just smiles in response, making sure to hand you the flowers that you had briefly forgotten in the moment prior, smiling brightly as you bring them to your face, closing your eyes as you smelled the sweet and floral scent radiating off of the flowers in hand. This was pretty routine, but you still loved it every single time. They were arranged a bit differently this time, but you just figured he had wanted to switch things up a little like he does every few months. You give him a sweet kiss before heading to the car, leaving him to be the one blushing this time around. You looked back and giggled at him before walking back and grabbing his hand and drag him along. He finally snapped out of it at the doors, and proceeded to open yours for you so you could get in. Once you both are situated in the car, you place your flowers down in the backseat of the car and plug your phone in to play some music. You hit shuffle and almost like fate, you were hit with a mix of sweet love songs, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself hearing your beautiful voice singing along next to him.

We're as different as can be I've noticed you're remarkably relaxed And I'm overly uptight We balance out each other nicely You wear sandals in the snow In mid-July I still feel cold We're opposites in every way

It became apparent in this moment just how different the two of you are. Your singing and dancing along to the songs, whereas, despite the growing smile on his lips, he has a relatively cool demeanor overall. That is what everyone said made your relationship so perfect, though. You had brought him out of his shell and got him to try wild and crazy and new things,, where he had brought you back to earth and helped you be at least a little less reckless. To everyone around you, it was obvious how much opposites really do attract, and how much love was truly shared between the both of you.

But I can't resist it when say Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore

An hour or so passed once you reached the restaurant, and you both had a wonderfully good time just talking over food and wine, oblivious to the hand he would sometimes drop underneath the table. You typically thought nothing of it as he typically had a habit of adjusting his shirt or vest when wearing something that wasn’t more casual. What you didn’t realize, however, was in those brief moments, he was making sure the small box hadn’t escaped his pockets. Once dinner was finished and paid for, left overs placed in their respective boxes, and those boxes placed into the car, you both had decided to walk around the night market nearby for a while. You had taken him by the hand as you walked and checked out as many small stalls as you could, sometimes buying something that would remind you of eachother or something you thought would just be cute around the house. He had wondered off for just a moment, and you had assumed he had simply went to the bathroom until a few moments later when you felt someone place something on your head behind you. He had then hugged you and mumbled into your shoulder that he thought you were already beautiful as you were, but he thought the small crown he had placed upon your head just a moment ago would only add to the beauty he had already seen. You giggled and reached up, touching the ornate piece gingerly before turning around to kiss him.

Finding words, I mutter Tongue-tied, twisted Foot in mouth, I start to stutter Ha, ha, Heaven help me

A few minutes later had found you both standing near a decorative well that was in the middle of the park in which held the gorgeously lit shopping area. The moon was glowing above brightly, adding an extra romantic flair to the evening. You sat down on the ledge, wanting to rest your aching feet for a moment, when your normally relaxed boyfriend seemed to become a bit more jittery. He had taken your hands in his and kissed each finger tenderly, causing you to blush and giggle to yourself, caught by surprise by his actions. You were caught even more surprised as the calm man from just minutes ago nervously got down on one knee. Admittedly you were confused, not really knowing what was going on until he had pulled a little black box out of his pockets and began to fumble a bit over his next words. He briefly talked about how much he had truly loved you and how grateful he was to have you in his life and how, if you would let him, he would be forever grateful to have you there next to him for the rest of his life. He paused for a moment as you had gone to cover your mouth, tears of both joy and shock starting to fall from your glistening eyes. He then took a deep breath and looked up at you, and asked a fated question in which you were already nodding your head in response too. “Will you marry me?”

Hello, how are you, my darling today? I fall into a pile on the floor Puppy love is hard to ignore When every little thing you do, I do adore

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha fic #mha fic #todoroki fic #bnha fluff #mha fluff #todoroki fluff #bnha imagines #mha imagines #todoroki imagine

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obscureoperations · 3 years

Note

yeah.....!lol was thinking of patrick fucking martin....

Hold on.. hol on... Hold on! Nah! You cant be doing shit like this. 🤔😂I mean I had no idea how I could make this work. I decided to be an ass and ignore other asks just to see if I could get this going. I did, But it’s shit imo. I tried. and now here we go!😬

Patrick was so livid, he was on the verge of tears by time nine thirty rolled around. They had been waiting for their appetizers for almost an hour. He was at least relieved for the liberal amount of drinks. He had finally swung a reservation to Dorsia, the hottest restaurant around--it only took him a little over two months. The second he entered the place he was slightly underwhelmed. It was nice… but he already preferred the atmosphere of Del Posto.The lighting was dim, a large chandelier hung in the main hall, the music was faint and ambient. It was a reservation for six. Himself, Evelyn, Bryce and his date. Luis Caruthers and Courtney Rawlinson. He swirled the last of his j&b around in his glass before he downs it with a visible wince.

“God Patrick… maybe we should just leave. I’m sure they’ll give you a refund.” Evelyn huffs

“No.. we’re staying. I didn’t stay on that fucking waiting list for two months for us just to up and leave.”

Bryce began to laugh as he downed the rest of his martini, he was already beginning to go off on one. Patrick almost wanted to pull him aside and demand that he get his shit together. He’ll be damned if he gets them all kicked out. Instead he whistles through his teeth getting the man’s attention. He tapped his left nostril twice, gesturing over to the bathroom. Bryce seemed to immediately sober up.

“Excuse me… I’m going to go find that waiter.” Patrick said as he rises from the table.

“I’m… gonna go head to the bathroom…” adds Bryce.

Evelyn rolls her eyes. “Just say the two of you are gonna go do a line. The way you’re acting, it’s like you want to run off together.” She quickly fishes a cigarette from her purse, before turning her attention to Courtney. Patrick briefly runs his fingers through his hair, straightening his tie as he turns to leave. He brushes his hand over his inner jacket pocket to feel the large serrated knife firmly in place. By the time that they left, he would have to find their waiter..Matthew? He couldn’t remember the kid’s name. All he knew was that he had embarrassed him in front of his friends. He would take care of him quickly enough in the alley.

The two men practically power walked their way over to the bathroom, nearly running into someone as they turned the corner. It was that kid.. The waiter, who clutched a menu to his chest--apologizing profusely with wide brown eyes.

“You…” Patrick sneered.

“I-I’m sorry for the delay sir.. The kitchen is extremely backed up.. W-were short staffed. Feel free to order all the drinks that you need, they’re on the house.”

“Oh, you can bet that we will…” Patrick growls, stepping in closer. Each syllable is punctuated by a sharp jab to the young man’s chest.

The boy shrunk away at the blatant abuse, as color rose to his face. He continued to stammer his apologies as he kept his eyes averted and the menu nearly slipped from his grasp.

Bryce finally pulls Patrick away and into the bathroom, laughing to himself under his breath. “Fuckin kid… he’s practically begging for it.”

“What?” Patrick asks as he absentmindedly eyes his reflection in the mirror-- adjusting his tie and tilting his head. His fingers prod at his jawline. No carbs tonight…

He can hear Bryce snort obnoxiously behind the stall “Ah. god… That’s the shit right there…”

Patrick couldn’t help but roll his eyes. If anything he craved a cigar himself. He began to riffle through his pockets.

Bryce emerges from the stall looking refreshed although a bit ‘squirrely’. He runs his hands through his already slick hair, adjusting his collar in the mirror. “Alright man… wooh! Lets go…”

“What were you saying about that kid a few minutes ago?” Patrick asks absentmindedly.

“Huh?”

He begins to do a half hearted jig in the mirror, pointing at himself obnoxiously. Yeah that’s right… He was already planning on bagging his date.

Patrick grits his teeth, as he presses his hand against the knife. This is Bryce...jesus Patrick..calm down.

“You said something about that kid.. The waiter.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely checking you out. You shoulda saw the way he was leering at you when he replaced your drink.” He shudders dramatically “It was weird man…”

Patrick could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a fine sheen of sweat forms across his brow. He knew he wasn’t imagining the way the young man looked at him as he continued to apologize profusely. He was frightened, that much he could tell. Patrick always tried his best to portray an intimidating image. The fear, for both his physical well being and the security of his job. But still, there was something else. The boy’s eyes darkened just a bit. Martin! His name was Martin.

“Whatever…” Patrick mumbles as he washes his hands at the sink,the plan already formulating in his head. He had fully intended on getting the kid fired, if not just outright gutting him in the back alley. But now a different sort of idea formed in his brain, one that might be even more rewarding.

It was less than five minutes after the two of them had resumed their seats that Martin returned with another waiter. Martin held the appetizers, the man behind him held the main dishes, the two of them swiftly began to arrange the plates on the table. Not a single mix up, each of the appetizers matched the dish and the owner. As the two waiters began to leave, Martin shot Patrick a final apologetic glance.

He was cagey, he barely even touched his steak, he only picked around at the kale and arugula salad. His mind was racing, they were all supposed to visit a club nest, how would he be able to politely excuse himself? He still couldn’t decide if he wanted to wait for him in the alley and take his frustrations out the easy way. The large serrated knife felt like a lead weight in his pocket. He bet he was even more beautiful when he was bleeding.

“So Bateman, you’re gonna tell me, you spent all your money on this shit--and you’re not even going to eat anything?!” Bryce laughed already reaching for his plate.

Patrick grips his wrist like a vice. “Touch any of it, and you’ll draw back a stump.”

Bryce yanks his hand away, quickly loosening his tie. “Hey calm down there buddy… what no Shiatzu this morning?”

“Evelyn… ask for a doggy bag or something… I’ll be right back.”

“Patrick!” Luis calls.

“Excuse me…”

Patrick managed to slip into the employee area with an ease that he didn’t expect. He grabbed an apron off a rack and tied it around himself accordingly. He even slipped on a spare face mask. In his suit and tie, he could easily be mistaken for a health inspector. He scans the hallways which for the most part appear completely empty. A door swings open and his back presses against the wall. Two large burly men carry a large slab of meat--probably a cow back to a set of double doors. He was about to step forward again, when the doors burst open. Two women wrangle a cage full of live chickens between them, following the men into the back room.

So. this was Dorsia

Patrick was just about to turn back and meet up with his friends at Levels. He should probably just let it go. Evelyn probably had a few too many and decided to take an uber home. He could schmooze with Bryce for about an hour. Get Luis too shitfaced to drive home. Then it would be just him and Courtney. That was his plan after all.

Any plans or rational thought seemed to slip from his brain the second Martin crashed in through the doors. Large silver plate in hand, it rests right up on his shoulders, he nearly drops it before placing it on the ground. He surveys The strange man’s appearance. He looks so familiar, his heart starts to race

“A- are you with the health department?” He asks. The hairs already begin to stand at the back of his neck.

“No...silly” Patrick begins to laugh as he simultaneously removes his face mask and draws the blade from his pocket. The large brandished knife seems to glint in the light. For a moment, Martin catches a glimpse of his own reflection. He instantly bolts down the hall, Patrick cusses beneath his breath as he tosses the mask to the ground.

He was quicker than he expected. Patrick was actually winded, he felt like he was nearing the end of his Monday morning aerobics class. The young man seemed to know all the ins and outs of the building,all the hidden doors and staircases. He had no idea how the two of them ended up on the roof on this exceptionally windy night.

Patrick could feel the smile play across his lips in an almost foreign upturned line. He had to pause for a moment to get himself together in the bathroom. He had just a brief snort just to keep himself up to par. He imagined he looked like a complete psychopath. Cheshire cat grin, sweating profusely all the while he continues to brandish the knife. Martin was crouched down behind the chimney, his cheek resting lightly against the brick. He looked fully resigned, simply watching Patrick as he continued to laugh and babel to himself.

“Wha--What am I doing?!” His head points towards the night sky as the knife falls from his hand. It lands onto the cement with a resounding clatter. Martin eagerly scrambles for it, before tossing it to the far side of the roof.

Patrick turns his back for a moment, quickly snorting another line from his index finger.. At this point, he had no idea how he could get past this. He had actually chased the young boy onto the roof. He had three options, he could shove him off. He could fuck him (as he previously intended) Or he could finally hurl himself off the roof. All three options began to seem increasingly appealing. Then Martin began to speak.

“You’re going to kill me aren’t you?”

Patrick eyes him almost quizzically. He looks like a frightened cat hiding behind a tree.

“I-- I- don’t know.”

He was being honest for once, at this point he had no idea what he wanted to do to Martin.

He can hear Martin’s nails scrape against the brick as he stands.He didn’t recall his face looking so pale, almost ghastly. His cheekbones were gaunt and pronounced.“ Well then kill me now or just let me jump…”

His eyes widen for a moment.

“Just let me jump…”

His entire body was on fire he could do nothing but aimleslessy grasp at the boy’s hair. His knife was lost somewhere in the corner, his dick was buried between two immaculate cheeks. At times a breeze would shift in, reminding him that he was completely nude on the rooftop of Dorsia. His friends were most likely already over at Level’s he didn’t mind. All that mattered were the sounds spewing from the young man beneath him. It was supposed to be torture, the harder he would yank his hair, more lewd noises spilled from his lips.

Patrick could clearly see the city below him, it would be so easily to simply toss the boy off the edge of the building. The rewarding sound of him spattering across the pavement would be too dull given the height. Various apartment lights flickered on and off like fireflies in the otherwise crisp black sky. He shifts his focus to the sight of his dick plunging into the well worked hole of his former waiter. Glistening in the light, he still couldn't get over how freely the boy offered himself over. Luis would be jealous, this was exactly what he wanted. But Patrick never desired Luis, he desired him.

A strange, sort of guttural noise alerts him once again to Martin’s existence. He layed limply against the brick, it was obvious that he had just came. His hand reaches beneath them, harshly groping at Martin’s quickly softening and over sensitive member. He ignores the boy’s pleads for him to stop, instead pistoning his hips in full. It wasn’t long before he bottoms out completely, beads of sweat drip against Martin’s back. A strong gust of air once again reminds him that he is completely bare.

He begins to dress as the waiter still lies limply against the brick. Gaping, he can see pearly white seed leaking out of him. For a moment it reminds him of Courtney, so pretty, almost perfect looking. He reaches into his pocket, drawing out a card.

He tosses it onto the young man’s back as he turns toward the fire escape. “Call me if you want. I might answer. Maybe not. I’m at work all the time”

#martin 1977 #martin 1978 #martin/patrick #martin/patrick bateman #I tried yall #I doubt it even makes sense.

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hartigays · 4 years

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#4&5 for harringrove? so glad you’re back in the writing game💞💞💖💖

4. “You’re staring again.”

5. “Wow. you look stunning.”

nancy is getting married.

the church is packed to the brim, primarily with every last member of the wheeler family. some of the byers’ extended family have come down, but the ratio between the two families is relatively incomparable.

steve adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, grimacing. he’s not a big fan of formal dress, especially suits. he’s also not a big fan of watching his first love get walked down the aisle while he remains single and unsatisfied in virtually all aspects of life.

he’s happy for nancy. really, he is. steve loves how happy jonathan makes her, he loves that nancy found the person she’s truly meant to be with. steve loves that she’s getting everything she deserves out of life - all the good things. it’s all he ever wanted for her, really.

but steve finds that despite those things, it doesn’t make the reality of this situation sting any less.

“he’s staring at you again.”

steve is startled out of his thoughts. he turns to look at robin, his brows knitting in confusion.

“billy,” robin clarifies, glancing over to where the boy in question is sitting. “he’s been doing it since they got here.”

billy and max are sitting in a pew across the aisle from steve and robin. steve had tried to not pay any mind to his arrival - though, not necessarily because he and billy are still resting on uneven ground.

the reality is, they’ve grown to be relatively good friends. billy and steve go to lunch together sometimes, when their work schedules line up. they work out together every now and then on their off days. billy routinely ransacks steve’s wardrobe, tells him that his fashion sense is heinous and replaces his least favorite items with some of his own.

steve isn’t really sure if the stuff billy brings him is his, or if he spends time shopping specifically for steve. to improve his so-called “pathetic” wardrobe. although, steve finds that billy never touches his pastel polos and neatly pressed khakis. mostly just his t-shirts and the jeans that don’t fit him right due to his inability to understand size charts.

point is, billy has become a constant in steve’s life that he appreciates greatly but doesn’t quite understand. he wishes he did, though. he especially wishes he understood the feeling that blossoms in his chest every time billy gives him that secretive smile. the one steve is pretty sure no one but him has ever seen, other than max - maybe.

“he’s probably staring at you,” steve tells her, shrugging. “you do look amazing in that dress. heather is going to lose her shit when she gets here.”

“thanks, steve,” robin says, ducking her head. “but no, he’s looking at you. he’s always looking at you.”

steve doesn’t understand that. he doesn’t see it, honestly. billy is an unbelievably attractive guy who always has a gaggle of girls falling all over him at any given moment. hawkins’ resident unattainable bad boy. he’s just steve’s buddy, nothing more.

something about that thought leaves a sour taste in steve’s mouth. but he doesn’t have time to dissect it, because a moment later, the ceremony is starting.

it’s a beautiful ceremony - the parts steve pays attention to, anyway. the moment nancy reaches the end of the aisle and moves to stand before jonathan, steve glances over at the pew across from his.

billy is staring, steve can’t deny it this time. he looks away, his face heating up. billy has an unreadable look on his face, and it makes steve squirm. he tries to focus back on the ceremony, but it makes his heart sink.

so. he looks back at billy. the other boy is still staring. for the first time, he takes in how good billy looks. he definitely cleans up well. his suit is dated, but he wears it well. in fact, it looks pretty fucking incredible on him. he chose not to don a tie, instead keeping the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. steve can see the faint glimmer of the necklace he always wears hanging around his neck.

it shouldn’t look as good as it does. steve’s mouth feels a little dry. he tries not to focus too much on the way billy’s curls fall, or the heat of his blue eyes burning into his.

but when nancy and jonathan start exchanging their vows, steve feels his heart give an unpleasant twist. he meets billy’s eyes again. they don’t break contact until they’re being ushered out of the church.

the reception is crazy. the ballroom of the venue they’d chosen looks like something straight out of a fairytale. nancy looks like a disney princess when jonathan twirls her about during their first dance.

steve sits on the sidelines sipping some fruity cocktail or another. robin and heather have found each other and are dancing the night away. to an outside perspective, they just look like two friends having a great time. but steve sees the sneaky little touches, the lovey-dovey gazes. it both warms his heart and makes his stomach sink.

he wants that. he really, really does. not with nancy, or robin, or even the cute receptionist that works for his father. steve’s mind only supplies him with an image of blue eyes and nose freckles. it makes him feel out-of-sorts.

steve makes a beeline for the bathroom.

it’s empty, thank god. steve splashes some cold water on his face, watching himself in the mirror as he pats his skin dry. he feels incredibly off-balance today. it’d be nice if that could stop.

no such luck.

the door behind him cracks open, and billy slips inside. steve’s heart does a funny dance, and for a moment, he’s worried he’s having a heart attack. he clutches his chest, his eyes locking with billy’s reflection in the mirror.

“you’re staring at me again,” is all steve can think to say. he’s not exactly sure why.

billy cracks a small half-smile. “yeah.”

“anything you want to share with the rest of the class?”

for the first time ever, billy looks a little timid. shy, even? it’s a strange look for him. steve has never seen billy hargrove look like anything other than the mysterious, intimidatingly attractive bad boy that he is.

“i, uh. you just - you look...amazing,” billy finishes, a little lamely. he rolls his eyes at himself, looking up at the bathroom ceiling and shaking his head.

the smirk returns, but for the first time steve sees it for what it is: a mask.

“so do you. you clean up well,” steve notes, staring down at the sink. his cheeks are bright red; billy’s words make him feel warm.

after a beat of silence, billy moves to stand at the sink next to him. steve meets his eyes again after a moment. the look billy is giving him feels almost electric, now that he’s not looking at him via a mirror.

“why so glum, sugarplum?”

steve makes a face, snorting. he can’t help but smile. “i’m not. i mean, i was. i’m not anymore, though.”

the admission slips through his lips before he can think about it. steve feels his cheeks heat up again. he wants to stop looking at billy, but the guy is practically fucking beaming now, like steve has just handed him the holy grail of compliments.

“good,” billy says after a moment. “you’re prettier when you smile.”

steve nearly falls forward and smashes his head into the mirror. he steadies himself and gives billy a bewildered look.

“did you just call me pretty?” he asks, incredulous. he should probably feel emasculated by the compliment. instead, warmth blossoms in his gut again.

“that i did.”

steve feels like his chest in seizing up. but it’s not a bad feeling. it’s more so...familiar. but also, not. because he’s felt this way about plenty of people in his life, nancy especially. but none of them, not a single one, felt quite like this.

“i’m not in love with nancy,” steve blurts, suddenly desperate for billy to understand. “i just - it’s hard. seeing them together, when i’m, well. you know.”

“you don’t have to be,” billy says coolly, tilting his head to the side. “if you don’t want to be.”

“i don’t,” steve tells him, the words slipping out before billy even finishes his sentence. “want to be, i mean.”

“good.”

billy doesn’t say anything else. he doesn’t let steve say anything else. instead, he slips an arm around steve’s waist. pulls him flush against him, and slots their mouths together.

steve quite literally melts against him. he’s not one for the corny romance novel type of shit. but he can’t deny it. everything just clicks into place at the first touch of billy’s lips against his.

when he gasps, billy’s tongue takes it as an invitation to lick into his mouth. steve has to grab onto billy’s shoulders for support, his legs completely useless. he’s lucky billy still has him tucked securely in his arms.

billy kisses him slow, he kisses him warm and soft and sugary sweet. the feeling of his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of steve’s face is new, but it just has steve winding his arms around billy’s neck and locking his hands together behind him. he leans into billy, kissing him a little desperately.

“let me take you out tomorrow,” billy says, when they pull apart. it’s mumbled in between the soft little kisses he keeps giving him, like he can’t get enough of steve’s lips.

if that’s the case, well. the feeling is mutual.

“yes, yeah. absolutely. anywhere you wanna go,” steve agrees, a little more than breathless.

“does anywhere include that bathroom stall, right fucking now?” billy asks, nipping at steve’s jaw.

steve just tucks a lock of billy’s curls behind his ear, giving him a mischievous grin.

“you bet your ass it does.”

send me a number + a pairing!

#I LOVE THEY #thank u for requesting bby 💕💝💖💓 hope u enjoy!#harringrove #my fics #ask #electric-177

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