#'just tell me- what did i do? how can i be better for someone to stay?'

[unknownogre]

"So, you’re after my roommate. Sorry, my EX-assassin roommate, as you so graciously let slip. And you think tying me to a chair and pointing a gun at my head will magically make me know exactly where he is?”

I have no idea who this guy is. He hit me in the back of the head out of nowhere and then demanded I tell him where Allen, my roommate, was. I have no fucking clue where he is. We aren’t dating. We live in the same apartment because RENT IS EXPENSIVE! Gods now this moron thinks that my roommate is an ex-assassin?

…though…

I mean he has all these cool skills. We got locked out of our place the other day and he just happened to have the right tools in his pocket to pick the lock. I took him out for a drink on his birthday once and he fought three men to a stand still till I jumped in and then still did the heavy lifting in beating the hell out of them. Assholes too, the girls they were bothering bought us drinks as thanks.

Hmmm…I mean there are weirder things in the world right? So you know what? I’ll believe him. And I’d have another reason not to betray my roommate.

“YES! Tell me where he is! I can make the next two hours stretch on for an eternity. Your pain will echo off the walls…they’ll have to tear down this building after I’m finished with you.”

The dude was bigger than me…but I don’t know he wasn’t scary. I could tell he had his demons. Don’t we all right? But you don’t rat out a homie. Plain and simple. And really, he needs to work on his promises of pain speech. Kinda weak, like chat GPT wrote it or something.

“WHY ARE YOU SMIRKING!?”

He shouted and I looked him in the face. I just sighed and shifted in my chair a little bit, playing with the bindings around my wrist. No use to panic. But then you only panic when you feel in danger and I certainly don’t feel threatened right now. I never seemed to panic when someone really should.

“I just think you haven’t thought this through. So you torture me and my roommate finds out…well he is going to be pissed. I do all the cooking you see, and then he’ll kill you. Plain as that. You are dead if you torture me for his information. BUT…BUT if you kill me. Well, he called my ham balls a gift from the dark gods. So he’ll then torture you. And I bet…this is some John Wick shit and he is WAY better than you.”

He growled at me and back handed me. Ouch…that didn’t feel that great. Could have been worse though, I can taste a little blood though. I spit out some and just sigh. This was all…underwhelming.

“Since you are going to kill me can I tell you a joke?”

He looked at me side ways but then just pulled up a chair.

“Sure…tell me a joke as your lasts words.”

I had to chuckle, this joke was always really funny to me and I liked to tell it any chance I got.

“Okay So there was a guy…he was driving his car down the highway. While driving he saw another man standing on the side of the road so he pulled over to pick him up. The man was sweaty and dirty and honestly this was his life line. ‘OH MAN THANKS!’ the hitchhiker said as he got in. The man in the car just smile and winked. They drove for a little bit and the hitchhiker smiled and looked to the man driving the car. ‘I’m so glad you picked me up, most people won’t do it…they think I’m a traveling serial killer or something.’ The man driving smirked and said. ‘Oh I’m not worried about that at all…’ The hitchhiker canted his head and asked. ‘Why is that? I could be one ya know..’ and the man driving the car smiled and said. ‘What is the likely hood of two serial killers being in the same car.’”

I chuckled a bit, yeah I always loved that joke. The intruder wasn’t amused, and I could see the gears turning in his head. Good, let him think on that.

“Are you saying you’re an assassin?”

He asked after a bit and I just started to laugh in earnest. How simple could he be, really. REALLY was he that stupid. That is okay, maybe I’ll walk him through this. Ya know knowing Allen is an assassin, it makes a lot more sense now about how we vibed right off the bat. Both of us had trouble getting roommates before we found each other. No romance or nothing, we just understand each other. There was always space. Never too many probing questions, but still deep conversations.

“No…no my dear man. As the joke states, what is the likely hood of there being two serial killers in the same car?”

Come on there scooter, you can get this now can’t you. I’m almost tired of waiting. Then he looked at me with the most confused expression.

“Are…are you a serial killer?”

There was another chuckle, he hardly had time to react as my untied hands wrapped the rope he used to bind me around his throat. I was no trained assassin, but I had my skills. He fought for a while. Surprised…I just held him until he stopped moving…always takes a couple of minutes. Not like I haven’t done this before. I REALLY wanted to cut his throat open but man, you don’t spill blood where you live. Once I was sure he died I just let him fall to the floor. It was then Allen came out of the shadows.

“I knew I didn’t need to save you. You were far too calm the whole time.”

I just smirked at him, he was already moving the body and pulled out a phone to make a quick call. I couldn’t hear what he said but I knew he gave our address. Man, having professional cleaners at your beck and call must be wonderful. That is a LOT less work that I have to do.

“Well, ya know. So are you going to have to move out?”

I wasn’t happy with that idea, I really did like him as a roommate. People like him didn’t come along very often and well, searching is a pain in the ass.

“Na, I don’t think so. I’ll stay right here. By how skilled you are, how strong you are…and now I notice a few things you’re the Rapist Reaper? Or am I wrong?”

I grinned brightly and dipped my head a bit. He got me, but of course he did. NO more secrets though, which will be nice. I knew Allen was a good guy too, never had the aura that a lot of the other men do. I’ve killed my last three roommates, and I really didn’t want to have to do that to him too, not that I ever felt the need to be honest. There are few good men in this world and Allen he certainly one of them.

“You got me, I mean I don’t really like the name too much…but you don’t get to pick what the media calls you. Judging by how well you move and how long you’ve been my roommate, you’re Death’s Whisper.”

Allen bowed a bit and just sat down on the couch. I cleaned up my split lip and got both of us a beer and sat next to him.

“Okay, this is a long shot…BUT if you want to stay roommates…wanna go kill a crime lord and his lackies. I don’t really hate them or anything but this one REALLY wants me back in the game and I have NO interest in that anymore. I’m retired, I like the boring life. No wife, no kids, no one to protect or answer to. It is very nice. I want to enjoy this for a while. Want to help?”

I was already grinning and all I had to do was clink my bottle with his. He smiled at me and we waited for the cleaners to arrive. I’m going to have so much fun with this. They won’t be expecting two of us…I mean I’m not like Allen…he is a MUCH better fighter than me. Still, I can fight very well. More of a brawler though, gotta get them into the van somehow and some of those guys are WAY bigger than me, so I got good.

“Ham balls for dinner?”

Allen chuckled…oh this was going to be a wonderful friendship.

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 6] A Different Side

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Sukuna notices a certain glow to you lately. He’s not sure what it is, but as time goes on and you become rounder with his children, he sees something different in you. He doesn’t find you beautiful, that’s certainly not it.

Well, he certainly doesn’t mind looking at you. He did choose you out of any other woman to carry his child. There’s something nice about you that he likes to dote on when no one else is looking (he’d never admit that though). He won’t say that you’re beautiful, but he’d say that you’re the closest a woman comes to achieving that. But lately, there’s something about you that radiates, something that sticks with him even after you leave. 

Is Sukuna getting to like you? No, that’s absurd. He’s just seeing you in a better light since you’re carrying his children. It’s normal for someone to look at the mother of his children in a better light, and Sukuna guesses he falls under that category as well. As much as he likes to infamously stand out, this one time he relates to the crowd.

Even though he negates the idea that he likes you, you notice a change in him. He’s grown fonder of you. You assume that it’s because the nauseousness dies down and you’re finally eating what you’re served, just as he orders. Your taste buds aren’t fond of it, but you can eat it without puking.

You notice a change in how he treats you as time passes. He spends more time with you– Not just watching you, but actually doing an activity with you. Whenever you read, he listens; if you want to take a stroll, he joins your side, not just walking three steps behind you; if you play a game, he joins. Either he’s grown fond of you as his wife, or he realized he’s too bored by just watching you live your life. Either way, you’re happy with how it’s going.

“You’re horrible at shogi.” Sukuna points out after beating you for what feels like the hundredth time in the day. He likes your perseverance at least. Humans are so fascinating in that aspect. They refuse to give up even if they have no chance of winning. Sukuna has lost count of the times he’s killed someone because they bet on something that they had no chance of winning.

“Hina tells me I’ve improved! I’m always beating her.” You claim, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. What a pretty little fool you are.

“And why do you think that is?” Sukuna feels like he has to dumb it down for you, and you scoff. You cross your arms, resting on top of your very noticeable bump. Sukuna smirks as he looks at you. You’re at least three months along, and you’re already huge. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’re expecting twins.

“Would it hurt you to let me win?” You mutter, and Sukuna hums in response. You huff as you stand up, refusing to play with him anymore. Maybe it’s the reason why Hina always lets you win, you’re a sore loser. “I don’t want to play with you anymore.”

“Good. I need a challenge.” 

“You’re a big dumb loser.” You stick out your tongue at him, but you quickly regret your actions when he glares at you. You know he won’t touch you or harm you in any way, but a single look is enough to send chills down your spine.

“Calling me a loser when you’ve lost more games than I can count… That’s rich.” He responds, which makes your back stiffen. You’re taken aback by his response, considering how quick it is. You’ve never assumed that Sukuna would have a sharp tongue; to you, he’s simply loud and scary which is why people are terrified of him, so it comes as a shocker when he actually has a smart response.

“I’m going on a walk.” You tell him, causing him to rise and go to your side. There’s absolutely nothing that you’re allowed to do alone, and you feel suffocated. You’ve asked him to give you a moment to yourself daily but you have no authority over him, and he makes it clear by not leaving you alone.

“It’s getting colder. You won’t be going on walks next week.” Sukuna says, which is an order rather than a prediction. A slight pout comes to your face, knowing that you have to find something else to do. 

For the first time in your life, you’re bored. You have nothing to do, and you find yourself staring at a wall for hours on end. You have too much time on your hands, and you find yourself thinking about what the future awaits. You wonder if after giving birth to his children, you'll be able to see your family. And you don’t want to be overwhelmed by your thoughts, which is why you try to keep yourself entertained, always.

“What will I do then?” You ask him as you exit the room. Your question receives no response, just as you expected. He isn’t very talkative during your walks, he just listens to you with no response. You guess his presence is better than none during your walks.

“You’re right, it is getting chilly.” You try to make conversation when you get outside, but as to be expected, he doesn’t say anything. However, he does hum in response which you consider as a small win. 

You walk slowly, taking details of the giant place. You’re always amazed by its size, no matter how many times you walk past it. It’s truly fit for a king. You shouldn’t expect less for Sukuna.

“What are you planning to name your child?” You question, and you’re sure that you’re not receiving a response since after a minute, he’s quiet. You’re not disappointed by the lack of response, after all, you ask a million questions and he only answers ten.

“I don’t have a preference. You can pick.” He finally answers, which makes you completely stop in your step. He furrows his brows as he looks down at you, “What?”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” You respond. As if the child that you carry isn’t yours as well, but only Sukuna’s. So far, you feel none of the maternal love that women claim to carry the moment they know they’re expecting. You’re expected to nurture them, but you know that you’ll have little to no authority over them; if anything you’ll be like a servant instead of a mother. “It’s your child.”

“You are carrying them, you have some control over that.” He replies, which is his way of telling you that he has no names in mind. He wants a child, the same way a man wants a pet. He didn’t give any forethought before completing the act.

“I’ll discuss it with Hina.” You end up saying, something which he won’t argue with. You continue your walk until you see a particularly dull spot in the palace. You point at it and tell Sukuna, “Some flowers would add some color to the place.”

“Winter is approaching.” He reminds you. 

“Spring will come again.” You respond, and he subtly nods.

“I’ll speak with Uraume then.” He replies, which makes a small smile appear on your lips. You intertwine your arm with his lower one, and he doesn’t bother fighting it off. Maybe you need some support for balance, and he isn’t going to push you off. Not while you’re carrying his baby.

“You know, while we’re at it–” You begin but a simple look makes you shut up. He knows you’re about to ask about your family, and you already know the answer.

Sukuna is tired of watching over you at around midnight. He spends every minute, every hour watching over you and he needs a break. Of course, he won’t leave you alone when you’re free to run around and get your dumb self in danger. He’ll just get Uraume or that dumb servant that you adore so much to watch over you while he… Visits Kyoko for the night. 

Maybe he should catch up on some sleep lost, but that isn’t quite as entertaining. He can sleep at any other time. He wonders if you’d get jealous about that, but at the same time he can’t really care for your thoughts.

He’s about to call out for Uraume to watch over you, but you begin to tremble. You look cold. He looks for something to throw over you and warm you up, but he doesn’t see anything. He thought he stocked up the room of literally everything, but he can’t find a blanket to throw over you.

He sighs. He should just let Uraume deal with this. Or your servant. All he knows is that this isn’t his job. Sure, he’s supposed to be your husband and whatnot but he isn’t responsible to keep you warm– But you’re also carrying his seed, and he’s responsible for the babies that grow inside of you. Sukuna sits down beside you, picking you up and bringing your head to his chest. 

He’ll just hold you for a minute. He’ll give you enough time to warm up before leaving. His hand goes to your back, and he’s hesitant before gently patting your back. 

“Haru.” You mutter, and he furrows his eyebrows. Who is that? Your brother? You’re shivering, your hands gripping the cloth of his kimono. It seems that you aren’t necessarily cold, but rather having a nightmare of sorts. 

“Wake up.” Sukuna pokes your forehead to get you to open your eyes. It doesn’t take much effort on his part to wake you up. You’re short of breath as you open your eyes, and immediately you notice that he’s holding you.

“What– What happened?” You can’t help but stutter as he puts you down. You feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest as you’re brought back to reality.

“You tell me. You were trembling and I had to help.” Sukuna answers as he stands up. You know that he isn’t going to stand around and listen to whatever you have to say, so you don’t bother speaking up; you don’t have the energy to waste your words for uncaring ears.

“Can you call Hina? Before you leave.” You ask, and he frowns.

“Who told you I’m leaving?” He questions.

“I’ve woken up a couple of times, and realized that you’ve been leaving the room lately.” You confess, since you doubt you can get in trouble for knowing the truth. It’s his fault that he leaves, he can’t get mad at you for noticing.

“I’m not leaving.” Sukuna decides. He doesn’t like the fact that you know his next move. He sits down again, deciding to ask, “What were you dreaming?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You leave him hanging. You’ve clearly woken up in a bad mood after your nightmare, and you’ve decided to test out Sukuna’s limits. You know that he won’t do you any harm, not while you’re carrying his baby at least.

“Haru… Is that the fragile little boy I healed?” Sukuna asks and you feel your heart drop at the mention of your little brother.

“How did you–” You begin to be cut off by him.

“You were calling out his name.” He says. “Someone really important to you from what I can gather.”

“He’s the only reason I’m here.” You murmur, and Sukuna scoffs. As if being the woman that carries his child isn’t an honor. “Yeah, I just had a bad dream about him. That was that.”

“Stop thinking about an imbecile. You are a queen, and he’s barely human.” Sukuna orders, as if it’s something that you can easily stop thinking about. You wish you could just forget about him, considering that you can’t see him. Every day you wonder if he’s okay, and if he and your aunt have enough food to eat. Alas, you can’t do anything against Sukuna’s wishes.

“He’s my brother. My family.” You argue, and he clicks his tongue.

“You stopped having a family the moment you became my wife.” Sukuna responds, and you feel nauseous at his words. “The only family you have now is the babies that are in your womb, and me.”

“Why can’t he be considered my family? He’s the only reason I’m here.” You remind him, and the words tick him off.

“He’s beneath you.” He says, and the words break your heart. Haru is all you have in the world, to hear that he’s beneath you makes you upset.

“Why–”

“Enough! I said you’re going to stop thinking about him, and that’s what you’ll do. Now go to sleep.” He yells, and tears begin to well up in your eyes. You end up nodding in response, knowing you have no other option but to listen. He looks down at you, watching you get on your side and cover yourself. “Good night.”

“Night.”

[dollyichi]

WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE : BLUE LOCK EDITION . . . m—dni. f ! reader / it’s either pretty tame or freaky idk / doing it raw / creamp!es / virginity and being inexperienced / some ooc but this is just for fun / not proofread

FEATURING ⋮ isagi, nagi, karasu, rin, barou, kunigami, chigiri

isagi yoichi �� before your relationship was established he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess it up. but then he wasn’t sure if you were on the pill but the sex was so good he ended up coming inside you. proceeded to suck his cum out for your pussy cause of the panic. didn’t have sex with you for a week after that but you were fine.

nagi seishiro ⋮ played a game where he can customize the character and got really pissed off because it wasn’t even half as pretty as you. sulking each time he dies because he think he ‘failed you.’ ended up quitting the game too because he found out there was sex in the game and he wouldn’t want the ‘game you’ being with anyone else that wasn’t him. even got jealous one time because he didn’t know that he was increasing his character’s relationship level with an npc who looked too much like his teammate. too many emotions while you’re watching him lose his mind when you’re perfectly fine eating snacks on the bed. having to console him by riding him and telling him you only love him and not barou.

tabito karasu ⋮ pays for your nails when you get an appointment so you could jack him off after. will also take photos of your nails for you, with one jerking his cock of course. got this pavlov effect that he gets hard every time you show him your fresh new set. yeah he’s ruined.

itoshi rin ⋮ he was a virgin before he met you, and ended up cumming each time he bottomed out the first few times you guys did it. he was inexperienced and very sensitive since he wasn’t used to it. he was still always hard after so it didn’t matter. unaware he was crying one time because he was so overstimulated while you’re clenching down so hard causing his cum to spill.

shoei barou ⋮ you were supposed to meetup with someone else that your friend suggested but you weren’t really sure if it was him when you arrived at the meeting place. ended up going on the date with him and hooking up at the end only for you to find out he wasn’t actually the guy. “what was i supposed to do? deny a pretty girl like you?” went on a few more dates anyway and ended up establishing the relationship properly <3 [ do not be like them! ]

rensuke kunigami ⋮ you were the first person to ever give him head. it felt too good and better than expected. you told him you weren’t too experienced but you worked on him like a pro. he was scared he could hurt you so instead of holding onto your head he gripped onto the wooden headboards. when he came, he held onto it too hard he broke the top part in half.

chigiri hyoma ⋮ moaned out your name during a wet dream. until it shifted, “take it! fucking take it” he said. his teammates weren’t sure if they should wake him up any time soon and they weren’t too sure how to face you after hearing that.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i have no idea what came over me writing these but here u go crying during sex rin hell yeah!!!

[niechys]

I'm sorry. I'm so not sorry but also so so so sorry. But I can't stop thinking about it.

from @keferon tf mecha universe

(Also if you don't want me tagging you please do tell. I didn't want to bother, just want to credit cuz it's glorious)

it's because of this post.

Happened after This event

I'm sorry in advance for all the grammatical errors.

I also don't know wo else would be the science guy to take this position of explaining the thing. I feel like there has to be someone else that's not Shockwave too. Sorry to all of Brainstorm's fans out there. I think he's not a bad guy. Just too excited for the possibilities.

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

Something lingers inside that mech. Although there is no hard evidence of a human soul or spirit or ghost haunting it, most people who had anything to do with Vortex agreed that it was best to believe its first pilot never leave the cockpit of his mech. After all, nothing else would explain the freak accidents constantly killing all but the latest pilot.

Human are prone to be superstitious. It's normal to believe in something like ghost in the machine, really.

But one would not think a man of sciences such as Shockwave would take the rumors seriously. No one knows if the scientist really believe it or not. He

Regardless of the rumors' validity, it sure did inspired him.

"You're kidding me" Swindle stood, blinked, looked at the incomplete repair of Blurr's mech then back to the technician in front of him. Brainstorm was prattling on at speed faster than Blurr's F1 record.

"Not kidding. Why would I kid? This is a great breakthrough. Lives can be saved and there are much we could do with the tech, I don't know why it never occurs to me or Shockwave that the neural link tech could have been used in this way---"

Swindle turned his brain off during all the scientific mumbo jumbo all and only really heard him again at "It's nothing all that weird really. Some people disagree, but you can't go against Shockwave when he put his mind to it. If you think about it, it's just like Vortex"

"What?" Swindle blinked again.

"Vortex. That mech, I mean the mech's first pilot, crazy psycho, crazy good at slicing up kaijus"

"I know who Vortex was. I worked here when he started piloting. What did that asshole has to do with this?"

"Oh, everything. If, a big if. If that guy's consciousness was still in the mech like people been saying"

"Haunted" Crossing his arms, he narrowed his eyes at Brainstorm. The technician corrected him.

"Lingering consciousness. Either way, Blurr is in much better shape than Vortex. Brain still intact . So is most part of his body. We wired him to the neural link to allow him control of the mech. So when we are ready, he can still go about his task from within that mech"

"What . The . Fuck"

Swindle's eyebrow twitched. No, it's NOTHING like Vortex's case. The asshole died and probably refused to leave this world. Blurr, on the other hand, was still alive. Sure he wouldn't be the same. Maybe he would be scarred for life, paralyzed from the waist down or something. But hardwiring a person to a mech?

"So, you were working with Blurr before now, correct? That's why we would like to bring you in as his handler. Not like you have to do maintenances and stuff, just take care of him and, the publicity and all that. Like being his manager" With that, Brainstorm handed him a folder before excusing himself.

The guy wasn't bad most of the time, Swindle thought. But sometimes, just sometimes, his passion for science overshadowed the moral compass.

Like how he wished that his own greed would take precedented in his state of mind. They must have thought he would jump at the chance to milk more profit from Blurr. Hell, he wouldn't be feeling this bad if that was the case.

He wanted to refuse. Profit be damn, even he didn't feel right. Blurr saved them. He should be allowed to preserved his humanity, his dignity. Not preserving his brain in a jar inside a mech. If the pilot died and the mech is reparable, you find a new pilot. If the pilot lived but can no longer pilot, you also find a new pilot. Not..this.

But refusing means they will bring someone else on board to manage Blurr. He's pretty sure he wouldn't like that.

Fuck

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

**note. Blurr is not reduced to brain in a jar. Most of his body is intact, just hard wired to the mech.

I tink they can add robot parts to him later all stuff. But since they probably value Blurr as a money cow pilot first. If they can't use his face, they can still use his mech.

Sorry again ehehehehehehehehehe

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

Steve's half asleep on the couch when Dustin arrives the next day, and Robin lets him in.

“Hearts out,” Dustin demands immediately.

Steve winces. “Not a good idea, bud. My ribs are-”

“It's not your ribs,” Dustin interrupts. “You think I didn't see some blood when you were waving your heart around? Don't treat me like a baby, Steve, come on.”

Robin looks at him, and Steve shrugs.

“Okay,” he says, and Robin takes his heart out from her chest.

It looks better than it did yesterday, but it's still pretty pulpy, and Dustin goes pale.

“Steve,” he whispers, voice cracking.

“It's getting better,” Steve promises.

Dustin frowns, looking between him and Robin. “Are you having trouble breathing again? Why is Robin holding it?”

“It heals better when someone else has it,” Steve says. “Some kind of science thing.”

Dustin's frown deepens, then smooths out, and he holds his hands out to Robin. “My turn.”

“Dustin, I'm not going to ask you to-” Steve starts.

“You can't ask, I'm telling you I'm going to,” Dustin retorts. “I'm the first person who carried it, remember?”

Steve looks at Robin. She shrugs, and he can feel that she's not opposed to it, so he shrugs back. She hands his heart over to Dustin. There's some fumbling as Steve gives Robin's heart back to her and takes Dustin's instead, and then -

Huh.

Dustin is just as stubborn as he's always seemed, but underneath that is a quiet fear and a sense of love deeper than anything Steve's ever felt - other than from Robin.

“Come here.”

Steve gives him a hug - or as much of a hug as he can manage - then leans back on the couch again. “Breakfast's in the kitchen,” he says, already closing his eyes.

—

The next time he opens them, it's to the sound of half a dozen gremlins talking in what's probably supposed to be hushed tones.

“How did you all even get in here?” he asks.

They jump, then Dustin juts his chin out.

“I called them,” he says.

“We are here to help,” El says solemnly.

“Dustin told us what happened,” Lucas says.

Steve grimaces. “Look, you guys don't have to-”

“Will it work?” El asks.

Steve blinks at her. “Will what work?”

“If I try to heal your heart. Dustin says he looked it up, and it works best if it's someone you care about. Am I?”

Oh, that's just cheating. How is he supposed to protest with those eyes looking at him.

“Yeah, Ellie, of course you are. It'll work.”

She holds out her hands determinedly. "I don't have my powers. I couldn't save my - my dad, but I can do this. I can help you."

And that's that.

The next thing he knows, they've scheduled up a rotation along with Robin, and taken over his house, setting themselves up to watch TV or play games or do whatever else.

He finds himself alone with El, and he looks at her for a moment before asking, “Do you like cookies?”

Of course she likes cookies.

Steve can't actually do much work, but he can sit at the kitchen table and give directions, and she determinedly follows all of them as she puts together cookie dough.

He can feel the rough edges of her grief and her hopelessness, and he tries to give back as much support as he can.

She isn't alone.

“May I ask you something?” she asks, when a batch of cookies are in the oven and they're eating cookie dough.

“Sure,” he says.

“Dustin is not your brother.”

That's not a question, but he answers it anyway. “Not the way Mike is Nancy's brother or Will is Jonathan's, no.”

She frowns. “I don't understand,” she admits. “Mike says you are brave. That he likes you better now that you're not Nancy's boyfriend. I thought - you are like Mike.”

Oh, he is definitely remembering that for later. “Like Mike how?”

“Mike stepped off of a cliff for Dustin.”

Steve's brain screeches to a halt. “Mike what?”

“There were mouth breathers - bullies. They threatened to hurt Dustin if Mike didn't jump. He did. I caught him,” she's quick to reassure him, like that's what he's stuck on. “So - I thought you are like Mike. You protect your friends.”

“Like you, too,” Steve says, deciding to table the whole Mike thing for now. “You protect your friends.”

She smiles at him, a tiny, fleeting thing before her face scrunches in confusion. “But Max and Dustin and Lucas were not always your friends. Max says you jumped in front of a demodog the day you met her. I don't understand.”

Yeah, Steve's not sure he really understands either - a feeling she must pick up, because she looks even more confused.

“I just - wanted to help.” It sounds even lamer than it did when he said that about cleaning up the graffiti at the theater, but it's what he's got. “Maybe - we don't have to be like anyone, you know? We can just be like us. We can just want to help.”

Her expression smooths out, and he can feel - she kind of likes that.

“What I like,” she says, which is clearly a call back to something else with the way she's feeling, though he has no idea what.

It's okay. He doesn't really have to know what, he thinks - they understand each other.

And they have cookies.

—

He calls Mrs. Byers, just to make sure she knows where Will and El are.

She does, of course, but he also wants to check on her.

Her voice is unsteady and thick with grief, but she tells him not to worry about her, asks how the kids are doing, how he is.

He doesn't want to worry her, either, but he tells her what the kids’ plan is, how hard they're trying to help him.

How guilty he feels about it.

She's gentle when she tells him to let them help, that they care about him and they want to be able to do something good. He promises he will, and that he'll look after them.

He wishes he could do more.

—

Mike's up next, like he wants to get it over with.

Steve wants to tease him about the whole thinking he's brave thing, but when he's hit with everything Mike feels - worry and love and pride and protectiveness and how can I keep them all safe what am I supposed to do, he finds he doesn't want to give him a hard time.

Mike's angry at him, but he's angry at him because he's scared. Because he doesn't want to like him, doesn't want to trust him, but he does.

Mike likes him a whole lot, actually.

And Steve guesses that Mike can feel his own slightly amused fondness, because the kid scowls at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve replies.

He thinks for a while, while Mike sullenly sits at the kitchen table with him and pretends like Steve doesn't know that he actually has feelings.

Eventually, even though he knows it's going to get him scoffed at, he says, “Do you know why teams have co-captains?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Because they're too stupid to figure out how to play themselves?”

He tamps down on his irritation, though he knows not quickly enough, because Mike looks smug.

“So there's more than one person to make the hard choices. So if one person can't be there, the other can. So no one has to be in two places at once. So one person doesn't have to be everything to everyone,” Steve continues.

Mike scoffs, but Steve can still feel that it resonates with him. “Your stupid sports game is way less important than real life danger.”

“Yeah, sure. But so is your dragons game, and you guys use that all the time.”

He can feel that Mike wants to protest, though he also reluctantly thinks that Steve's right.

“So, what, you think we should pick captains for our Party?” Mike asks.

“Nah. You're already the party leader, right?” Steve asks. He knows that's how Mike sees himself, knows that's the pressure he puts on himself.

Now more than ever.

“But last time and this time, we had to split up, right? And you can't be everywhere.”

“You don't get it,” Mike says. “It's my job to protect them. How am I supposed to do it if I can't look out for everyone?”

“You get some help. Look - that's what I'm here for, all right? Let me help watch out for you guys.”

Mike snorts. “You?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think it's worked out so far.”

Mike glances away. Whatever he's thinking of, there's the faint memory of fear and an unbidden, reluctant wash of relief, of safety.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Whatever, you're in the Party.”

Steve doesn't point out that he's already been in it, according to some of them. He has a feeling that's the most he's going to get out of Mike, for now.

It's enough.

—

It's easy, with Max and Lucas.

Probably easier than it should be.

He and Max swap, and he sits with her angry, confused grief. He can feel her daring him to say something, so - he doesn't.

He opens his arms, and he says, “Come here,” and she's exhausted enough that she does.

He hugs her tight while she cries into his chest, angry with herself for crying and angry with Billy for being so terrible and saving her life anyway. Angry with Steve, too, but that one's too complicated for him to figure out with the echoes of the feelings he gets from her.

“I'm here,” he says after a while, even though it makes her cry harder. “I'm right here.”

He sits with Lucas, after, staring at the door where El and Max have retreated to try to get some sleep.

“I don't know how to help her,” Lucas says.

He doesn't sound lost, but his heart beats in Steve's chest, and he can feel it anyway.

“Me either,” Steve admits, because he knows Lucas can feel it from him, too.

“What am I supposed to do?” Lucas asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “Be there for her. Don't push her, but make sure she knows you're there. That you're not going anywhere.”

Some of the helplessness fades, and Lucas nods.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

They're quiet for a little bit.

“I want to try out for the basketball team,” Lucas says suddenly, then shoots an almost shy little look over at Steve at his pleased surprise.

“That's awesome, man. You want to get some more practice in after a few weeks?” Steve asks.

Lucas nods, then hesitates. “I don't think that Mike and Dustin and Will are going to like it.”

Steve frowns. “They like me okay.”

“Well, yeah, but that's different. We used to think you were a douchebag.”

It startles a laugh out of Steve. “Wow, thanks, Sinclair.”

Lucas shrugs, unapologetic. “We know you aren't now. But they're going to think I'm abandoning them.”

Steve considers. “Are you?”

“No! I'll still play D&D and stuff with them, we'll still be the Party. I want to prove you can do both. I want - I don't want people to mess with them. I want to do what you did.”

Steve swallows, suddenly a little choked up. He wishes he could blame it on his injuries, but he knows damn well Lucas can feel how touched he is.

“You're gonna be great, man,” he says when he has himself more under control. “You're gonna be way better than I ever was.”

—

When Will's up in the little rotation the gremlins have worked out, he lingers a few steps away, hesitant.

"Hey, man, you don't have to," Steve says awkwardly. "I can tell the other gremlins that you're needed at home."

Will looks at him for a moment. "Do I count?"

"What?" Steve asks.

"You didn't hunt a demodog with me, or barricade a bus in a junkyard, or fight off a bully, or go to the Upside Down tunnels, or invade a Russian bunker. You just let me into movies for free and let me hang out at your house with everyone. Is that enough?" Will's tone had been very matter of fact, but it goes a little bit more tenuous there.

"Yeah," Steve says. "Yeah, it is."

Will comes up to the table, holding his hands out expectantly, and Steve drops his heart into them.

It doesn't hurt, but by now, he doesn't expect it to. Steve's not sure he'll ever be able to thank any of the kids for this, but if Joyce is right, if being able to do something helps them after everything they just went through, then he guesses he's glad for that.

The awkwardness lingers a little after they've exchanged hearts. Probably because now they can feel an echo of each other's feelings. It makes Steve scramble for a topic.

"Mike and Lucas apologize to you yet?" Steve asks.

Will looks at him in confusion. "What for?"

"You think I didn't notice they've been kind of shitty? My money's on Mike being more insensitive about it, but Lucas has been right there with him, you know? Ditching Dustin half the time since he's been back, and before that it was always you playing fifth wheel."

Will looks a little surprised. “How'd you even notice that?”

"Because the same thing happened to me," Steve admits.

"I doubt it," Will mutters.

"It did!" Steve insists. "I had two best friends growing up. Then in middle school, they started dating, and suddenly every time we hung out I was the third wheel. It drove me nuts at first."

Will frowns. "Wait, but. You were always dating girls."

"Well, yeah, because I knew I was supposed to. I did a lot of things because it was what I was supposed to do." Steve'd liked all of them well enough, enjoyed dating them - especially once he started having sex and realized how good at it he could be - but he's not going to pretend like there isn't a reason his relationships didn't last very long.

Nancy'd been the only one he could see a forever with.

The kid's brows furrow, like he's not really sure what to do with that information.

"My point is-” Steve points at him with his spoon. “-don't let them rush you, or make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to do just to fit in with them. They're a lot better friends than mine were; they'll understand."

Will considers that. "Jonathan says I should never like something just because people tell me I should. That it's okay that I'm a freak, because he's a freak, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “What'd you say back?”

Will scrunches his nose. “I asked if that was why he didn't have any friends.”

He shouldn't, but Steve gives a little snort of laughter. Oh, no, Will is funny.

“Your brother has friends,” Steve protests, to counter his laughter. “He's got Nancy and me.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Nancy's his girlfriend.”

“Point in your favor,” Steve admits. “Still leaves me. And Robin will be his friend.”

Will toys with an apple from the fruit basket on the island. “Are you and Jonathan even really friends? It's not like you guys hang out.”

“Ouch, Byers, I thought you were the nice one,” Steve says, giving the kid a fond little smile to show he doesn't mean it. “There's different kinds of friends, I guess. Did, uh. Did Jonathan ever tell you how I got involved with all this?”

“Not really.” Will says with a shrug. “Just that you and him and Nancy fought a demogorgon.”

“That's because your brother's a good guy,” Steve tells him, then nudges the chair across from him.

It only moves a handful of inches, making Steve grimace - he'd wanted to kick it all the way out from under the table, but clearly he's not at full kicking strength. Still, it does the job, and Will takes a seat.

“I saw Nancy and Jonathan together on her bed one night, when she and I had just started dating. She couldn't tell me about the Upside Down stuff yet, but I knew she was lying, and I thought they were seeing each other behind my back.”

Will's looking at him, eyes huge, and it makes guilt twist in his stomach at the thought of what he said to Jonathan that day.

“We got in a fight the next day,” Steve admits. “I was really mean to him. So I went to your house later to apologize, and that's when I stumbled in on him and Nancy setting their trap. I gotta tell you, it was a really rude awakening, getting my apology speech interrupted by a demogorgon.”

“Try getting your bike ride home interrupted by one,” Will says dryly.

For a moment, Steve wonders if he should feel guilty bringing it up and potentially traumatizing the kid, but - Will doesn't look like he wants to be tiptoed around, and he can feel the faint trepidation from the kid's heart beating in his chest. The fear that someone's going to treat you different.

So Steve snorts instead. “Okay, you've got me beat,” he concedes. “You win the gold medal of demogorgon attacks.”

“Thanks.” It's just as dry, but Will's smiling at Steve like he said the right thing, so he'll take it. “Do I get an actual medal?”

Steve gives a surprised little laugh. “You know what? Sure. Come on.”

His pace is slow as he heads upstairs, and out of the corner of his eye, he's pretty sure he sees Will's hands twitch like he's debating trying to help him up. Steve resolutely ignores it until they get to his room, and then he unearths his first place medal from the medley swimming relay in eighth grade.

“Hang on, let me-” Steve digs around for some duct tape and a sharpie, then slaps a strip of tape on the back of the medal, pressing it down to get it to stick well. He writes demogorgan attack on the tape, blows on it to get it to dry, then hands it to Will with all the solemnity as if he was actually presenting him with a first place medal.

“Oh my God,” Will says, looking a little gobsmacked. “You're a nerd. You're one of us!”

“Hey! You spread that around, and I'll take your medal back!” Steve threatens.

“No way,” Will retorts. “Come back when you get dragged into the Upside Down by a demogorgon for dinner.”

“No thanks,” Steve says. “It's all yours.”

Will is beaming at him, and Steve kind of hates to ruin the mood - but he also really has to sit down. The downside to having them all on a rotation of heart exchanges is that he can't hide when it gets really bad.

He sits down on his bed while he can still do it without just dropping down onto the mattress. Will watches him for a moment, then carefully sits on the bed too, a foot or so away from him.

“So - that's why you and Jonathan are friends? You apologized and you fought a monster together?” Will asks.

“Yeah, I guess so. Look, there's different kinds of friends, right? There's the friends you have because you share a class together, or the ones you play the same sport - or, uh, hobby with, or the ones you just hang out with sometimes. And then there's the good ones, the ones who know you. Jonathan and I might not hang out outside of school, but I know he's got my back, and I've got his. Any time he needed me, I'd be right there.”

His feelings about Jonathan are - complicated, but that's the truth. Whatever else, Steve cares about the guy a hell of a lot, trusts him like he trusts very few others.

Steve's not sure what Will can pick up from him, but it must be enough to convince him that Steve's sincere, because he just quietly says, “Oh.”

“That goes for you, too,” Steve tells him. “Okay? You need me, I'm there.”

Will's cheeks go just a little pink, and there's a faint flutter of some kind in his heart, but Steve can't really tell what it is. “Okay.”

They're quiet for a moment, but it's not really awkward anymore - or at least, not beyond Steve trying to figure out how long before he's going to be able to get himself back downstairs without leaning on anyone.

“Did you date Nancy because you were supposed to?” Will asks after a while.

“Nancy's different,” Steve replies automatically, hearing an echo of himself saying the same thing to Dustin the day they were looking for Dart, and knowing it's just as true now as it was then, even if he's over her now - or as over her as he thinks he'll ever be.

Will mulls that over. “So - I might find a girl one day that's different, even if I've never liked girls before?”

There's something about the way that Will says it that sends him back into the Starcourt bathroom with Robin, watching her stare at him as he said but Tammy Thompson's a girl, waiting for it to click into place for him, and -

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit, he thinks he's accidentally implied something he didn't really mean to imply here. He thinks about trying to stutter out a clarification, that when Steve said he did it because he was supposed to, he didn't mean that he didn't like girls - he loves girls, girls are fantastic -

But.

But there's Eddie.

Will's voice had been so small, and whatever he can feel from Steve's heart in his chest is making his eyes go wide and scared, and it -

“Maybe,” Steve finds himself saying before he really knows what he's talking about. “But maybe not. And that's - that's okay. Whoever you like, or don't like, whoever you want to date or not date, it's okay.”

Steve pauses, feels like that isn't enough, and scrunches his face up. “Unless they're like, objectively terrible. If you get a crush on some little asshole, I can and will make fun of you.”

There's a ghost of a smile there. “Like Dustin and Suzie?” he asks.

“Way worse than Dustin and Suzie,” Steve says. “I had to be nice about Suzie, because everyone thought Dustin was making her up. I'm talking no holds barred here.”

—

"Do you think that guy's dead?"

Steve doesn't have to ask what guy Dustin means. He grimaces a little, because even if he wanted to, there's no way he can lie with their hearts in each other's chests. "We blew up their lab, man, I think most of them are dead."

Dustin frowns, looking like he's not sure if he thinks that's a good enough answer.

"I guess," he says finally. Then, so quietly Steve can barely hear it, Dustin asks, "Am I a bad person?"

"What?" Steve asks, thrown. "You've saved the world how many times now?"

Dustin gives him a look. "The same amount of times that you have."

Steve bumps Dustin's shoulder with the back of his knuckles. "Saved Nancy and Jonathan, maybe, but not sure how much world saving I did the first time. You got one up on me."

Dustin rolls his eyes. "Basically the same."

"All right, all right," Steve says. "We've saved the world a few times. Bad people don't usually do that."

Dustin fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Billy did. Kind of. He helped, at the end. Does that make him a good person?"

Shit, Steve is way too concussed for this.

"No," he says after a little while. "I don't think so. Maybe if he had more time, but I don't think one good thing that he did while he was already dying makes up for all the other bad things he did."

Dustin screws up his face in concentration, then nods. "Me too."

Steve'd really like to just end the conversation there, but he's pretty sure Dustin needs him to keep going, and, well.

He's always going to be there when Dustin needs him.

"What makes you think you're a bad person?" he asks.

Dustin stares at his hands for a little while. "I don't feel bad."

Steve tries to make sense of that for a moment, then gives up. "You lost me."

"I killed that guy," Dustin says, looking back up at him almost defiantly. "And I don't feel bad. I'm not sorry he's dead."

Guilt stabs through him so strongly that he knows Dustin must feel some of it, and he grimaces a little when Dustin frowns at him.

"What was that?" Dustin asks.

"I'm sorry that you had to do that," Steve says. "It's not fair."

Dustin scoffs. "None of this is fair."

All right, yeah, Dustin's got a point. Okay, new tactic.

"Look at me, Dust," Steve says softly.

Dustin pulls a face. "I am looking at you."

"Ugh, no, I mean look at me." Steve waves a hand at himself.

"You look like shit," Dustin tells him.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "You know why I look like shit?"

There's an echo of something remarkably similar to the guilt Steve just felt.

"Because of me," Dustin says, voice small.

Shit.

"What? No! How is this your fault?" Steve asks.

"I pushed the Russian message thing. You only looked into it because I wanted to," Dustin says.

"That's not - I looked into it for the same reason I helped you look for Dart, okay? Because I'm in this, and we're in this together, and if there's something out there, it's going to find us. That's not your fault."

Dustin doesn't look convinced.

"There is nothing that's going to keep me away from being in this with you, okay? Even if you didn't push me. Even if you didn't even tell me. I'd find out, and then I'd be mad." He pauses. "Like, really mad. Like telling your mom you ditched me and got in trouble so she doesn't let you leave the house for a year mad."

"Okay, okay," Dustin says, but he looks happier. "So what was your point, then?"

His point?

Right, his point.

"I look like shit because of the dead guy and his buddies." Part of Steve thinks he should hedge around this, try to sugarcoat it a little, but - treating Dustin like he's a kid who can't handle this isn't going to do anything. "You saw my heart, Dustin. You think the guys who did that were just going to let me walk out of there?"

Dustin looks at him, eyes big. "No," he admits quietly.

"The only reason I'm still standing here is because of you. I mean it, man - I'd be dead without you. And it sucks that you had to do that, and I wish I could have been faster or better, saved you from being the one that had to, but I'm not sorry that he's dead, either. Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe I'm a bad person because I would do the same thing, because I'd have killed all of them to protect you and I wouldn't feel bad at all."

Dustin's lip quivers a little. "You're not a bad person, Steve."

"Neither are you," Steve tells him.

The kid's eyes look suspiciously wet. Steve shifts, straightening up a little and lifting his arms.

"Come here."

Dustin drops down onto the couch, squished into his side. Steve drapes his arm over his shoulder, gingerly hugging him, and pretending that he can't hear Dustin's quiet sniffles or feel the shake of his shoulders.

"You're like the best person I know," Steve says softly.

"You too," Dustin replies, voice a little wet. "You're gonna be okay, right?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine."

His heart might not ever be the same, but with all of them trying so hard to keep it together and help it heal - it makes him feel pathetic, but he kind of thinks he might be even better.

It seems a good enough response for Dustin, who stays tucked in against his side, eyes slipping shut like he's going to fall asleep right there.

Steve wants to bitch about it, but he also doesn't want to move, so he just lets it happen.

"I used to be so jealous of Mike and Will," Dustin mutters sleepily after a while.

"Yeah?" Steve asks absently.

"All this sucks, and they had Nancy and Jonathan," Dustin says.

"Mmm," Steve agrees, feeling pretty close to sleep himself.

"I'm not anymore though."

"No?" Steve asks.

"Nah," Dustin mumbles. "You're way better than Nancy and Jonathan."

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

----

Part 8

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta

[idolomantises]

What do you think of The Owl House? Like, I liked and respect Dana a lot for what she's accomplished, but I also feel like everyone is just pretending that the show doesn't have any problems, as I felt that the cast was always very poorly developed from the beginning.

I like the show, I don't love it, but i think it's pretty good. TOH has a lot of really cool world building and lore, but I also found a lot of the characters really lacking. Three of my biggest annoyances were Luz, the characters having altered personalities after one episode and the underutilization of Luz's friends.

I think Luz is actually a great protagonist, my issue is when the show really loves to tease her as this flawed and morally complicated protagonist when... she isn't? any time she does something bad, its completely accidental. It's funny when the show first came out and people negatively compared her to Mabel because Mabel actually did make a lot of selfish and careless decisions that she had to grow from.

The show also had a bizarre habit of giving characters new personalities after their first appearance, and I think Amity is the worst offender of this. Her first appearance she's the generic mean girl bully, and this is used to create conflict and for Luz to befriend Willow. But then after that, all of a sudden she's super "cold" and keeps to herself, and the characters act like she's just the popular quiet girl? and then the show has the audacity to blame a lot of the bullying Amity did on her friends and parents. I have no clue why the flashback episodes portrayed it like Amity just watched as her friends bullied Willow, SHE was a part of that! Similar issue with Hunter. Introduced as a snarky brat, and then his next appearance he's incredibly angsty and depressed so the audience could sympathize with him. Willow and the Collector were also ones that stuck out to me, but it was a change that was subtle enough that I didn't notice.

I don't know why writers do this. I like it when your characters are messy and flawed, give them unlikable traits so we can watch them slowly be better people. Don't tell me someone is flawed and then don't give them flaws and don't tell me to sympathize with a character by just giving them a new personality.

I think everyone is pretty aware of how poorly utilized Luz's friends are but there are seriously so many episodes where I was like "why aren't Willow and Guz taking Amity's place". They really feel like a studio mandate.

Also Lumity is kind of boring but honestly, I don't really think its as big of a deal as some fans think it is. Lots of cartoons have straight couples that quarrel, get together and their relationship isn't the most compelling in the world, but its still pretty cute. If anything I do wish Amity would work through her issues more than have what little personality she had disappear when she dated Luz.

With your point about how fans handle criticism, admittedly I think part of the reason why people don't want to admit the show's problem is because Disney fucked it over MASSIVELY and it feels like punching down (at least to them). I think there's a very common mentality of "is it fair to criticize a show that never really got a chance to fully find its stride?"

But I also know this is just a massive problem with shows that have queer characters in general. There's just this prevalent attitude that if you have a problem with a piece of media that also happens to have queer characters, it means you're "ungrateful" or trying to insult it on purpose. Though personally, I think TOH fans are a lot better at handling and giving criticism.

[currentfandomkick]

While i do like the other reblogs (especially the one where Danny’s way to avoid killing someone was to poison Ra’s) it could be fun to play with Danny having left with the LOA’s consent.

How about with Ra’s blessing, as Danny argued he was too easily emotionally compromised, and wanted to focus on the environmental impact side of the league, magic, and even how they handle diplomacy and trade but cannot tolerate killing himself and is aware of this weakness in himself. Tiny Danny doing the equivalent of going “hey, you let mom choose to be the League as an adult. I am choosing not to stay here as an assassin and have different aspirations like her. I doubt this will change, can i be placed in another family unit that does not expect murder or for me to be cool with killing? with your approval, of course.”

And Ra’s was shown in a lot of early comics and later one to value integrity and loyalty highly. Danny indicating at a young age he’s aware he will hinder the league but could flourish elsewhere and offering listed interests and relevant skills he has could amuse him enough to inform Talia and get her take on what type of family she would want a young Danyal to be placed in, as they’d rather find one sooner to prevent Danny from being a long term security risk.

Talia was fully aware Danny does not want to kill, much like she did once and knows she can’t give him that life, so she chose to give him up as a small child. Damian stayed in the League as he did look up to his grandfather and wanted to be Heir. She decided it was better to separate the twins and let them chase their ambitions and moral codes than to force both to stay with her.

This also is a foundation for her sending Damian to Bruce when he’s ten—she remembers that Damian would learn well under him sure, but that Damian can learn if he does truly prefer killing as a primary option, or if he prefers alternative solutions to handling targets/dangerous individuals. To a degree, a test as an heir, to another degree, her trying to let her remaining son decide if he truly wants to lead the LOA as her father’s heir or not.

Danny could have been unofficially ‘gifted’ to the Fentons around age 4/5. with Maddie as a former LOA agent’s daughter and struggling to have a second child due to prolonged ectoplasm exposure. He was the ‘solution’ to them wanting and being unable to have another child. They just need to make their findings publicly accessible and keep him involved in the engineering aspect so long as he continues to show interest in it.

Problem: Danny does not favor fighting, and becomes Phantom on his death and auto-revival. He made sure not to tell his current parents, as he is aware Talia would be told and she would end up telling Ra’s. His reason to not tell the Fentons is to prevent Ra’s from trying to make more Halfas to be assassins. As Danny fundamentally is opposed to killing in this, and while fine with a varied range of other solutions, including Sam’s brand of ecoterrorism, killing is his Hard No.

From Damian’s POV his disowned twin showed up with a billionaire in Damian’s ‘territory’ between the two and realized Bruce and co were unaware Danny existed, let alone was with a pair of mad scientists loosely related to the League’s scientific and occult endeavors… and said twin is with a man that is not those approved individuals claiming to be his twin’s father. Was his brother kidnapped after the adoption? Adoptive parents dead or otherwise lost custody? He has no way of knowing as he’s not in the League anymore and lost that right to know when he chose his father over the LOA.

From danny’s POV he just found out Bruce Wayne is in bed with the LOA, and does not want to deal with the fallout of Damian a) catching him in his territory b) associating with a man that’s team ‘murder solves problems’ and c) is claiming to be his father when there’s no way Vlad’s ass would pass LOA standards for a branch member’s foster/adoptive family. He does not want Damian’s murdery smoke and is bailing as fast as he can without outing he’s meta/supernatural now. No idea how Grandfather would react or if he’s be used like Freakshow had puppeted his body with the red orb. Danny does not want to Find Out and has no clue Damian left the league.

Batfam POV is Damian had a secret twin who likely needs rescue, and knows too much about cloning. Is he in the LOA still? Escaped? Is a clone of Danyal and presumed his ID? They dont know and will find out. After capturing him and the shady guy claiming Bruce’s parental rights.

Right Reasons; Wrong Kid

Summary: Batfam thinks Damian is being kidnapped when they see Danny getting manhandled into a car by Vlad; Danny loves to make Vlad's life difficult and puts up a fight getting into the car.

Word Count: 1450

Being in Gotham was the last place Danny wanted to be today, especially when he had to be here with Vlad. The fruitloop had somehow convinced his parents that he should go to this stupid three day business conference with him.

While Danny can't make any decisions right now he can certainly make Vlad regret his. Which is why Danny doesn't feel an ounce of embarrassment at what he is currently doing.

"Daniel, get in the car." Vlad hissed at him with a tight smile as they both stood outside of the building the conference was being hosted in.

"No." He said; even going as far as to take a step backwards to further spite the man in front of him.

It was clear Vlad was losing his patience with him if the subtle flash of red in his eyes is anything to go off of. "Daniel, I won't ask again. Get in the car now, or I can drag you in. The choice is yours, but you will be getting in this car one way or another."

"You really gonna drag a kid into your car in front of all these people you're trying so hard to impress?" Danny looked from side to side at all the people congregating on the sidewalk and steps as they wait for their vehicles to arrive.

"I'm hardly the first person they've seen that has had to deal with a stubborn child refusing to listen." Vlad says as he takes a threatening step forward, "Now get in the car."

"No."

Seemingly annoyed but not surprised Vlad takes a deep breath before his hand, like a snake, strikes forward and grabs a hold of him before beginning to pull. Just as quickly though Danny is trying to pull away with just as much strength. Quickly taking a moment to look around he sees that others are already starting to look in their direction; perfect.

With him distracted though Vlad was able to get a sharp tug on him causing him to stubble towards the car. Before he can fall into the car though Danny is shooting his foot forward, firmly planting it down as his hands land on both sides of the open car door.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, fruitloop. I can't make it too easy for you." Danny teased as he fought against Vlad’s pushing.

Vlad doesn't say anything back to him besides giving a low growl. This situation is clearly not going the way he wanted to and Vlad’s frustration was starting to show, and Danny was determined to watch this man break in front of all these people he so desperately wanted to impress.

He locked his arms and knees when he felt Vlad start pushing harder against his back. Preparing himself to jump to the side the moment Vlad loosened his grip even slightly. What he wasn't prepared for though was for the weight pushing against him to suddenly disappear.

"What is going on here?" A deceivingly friendly voice sounds out behind him.

Before Danny can realize what has just happened though a much stronger hand is gripping his shoulder and yanking him away from the open car door. Finally able to see more than just the car's interior Danny see's that three other men are now standing by the car.

Two of them, a teen not much older than himself and a middle aged man, are standing in front of him as if forming a wall between him and Vlad. Who is being held in place by the third man.

Danny can see that Vlad was just as thrown off by these strangers as he is based on the startled look on his face. What confuses him though is when instead of becoming angry like he expects Vlad only looks surprised as he takes in the three guys with them.

"Bruce Wayne!" Vlad announces with a tight grin, "I was just trying to get my son to cooperate with me and get in the car. I'm sure you understand how teenage boys are."

"I'm not your son!" Danny instinctively yells out; no way in hell was he going to let Vlad tell people they were any way related.

It took him a second to register what name Vlad had even said.

Bruce Wayne? He remembers Sam and Tucker talking about that guy and his family when they found out he was going to Gotham. Which means if he's remembering correctly then the young man next to Vlad is most likely Dick Grayson and the older teen next to him is Tim Drake.

Without looking at him Bruce leans towards him and whispers, "Shh Damian, let me handle this."

Wait. What?

"I'm not-" Danny tried to say that his name wasn't Damian, but was quickly interrupted before he could.

"Damian, quiet." Bruce lowly growls; still not moving his gaze to look at Danny. "Actually, Mr. Masters, you'll find that this is my son, and I don't think you should be putting your hands on him."

Vlad looks from Bruce to Danny and then back to Bruce, "While I do agree that you and Daniel share some resemblance this is not your son Mr. Wayne."

It seems Bruce wasn't going to entertain Vlad's "lie" because he still doesn't bother to even look at Danny. Tim on the other hand seems to consider what Vlad said, and turns to actually look at his face.

Danny almost laughs out loud when he sees shock immediately overtake Tim's face. At least one of these fruit loops is smart enough to recognize that he isn't the youngest Wayne.

"Bruce, this isn't Damian." Tim states with wide eyes still locked with his.

Upon hearing this the other two Wayne's finally take a hard look at Danny for themselves.

"Oh my God B, that's not Damian!" Dick exclaims before releasing his hold on Vlad.

Bruce on the other hand is frozen in shock as he stares at Danny as he comes to the realization that the boy in front of him is in fact not his youngest son. Snapping himself out of his stupor, the older man finally addresses Vlad. "Mr. Masters, my deepest apologies. It seems this young man and my son look remarkably alike, and I assumed the worst when I saw him fighting to get into the car."

Vlad takes a step forward towards Danny clear with his intentions of getting them into the car now, but before he can grab him Bruce is once more taking a step in front of Danny. "I would actually like to have a quick word with Daniel if you won't mind."

"And why is that?"

"I have a son his age after all, maybe I can help ease this teenage rebellion phase, and cause less fights when it comes to getting in the car."

Danny must have been more focused on the growing argument in front of him more than he thought because he ends up slightly jumping when he feels a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his right he sees that Dick is now standing next him with a soft smile. "Daniel, right?"

“Danny actually, and you’re Dick?”

"Yup! That's me," He gestures to the boy standing on Danny's other side, "and this is Tim. Sorry about all this; we thought our brother was being kidnapped."

"Do I seriously look that much like him?" At this point Danny had to meet Damian if the guy's family was even confusing the two of them.

Tim is giving him a concentrated look when he replies, "It's like the two of you could be twins or maybe even clones. The eye color is the biggest difference between the two of you."

If Danny didn't know any better he would think Tim was accusing him of being a clone based on the tone of his voice. He knew Gotham was weird, but he didn't think he would have to worry about cloning here. "While I was adopted when I was pretty young, but I think I'd know if I had a twin or if I was a clone."

"Crazy things happen all the time in Gotham."

Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Danny can't believe saying this, but it's probably time to get Vlad's attention and get the hell out of here. He already has one crazy fruitloop to worry about; he doesn't need more. "Vlad, I think we really need to-."

“Father, what is the meaning of all this?” A new voice interrupts him, and when he sees who it is truly shocking to see a mirror of his own face. The other is also now looking at him with something akin to shock and grief.

“Damian?”

“Danyal.”

[angelltheninth]

Cursed Tea Party

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, love potion, aphrodisiac, orgasm control, yandere behavior, rough sex, love confession, overstimulation, being cockdrunk

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: I don't remember when I wrote this or why but I did. And here it is for you all. A bit more dark than usual.

There was something wrong with you. You could tell ever since you left the tea party. Actually before then. It was the reason you left, you couldn't stand being there anymore, with your head spinning, body getting so hot you had to take off your uniform jacket and loosen up your bowtie to make breathing easier. It didn't help. Maybe a cold shower would do, if not, maybe one of the toys you had hidden away in your closet.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I could escort you back if you're sick." Riddle was the first one to notice how bad you were looking. It was his party so naturally he wanted to keep an eye on all the attendees.

"No, no!" The moment his voice reached your ears the throbbing and heat became nearly too much to handle. You had an urge to push him down, kiss him, tell him about every sinful fantasy you've ever had and beg for him to be the to fulfill them. "I swear I'm alright, I think I may have caught something. But I can make it back on my own."

None of the boys seemed to happy about that. You promised you'd call one of them when you're in your room and let them know you're fine. That was an hour ago. How could you get so lost in the labyrinth? Riddle didn't change it, as far as you knew. Every turn seemed to lead nowhere. Left, right, going back, nothing worked. You were simply lost. Lost and so painfully horny.

"Oh my, are you still here?" When did Riddle get behind you? Was he here to help you? "I thought I sensed someone here. What's the matter? Are you lost?" He walked up to you with the grace of a ruler, his crown perfectly in place, staff twirled in his hand and a very amused smile on his lips. So fucking sexy. "You're making a puddle. Hm, perhaps I put in a little too much." He frowned for a moment but then shrugged it off, like it didn't seem like vital information.

"Too much? What do you-" He took your hand in his, his touch and lips so hot they hurt your skin. It was nothing compared to the vines and thorns that crept up behind you and bound you up against the labyrinth wall. "Riddle? What's going on? What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Unfortunately I can't do that, my sweet rose. What you consumed in your tea was a very powerful aphrodisiac. I should have considered the dosage more carefully. I'm sorry for putting you through that, but it's alright, I'm here to help you now. I'll make it all better." His little chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, and not the nice kind. Your mind was torn, run or ask him to help?

Help? He just admitted he was the reason this was happening! But he was also the one offering to help. No, he was the one in the wrong here!

While you had your inner turmoil you didn't notice him undoing his pants and starting to stroke his cock, "I took some too you see. You're not alone, you'll never be alone again with me around. I'll take care of you, I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had." Another sinister laugh left his mouth, his eyes blown wide, the crown now slightly on its side, "I've been waiting for this." Riddle used the top of his staff to spread your legs and move your panties to the side. The cold ruby pressed against your aching clit, the sound that left your body a cross between a moan and a pained whine. "Hurts right? I'll make you better love, I'll make it all better."

His cock came as sweet relief to your empty pussy, "Riddle..." You could barely think about anything, everything felt like it was too much, but his cock... it was perfect and just what you needed.

"Did you just come?" Riddle looked so happy with himself, his hips barely moving while he waited for your pussy to stop fluttering around his length. "I just put it in. You must have been suffering without my cock."

"I didn't. I didn't come." It was shameful to admit otherwise. This wasn't what you wanted to happen, how you wanted it to happen. "Not like this." You turned your face from him but your mouth still moaned when he thrust into you, "Don't... please stop moving... it's too much for me." Riddle never listened to anyone, you weren't about to change the King's mind either.

"I love you, I love dearest. Don't you see? I love you so much. After I saw you on my first party I had to get close to you, but you always hung around everyone else. You wouldn't even sit next to me!" You heard him yell before, a lot in fact, this was a different tone, broken, desperate, "Please understand. Understand how much I love you, I'm helping you realize it. Please."

What should have sounded like the unhinged ramblings of a madman wormed their way into your heard, warped your mind, made you finally look at him.

"Finally. You're looking, you're looking at me! Look down here too! See how well your pussy takes my cock? It's greedy! It wants this! You want this! You want me as much as I want you! Don't you?! Don't you, my beautiful rose?!" The warmth at the pit of your stomach returned at full force, the loud, crazy sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, burning lust and devotion reflecting your flushed face with such clarity, as well as how clouded your mind had become.

"I do love you." Riddle's face lit up with glee, the words freeing you of doubt that you weren't sure why it was there in the first place. Riddle was helping you, who are you to refuse his help? "I love you." You chuckled, "I've loved you for so long." Another laugher, a little bit louder, "Riddle."

Your back arched as far as it was able, stars dancing in front of your eyes, pussy twitching around Riddle's hard cock. "You're so tight! I'll make this one better for you! I'll make your cunt feel so good, let me fill it up." Your constant stream of pleas was only broken when you felt it, his cock emptying inside your, ropes of it painting your sensitive inner walls.

When he leaned against you to catch his breath you'd noticed the tight pressure around your wrists release. Now you were free to hold him, and he was free to hold you, now that you were fully complaint.

"Let's take you back to my castle. After today I think we should start moving your things there. And maybe inform the Principle that you'll be doing online classes only. I don't want anyone else laying their eyes or hands on you." Riddle gathered you in his arms, your body fully limp against him, pussy still pulsing with need around his cock, "There, there. You'll get more, don't you worry." He pressed a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. The two of you began your way back through the maze, Riddle's crown forgotten where you'd just been.

[covenofagatha]

If you're still taking requests I'd love to suggest Agatha x fem reader smut with mutual maturation and Agatha guiding inexperienced reader through dry humping after finding out

It took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this story, but a lightbulb clicked today and it was all I could think about so I really hope everyone likes it!

Forgive me, Father

After feeling something that you shouldn't have, you go to confession and Father Agatha helps you repent

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: confessional booth sex, father kink (?), religious imagery, masturbation, thigh riding, slight dubcon, reader is completely innocent and inexperienced and thinks any kind of sex is a sin, corrupt priest agatha, so sacrilegious lol

You slide into the confessional booth, stomach twisting and palms sweating. 

You were practically a regular there, always looking to assuage your guilt about the bad things you did: accidentally saying the Lord’s name in vain, getting too angry when your brother turned off the television and snapping at him, harboring a grudge against a stranger who cut you off while driving. 

You strived more than anything to be a good girl, and when you did something bad, it ate you alive. 

Except this time, it wasn’t just a small sin. 

No, it was much worse than anything you had confessed about earlier. 

The door to the conjoining part of the booth opens and you hear someone sit down. 

“What is the matter, my child?” The priest says, and you’re surprised to hear a woman’s voice. You didn’t know women could become priests, nor that your parish had one. 

You do the sign of the cross and say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession.”

“What do you have to confess?” 

You take a deep breath, wiping your hands on your legs to try and dry them off. “Last night, I was at a friend’s house reading Scripture and her older sister was watching a movie in the other room. When I went to the bathroom, I saw a glimpse of it.” 

You stop talking, afraid of the next part. The priest makes a sound to urge you on. 

“I don’t know what movie it was, but there were two women kissing,” you tell her, shuddering. “Which I know is a sin, but then I felt something inside me.” 

“What did you feel, child?” She asks. You can hear her breathing closer to the partition like she’s leaning towards you. 

Tears prick your eyes. “I felt, um, like this heat in my stomach? And almost like I was empty? When I went to the bathroom, there was a wetness in my underwear.” 

The priest thinks for a second and then tuts. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, shame bubbling up. “But it was wrong, and I know that. I’m sorry, Father! What is my penance?” 

“There is something that can be done when you feel like that, you know,” she says slyly, her voice getting low and thick with something, and your heart stutters. 

Surely she can’t be talking about–

“Have you ever touched yourself?” She asks. 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim indignantly. “Masturbation is a sin. You can only be touched down there by your husband.” It’s the same words you’ve heard your entire life. 

“I bet you didn’t know that those rules don’t apply to priests,” she says and your brows furrow in confusion. “Since we are not allowed to marry.” 

You swallow. “Really?” Curiosity is getting the better of you and you’re starting to feel warm. You can almost hear her nodding her head. 

“Really. And as a priest, I’m giving you permission to try. It will make you feel good and relieve the tension you feel.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you can feel flickers of heat in your stomach. But you shake your head in frustration. “I don’t know how to,” you admit. 

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll help you?” She says, sounding like a cat who just got the cream. Feeling better, you step out of your side and into hers. 

It’s a tight fit, and through the dimly lit space, you get your first look at the priest you’ve been talking to and your mouth parts. 

Her dark, curly hair frames her face and falls down past her breasts. Her striking blue eyes, although you can see barely any of the cerulean color with how large her pupils are, seem to pierce through your soul. They rake up and down your body, taking in your jean shorts and Youth Group t-shirt from years ago.

You can feel your pulse somewhere between your legs and it’s like the feeling from last night, only amplified. 

“Please, Father,” you beg, although not sure what you’re asking for. She smirks and motions for you to take a step closer. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees, angel? Like you do when you pray.”

You obey and wince at the cold tile. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you lay your palms face up on your thighs and look at her. 

She bites her lip at the sight, something flashing in her eyes. “Very good. Now, unbutton your jeans and slide a hand inside.” 

Something stops you, a feeling nagging inside your brain. You’re still not convinced that this isn’t a sin, and she sees your hesitation. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll show you what to do,” she says, and she begins pulling up her robes. Your fingers twitch against your thighs and the feeling inside you grows. Once they’re around her waist, she moves her underwear to the side to reveal her private parts to you. 

“Is it supposed to be that wet?” You question, absolutely enraptured by what she looks like. You’ve never even really examined your own that closely, but she has two flaps of skin that look like they’re practically matted together with wetness and she’s glistening. Jesus Christ himself could come down to earth right now and you wouldn’t even care. 

She nods and runs a hand through, parting her folds and letting you see more of her. 

“Yes, if you’re this wet, that means your pussy is ready,” she says and you blush at the vulgar word. “And this up here-” She cuts off to circle her finger on something at the top of her pussy. “-is your clit. This is what you want to focus on.” 

She rubs herself more and her head slightly drops back with a moan. It’s like your body is being consumed with hellfire. 

This priest is both the apple and the snake in the Garden of Eden, and you are the poor mortal fool about to give into temptation and sin. 

“That feeling inside you?” She whispers, and your eyes lock on hers, waiting for the answer to salvation. “This is how you get rid of it.” 

She slides a finger into herself and groans louder and you can’t resist unbuttoning your shorts and cupping yourself through your underwear. 

“Father…” You rasp, hesitating because you realize you don’t know her name. 

“Agatha,” she says, moving in and out. “Play with your clit, angel. Rub it.” 

You struggle to find it, but when you do, your entire body jerks with pleasure. She chuckles above you and you’re reminded of the stained glass windows in the parish of disciples kneeling at the altar before Jesus.

Is that what the two of you look like right now?

Like you’re revering Father Agatha?

That’s what it feels like. 

You can feel how wet you’ve gotten through your underwear and you squirm at the stickiness. You keep stroking that special spot, watching the priest do the same, but it feels like you just need more. The blaze inside you is only growing more and you feel like you need relief or you’ll die.

“Father Agatha,” you whine and you don’t miss how her hips buck. “I can’t do it by myself, I need help. It’s only getting worse.” 

She pouts. “Of course it is, angel. That means it’s working. Although, if you really want to feel good, why don’t you let me guide you?” 

You stiffen involuntarily, even though your body is screaming to let her. “If you touch me there, I’ll be impure.” 

She thinks hard for a minute, tapping her finger to her lip and then her face lights up. “I won’t touch you there, then.” 

You frown and she beckons you up. She parts her legs and pats one of them. You stare at her, completely confused as to what she wants you to do.

“Take off your shorts and sit on my thigh with your underwear. We won’t be touching and it won’t be a sin.”

You can’t find any holes in that logic, so you obey and you let out a gasp when you drop your pussy right onto her leg. You moan. Having a strong muscle to move against makes the pleasure so much more intense and you rut against it frantically. 

“There you go, angel. Make yourself feel good,” she encourages, putting her hands on your hips to guide you down harder. Each drag of your clit against her skin, even through your wet fabric, pulls a sound out of your mouth. 

“Father, please, so good, more,” you pant. 

You shall not make false idols. You have definitely broken that commandment as you have fully given yourself over to worshipping this woman. 

“Oh, my God, please.”

You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. There’s another one. 

“Father Agatha, something’s happening to me!” Heat and tension are rising and twisting and building and making you so tense that you think you’re about to snap. 

She smirks and digs her fingernails into your hips to move you faster. “Let go, angel. That’s the best part.” 

You remember hearing the story of Noah’s ark in nursery school. How God warned him of a flood and to gather two of every animal before he overflowed the earth. 

You feel that flood now in your body, except it’s pleasure rushing through your veins, like a dam has broken. 

Your head slumps onto her shoulder. “What was that?” 

“That was an orgasm,” she says, sounding very proud of herself. “Reproduction isn’t the only reason people have sex.” 

Your face turns red. “But – no, we didn’t – that wasn’t sex, I couldn’t have had one of those, I’m not married!” 

Your protests only make her grin more and she brushes a piece of hair from your sweaty face. “Oh, you’re so innocent, angel. I’m a priest, remember? The rules are different for us. And if you’re still feeling guilty, do eight Hail Mary’s.” 

You nod, mind reeling from that. You will certainly have to pray later. But there’s something else you can’t stop thinking about. “But what if that feeling comes back?”

She smirks and there’s a glint in your eye that both makes you want more and terrifies you. “Then you come back for more confessions until we can get rid of all those dirty thoughts.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If we like, I have an idea for a part 2 that lines up with another request

[yvesntul]

vi x fem reader ୨୧ ♡

minors dni, use of vibrator, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, squirting, light degrading, praise kink, wlw n 18+ only dpmo pls

i was told twice that someone on here is straight up stealing my fics n claiming it’s theirs but i believe i’m blocked cs i’ve found nothing lol if u come across anything lmk

' you can give me another one, right angel ? ‘ she spoke softly, eyes observing you in front of her, how your face and body reacted to what she had you under. hardened tits poking through the thin material of your white top, and your panties thrown to the ground. you were on your third orgasm, making your way to the fourth. the toy's low vibration making you squirm with the overstimulation, urging you to clench your thighs. in which you did, only resulting in her hand spreading your legs back open, her other still holding the vibrator against your bud.

‘ nah, don't give me that shit, you can take it, ‘ her words making you whine with furrowed eyebrows. ‘ t's too much vi.. can’t— ahh— ‘ she increased the pressure by one, which had cut you off as you barely choked up your words. ‘ poor baby ‘ she mouthed and only held back a smile, your legs quivering under her touch, your breath heavy but slow paced. ‘ one more, princess. just like before, don't give out on me now. " she smirked, watching the way your core would pulsate.

her hand that held your thigh apart now separating the folds of your cunt, making your hips buck. using her two fingers, she collected the slick that glistened in the moonlight from your previous orgasms. without warning, she slid her middle finger in making you gasp, the contact from the toy and her finger inside of you making you throw your head back. she watched your faces as she slowly pumped in and out of you, bringing the vibrator down one notch to it's original pressure from before. she kept her eyes on your face a bit longer, before slowly slipping in her index finger and making it two, having you jolt from pleasure you began to feel.

‘ you like this now, don't you ? already being needy, as usual. ‘ she stated as her fingers slipped in and out at an average pace halfway. not fast, not slow, but you wanted it faster. she knew you did, based on the way you were clenching around her and attempted to fuck yourself on her fingers, which you hadn't even noticed you were doing, too caught up in how good it felt. ‘ that feel good, baby ? ‘ she teased, just five seconds ago you blabbered about it being too much and now you're working towards your peak, desperately.

‘ mm more— please, feels so good. ‘ you moaned out. a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down the side of your forehead, the temperate felt humid compared to when you first orgasmed. the tiny mewls that escaped your mouth were music to her ears. just with that, her fingers reached your spot knuckles deep. her gaze was calculated to your cunt, watching your hole clench as if wanting something more to fill it. ‘ there she is .. you close ? ‘ she averted her eyes to your face. ‘ yes, yes— please, 'm so closeee, ‘ you're gasping, arching your back from the bed and shooting her a pleaded look out of eagerness. ‘ i got you, you look so pretty right now, you know ? ‘ she’s not asking, she tells you before the pace of her fingers quickens.

slipping in and out so easily as she turned up two notches on the toy against your puffy clit, striking the pleasure in you two times better. ‘ fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god— wanna cum, vi .. 'm gonna cum — ! ‘ you squealed at the stimulation added, your walls were clenching around her digits, feeling your entire body rush with tense. ‘ such a good girl, that's it, princess. knew you could do it. ' your legs start to shake slightly, gripping the sheets tight as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten by the second. ‘ holy shittt— ‘ your lewd sounds filling the room before you're making a mess all over her fingers, she’d drilling them into you faster than she had before.

‘ fuck, you're squirting. ‘ she spoke as the cream coated her fingers each time she pumped into you, she felt her breath quiver at the sight, and oh, how she loved seeing you in this state. your cum gushing out of your tight cunt with your liquids splattering onto your thighs, the bed, the toy, including her arm. ‘ uhuh, there you go, cmon, let it all out for me, angel. ‘ vi cooed, she leaves you in a drenched and twitching mess, helping you through the end of your orgasm. you're panting, barely processing what just happened.

a wave of embarrassment coming over you as she moved the vibrator away from your clit and pulled her fingers out of you, clear juices immediately leaking onto the bed. ‘ fuck, i'm sorry— i didn't think that .. ‘ you were panicked, trying to get the right words to come out. ' there’s no reason to be sorry. if anything, you did better than good, baby. ‘ she looked up at you, noticing that her comment made you flustered as she huffed a laugh, reaching over and pulling you into deep kiss.

it’s my mf birthday felt nice here yall go

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Bestie! Once again, I am absolutely obsessed with your work! Jason is absolutely adorable and a bit of a dork, and I fall in love with him every time!! Just him doing things for you without looking for a thanks or a reward is so him. (I talk about my fav parts below the cut)

“That red tin man…” You firmly looked over to the window, the shiny, newly replaced lock calling your name. “Let’s see how well your safety measures work.” You shut the window, doubling the two locks installed by Jason himself, giving you a personal pep talk ensuring that no one is getting in. Not even him, especially him.

Using his OWN safety measures against him?? Incredible. Insane. I'm on their side.

Jason was off patrol, his muscles ached, his helmet felt heavy, but he was grappling his way to the small 24-hour mart that he has been cutting the cameras at.

ughh, this paragraph is just such great storytelling. He's tired, he's pushing himself too hard, but he's still just thinking of you. How he can make your life better, easier.

It was perfect for a quick look in, place the items, and go back to his safe house. He gripped the window, gently trying to lift with the shopping bag on his arm. When it wouldn’t budge, he tried one more time with a little more force.

See, I love him for this, fr. But also, you're stopping by and not even planning on saying hi! Come when they're awake! We want to see you, I swear! And the fact he expected the window to open reads to me that we have not been using that lock at all, which has me giggling. We're unknowingly supporting his bad (but sweet) habit.

As Jason was going to turn on his infrared lenses, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

HA! Love the casual usage of vigilante gear

You: yes, jay, you do. So please use my front door cause you are welcome to use it Jason reread the message. He held his eyes on the word “welcome,” feeling his chest tighten slightly.

Omg my heart. He's acting like a stray, but he's wanted and welcomed at home

Hey, sorry, I’ve just been breaking in and refilling your groceries and anything that seems to be running low? I also got you some seasoning salt, you were running out.

Off topic, but I just know he got the good spices! Honestly, he's so sweet for taking care of them, but also let us return the favor! I just wanna make him a warm meal and wrap him in a blanket so he can sleep.

Jason noticed how tired you looked. He felt even worse picturing you staying up until he attempted to open your window. What if he hadn’t come by tonight? He didn’t move from the door, watching from just outside your apartment.

my heart!! OW! I'm yanking him inside and making him hot chocolate.

“Five months, 2 weeks.”

!!! 🫢

“Jay…I’m not mad.” You reached out to grab his hand, kneading warmth into his bruised knuckles. “Really. I just need you to tell me when you do this.”

The little, comforting touches are just so ahhh. Love it!

“You were busy…and I thought I could get them for you. I made sure to get the right ones.” Jason watched your hands, refusing to look at you directly.

He's a sweetheart, and I'm weak in the knees. Someone get him a forehead kiss and tuck him into bed.

“I know. You did so well that I took so long to realize. But, I work. I can get these things and you can get me things too, but let me know, please. That would help me out a lot and so I can thank you.” “But I don’t do it for your words. I like helping you. If it lessens your stress, I’ll do it for you.” Jason reasoned.

Singing his praises fr, he deserves it

“I’m not a burglar.” Jason argued, taking off his jacket and laying into the couch, grabbing you to lay on top of him.

This is just soo fluffy! I love it, and I'm giggling and kicking my feet over them! He's not a burglar, but he is precious. Fantastic work as always 🥰💙

Delivery

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Lately your grocery list was looking a little small, your cleaning supplies were never running out, and you don’t remember buying these soaps? Who was the one refilling all your stuff?

Word Count: 1.5k

Something was off.

You were writing your list for your weekly shopping errands to refill any soap, groceries, or cleaning supplies running low, but nothing was empty. Half a bottle at best.

It had been bothering you that your large restocks that made you wince at the end of the month looking at the large receipt had minimized to five items at most.

How was this possible?

You didn’t cut down on spending or on using less items, but now that you look at your kitchen, everything was well stocked.

You counted the amount of extra paper towel rolls, the extra unopened cleaning spray that you do not remember buying, and the new bottle of cooking oil in your cabinet.

This was suspicious, very suspicious.

Call yourself the world’s second greatest detective because you narrowed down the culprit restocking your home.

“That red tin man…” You firmly looked over to the window, the shiny, newly replaced lock calling your name. “Let’s see how well your safety measures work.”

You shut the window, doubling the two locks installed by Jason himself, giving you a personal pep talk ensuring that no one is getting in. Not even him, especially him.

With some duct tape, you taped layers over the window seal. As you looked at your work, you thought to yourself…bookcase, yes. A large bookcase.

With heavy breaths, you pushed the bookcase in front of the window.

You were not letting in your not-an-actual-burglar tonight. Now you would wait.

—

Jason was off patrol, his muscles ached, his helmet felt heavy, but he was grappling his way to the small 24-hour mart that he has been cutting the cameras at.

As much as he wouldn’t be shopping with his gear on, the small store was enough for him for a quick shop and the cashier was a tired college student who couldn’t care less about who walked through the sliding doors.

He remembered you were running low on some hand soap in the kitchen and a replacement seasoning salt.

He hummed as he shopped, walking up to the counter to leave extra cash and disappearing before the cashier had time to turn back to give him back his change.

Jason softly landed on the fire escape outside your window. He waited to watch and listen for any movement inside your apartment.

The lights were off and you had to be asleep.

It was perfect for a quick look in, place the items, and go back to his safe house.

He gripped the window, gently trying to lift with the shopping bag on his arm. When it wouldn’t budge, he tried one more time with a little more force.

He put down the plastic bag and noticed you were using the lock he installed. It brought a small smirk to his face at the thought of you utilizing something he made himself.

When he looked closer, he realized the small sliver of light on the edge of the window, blurring from the curtain.

Something was blocking the light, your lights hadn’t been off at all.

As Jason was going to turn on his infrared lenses, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

You: so you were my burglar

Jason held in his laugh, fully piecing the situation together.

Jason: but I haven’t stolen anything

You: so breaking and entering? This is illegal trespassing sir

Jason: glad the lock works, but have to deduct points for the duct tape

You: if it can hold cars together, it can hold my window shut, even better if it keeps vigilantes out of my home

Jason: but I still have your apartment keys

You: yes, jay, you do. So please use my front door cause you are welcome to use it

Jason reread the message. He held his eyes on the word “welcome,” feeling his chest tighten slightly.

Jason: let me change. Be back in 10

Jason felt like an idiot, realizing he had been caught. He pulled an ordinary T-shirt over his head. His matted hair slightly fraying to the movement.

He exhaled in exhaustion as he pulled a jacket over his shoulders and grabbed the plastic bag from earlier.

How was he going to explain?

Hey, sorry, I’ve just been breaking in and refilling your groceries and anything that seems to be running low? I also got you some seasoning salt, you were running out.

Jason smacked the side of his head.

You had to be pissed because you locked the window and clearly barricaded it.

Jason got to your door, somehow, he felt his eye-bags deepen, his frown get stronger, and his hands felt colder.

With reluctance, he knocked three times. You had unlocked the door surprisingly fast, he figured you were waiting right there until he got to your apartment.

“Come in.” You left the door open for Jason, walking back to the kitchen to pour your tea.

Jason noticed how tired you looked. He felt even worse picturing you staying up until he attempted to open your window.

What if he hadn’t come by tonight?

He didn’t move from the door, watching from just outside your apartment.

“I just wanted to bring these over, I’ll leave now.” He tried to run. He needed to leave before you told him to never come back.

“Jay…” You walked over, grabbing onto his sleeve while guiding him inside. He was cold. “Shoes off. Sit on the couch.”

He immediately obeyed not wanting to anger you more.

You followed and sat next to him, your comfy clothes sinking into the cushion.

Jason looked over to the bookcase you clearly moved not long ago.

“I didn’t realize I hired a delivery man. Actually, I’m more embarrassed I finally realized what you’ve been doing.” You sipped at your cup. “How long?”

Jason tilted his head at your question.

“How long, Jay?” You emphasized.

“Five months, 2 weeks.”

“Five months?!”

“I made sure to make it very subtle, but eventually I…got carried away.” Jason admitted, his body stiffening the more honest he became.

“Jay…I’m not mad.” You reached out to grab his hand, kneading warmth into his bruised knuckles. “Really. I just need you to tell me when you do this.”

“But the bookcase and the lock.” Jason subtly relaxed to your touch, but he was far from leaning into the couch comfortably.

“Okay, I was a little mad, but that was because I had only realized that I haven’t properly restocked anything in a while. I looked at my store apps and card history and I had nothing. Just snacks or last-minute purchases.” You sighed, signaling Jason to give you his other hand to warm.

“You were busy…and I thought I could get them for you. I made sure to get the right ones.” Jason watched your hands, refusing to look at you directly.

“I know. You did so well that I took so long to realize. But, I work. I can get these things and you can get me things too, but let me know, please. That would help me out a lot and so I can thank you.”

“But I don’t do it for your words. I like helping you. If it lessens your stress, I’ll do it for you.” Jason reasoned. He was stubbornly defending his actions because you were at the root of his mind.

You were at a loss for words.

“It did help me out a lot, but it also confused me when I had an unlimited bar of soap.” You chuckled.

The sound of your laugh eased Jason. His shoulders sunk a little lower at your tension easing.

“No more frowning.” You rubbed the edges of his mouth and his furrowed brow. “I found out, you owe me dessert tomorrow, and you can get back your window privileges when you let me know when you buy me something.” You yawned.

“I said that I don’t do it to hear you thank me—“ He tried to remind you.

“I know, but I’m tired from trying to catch my burglar and I want to cuddle.” You opened your arms, waiting for Jason to ease into your embrace.

“I’m not a burglar.” Jason argued, taking off his jacket and laying into the couch, grabbing you to lay on top of him. “Did you also take another shift? You look exhausted.”

You rubbed Jason’s eye-bags when you settled comfortably. You were probably matching his raccoon eyes.

“Kiss me and I’ll go to sleep.” You smiled, sleepily touching Jason’s stubble with your hands.

He leaned into your hands, while gripping underneath your chin to bring his face to yours. The sweet touch of your lips was enough to get Jason to fully relax into you, to take in the moment and trust that you weren’t mad at him for what he was doing. It had been with good intentions, but he was just taking a different route.

“Go to bed.” Jason leaned your head onto his chest.

Your eyes got heavy, your breathing was starting to even out, but you had one last idea.

“If you tell me when you buy something, I’ll give you a kiss.” You faded into a deep sleep.

Jason had never forgot to tell you again, he even purposefully bought you extra things you didn’t need to buy.

You eventually had to start setting limits and unlocked your window for your favorite vigilante visits.

[goditsmeagain]

buck realising his feelings à la the new girl 'its nick' scene because this man will not question the platonic nature of his undying love unless someone points it out to him

[starrycassi]

VERY old and uncooked au I have where Viktor (and eventually jayce) end up working for Silco.

PART 1 - VIKTOR (childhood, adolescence, survival)

Singed actually takes the child in. Yeah I know Viktor technically HAS parents but we've never seen em in the show so I'm ignoring them

So Viktor now lives + works for singed. He gets over his morals real quick when faced with a fully equipped laboratory. He's a child, okay? He gets excited and is eventually groomed (I don't mean romantically, just like molded) by singed into agreeing + obeying all the things the older man tells him. Silco joins in on the part later and toys with his brain as best as he can

Singed uses him as a bargaining chip with Silco. An investment, if you will.

A bit of a "future promise" thing. Viktor actually agrees to this because he knows it's the best shot he's got. All the years living alongside Singed have made him into a more cynical/realistic person. He's 13 and already grumbles at "kids these days"

And Silco is an opportunistic man. He looks at this young, blooming genius and goes "yeah, why not? He is your problem, though. Have some money and make me a bomb"

Viktor also gets a pretty decent gun and shooting lessons. His aim is decent enough. He also hangs around sevika A LOT. He recognizes her as the strongest, safest individual if a fight breaks out and tells her ad much. She won't admit it but the praise feels good. She allows him to hover around and he helps her with small things like lighting hee cigarettes or refilling her flask. It's a symbiotic relationship where they both look at each other dead in the eye when someone is saying stupid shit.

So Viktor is like 15 and suddenly faced with even MORE power and recognition, even MORE fundings and accomodations.

This boy pours his life and time into making weapons. His dreams of being a scientist are slowly forgotten as both Singed and Silco effectively turn him into their perfect little genius.

They turn his desire to help against himself, telling him that the only way the under city will ever get better is if they go against piltover and win (which yeah I mean it kinda makes sense) and just general promises and such

Silco is genuinely surprised by how inventive the kid can be, and in return Viktor appreciates the man's offers and words for what it is: a trap he's wilfully walking in.

Silco does NOT feel any affection for the kid. At least not a lot more than he does for sevika or any other loyal worker. He is amused by his intelligence and somewhat entertained by his ideas. He seems Viktor as more of a small dog he's raising, expecting him to develop sharper and sharper fangs. He does care for Viktor in the "one of my youngest workers is more efficient and savvy than five of yours" way

Viktor doesn't feel any affection for Silco, either. He's a really down-to-earth kid, has lived in the fissures all his life and has been coached by singed into how to navigate the under city. He knows singed doesn't really trust the man and doesn't plan on doing so himself. He does love the opportunity he's given, but knows damn well that it's all done for a higher reason.

He does feel a connection with singed, though. It's mutual in a way. More of a mentor-mentee thing than any paternal/familiar relationship, but they're both satisfied with it. Singed respects Viktor and treats him as an equal, which also means he can a bit too harsh on what is essentially still a fragile teen.

They are protective of Viktor only in the way one is protective of their own gun

PART 2 - VIKTOR (last of his teen years, young adulthood, rage)

EVENTUALLY Viktor manages to worm his way into the academy (in the same way he did in canon) while hiding from Silco, Singed and Sevika, and is, instead, rejected. Heimerdinger is too weary of Viktor and his general attitude (for a good reason) and plans on having him interrogated. When he tries to get Viktor to walk alone into a room with him, Viktor panics and starts stuttering out explanations. He knows his position in the under city is conditional. Knows the leash that Silco has around him. The academy could be his safe haven and now he's losing it.

Heimerdinger does his best to try and calm him down, however, every word he says makes the situation worse. He's so clearly out of touch, promising things that could never be done.

Viktor is under a lot of pressure and just starts spiraling. Everything the yordle says makes things worse and worse. The commotion calls the school guards attention and Viktor gets almost thrown in jail, all while heimerdinger tries to tell the guards to let him go. Viktor eventually manages to sneak out but fucks his leg up even more in the process.

He returns "home" and, refusing to cry for such a thing, turns his sadness into bright, burning indignation. Silco might be an idiot, he realizes, but he's right about some things. He burns down the uniform after ripping it into shreds.

After all of this, he abandons any dream of ever getting out. Singed looks at him knowingly, tells him that sneaking around is a fine art he hasn't mastered yet, and leaves. Silco welcomes him back with a satisfied smile, and a "see, boy? I was right"

Silco isn't killing Viktor for his betrayal because he smells the heartbreak and KNOWS that this is the time to attack if he wants that boy to be on his side for the rest of his life. Sevika isn't even mad. Just kinda disappointed.

And it WORKS. Viktor is devastated and isolated, and Silco effectively positions himself as the only current logical option. Viktor knows that this is all a shit show but decides that there's nothing to lose by working for the biggest kingpin on the city

Years go by, Viktor becomes part of silco's inner gang. He develops what could be seen as a friendship with sevika. They drink together every so often, trash-talking the rest of the henchmen in hushed whispers in between assignments. She tries to give him life advice in cryptic ways. He kinda gets it. Most of the time.

He's also a bit of a slut. I mean he's young, hot, kinda part of Zaun's elite, smart... yeah he's getting around. This part is important I swear. No it's not I just want Viktor to get it on. He's constantly sneaking pretty boys in and out of wherever he's staying at that week (idk where the fuck sevika sleeps. Do silco's henchmen just sleep in his house??? Does he provide apartments?? I need to know)

People in the under city actually start *talking* to Viktor as he gets older, realizing that he's a bit less violent than the rest of silco's thugs. This is always weird to him but he endures it for the sake of staying on top of what's being said in the city.

He buys from benzo frequently, and Benzo tolerates him because once, very slowly and in a hushes tone, he heard Viktor tell Ekko to never work for anyone with a shark aquarium.

PART THREE - MEETING JAYCE.

He's in the very same shop when he meets jayce.

He goes "yeah I could get him to suck me off probably" and tries to approach

And then jayce pays in GOLD and DOESN'T HAGGLE

And he realizes that this idiot is a piltie. He also realizes that whatever the fuck he just bought could've been useful for him and silco will not like it if a PILTIE out of everyone takes them. He literally gets in between him and the door with absolutely no idea of what he's going to do (there is absolutely no way he's upping that payment sorry silco you are no match for the Kirammans)

There is no time and he defaults to "oh this is my bedroom" mode.

Cue him saying something like "I've never seen such a pretty face in this store. Are you from around here, darling?"

Ekko is gagging in the background.

They flirt yada yada I have the scene but it's too long to write here. U get the idea. I'd anyone wants to read that ask me but for now just use your imagination

Viktor offers Jayce to come back with him to his house. Ask this is happening the kids are staging the heist.

They make out a bit, Jayce tells Viktor all about his theory (which is arguably hotter for Viktor) and shows him his notes (because obviously he carries his journal with him)

Viktor is BLOWN AWAY by this. He gets all worked up. Never felt this horny before. They discuss for a while, and Viktor decides that THIS is something he can stand behind. Actual discoveries, not just drawing blueprints after blueprint of the same fucking thing

Really how many ways can one design a weapon in

Anyways

Viktor sort of mildly drugs jayce and steals three of the shiny orbs and then wakes Jayce up and tells him that this was delightful and such.

PART FOUR - Hey Silco Can We Adopt This Boy. For Science

The heist happens the very same way. Viktor hears about it, about the trial, and decides that all these years of work should get him some privileges

He has his very first actual fight with Silco and Singed about it, but they eventually and very reluctantly agreed to give him two bodyguards so he can go play prince and break jayce out of jail.

Silco knows that even a worm will turn. If Jayce does agree to work for them, then they get another good worker. If not, they can always kill him. He's never heard Viktor this adamant about someone before, and damn he's seen the boy walk around with some pretty faces. Maybe this Jayce fella truly is smart.

Viktor breaks jayce out do NOT ask me how #thepoweroflove or whatever. The henchmen get to punch enforcers so they're happy about it.

The "am I interrupting?" Scene happens. It's also too long so.

It takes Viktor a while to convince Jayce to, yk, betray his country and leave everything he's ever known behind, but Jayce was literally about to kill himself and Viktor is talking about change and help and people who actually need it (lies) and he looks so beautiful under the moonlight and he remembered him. So. Really what can one realistically do in this situation if not agree.

They rush back, Jayce leaves a hasty suicide note and says he will drown himself in the river, they break into heimerdinger's room via breaking down the fucking door, steal all the equipment they can carry (henchmen & co brought some bags okay??)

When Mel arrives they're gone. She calls for the guards to come but they're long gone (there might be a motorcycle involved. Cyclists Viktor... Yeah)

PART FIVE - JINX AND JAYCE

Viktor shows up and finds out that silco has adopted a child. Also Sevika doesn't have an arm. Also Vander is dead. So is Benzo. Which is a bummer.

Jayce hates everything that's going on around him buts this man is SUICIDAL he's just kinda going with the flow. Having him gives Viktor his backbone and morals back. Slowly. Ver slowly.

Hextech develops WAY slower. Like they're working in a drug den there's absolutely no way there's the same conditions. They're doing their best though.

Jayce Is actually really impressed by shimmer and how it can "help" people. He's gaslighting himself ATP and everyone else is enabling him.

Also eventually Silco also gives Viktor a laced brace that makes him mildly addicted to shimmer. Viktor is clever enough to realize what's going on but also experienced enough to know that refusal would be seen as an offense. He takes the brace on and off with his own prototypes. Sevika and him both know they're just digging themselves into a deeper hole.

Silco actually tries to kill jayce one because he was getting too fucking annoying, but Jinx steps in. He reminds him of claggor (in a way). She claims that they're both her friends and silco just seethes in silence.

They help raise her. Kinda.

I wrote all of this so I could successfully say that they have a tea party with jer

THEY LOVE LIL JINX OKAAY. Specially jayce. He takes all his emptiness and tries to fill it with love for her and Viktor, the only two people he feels are kind of honest to him

Also Jayce being jealous of the fact that Viktor got around, specially when he has the audacity to give powder boy's advice (sevika is a STONE TOP LESBIAN you can NOT tell me anything else) right in Jayce's face. Yeah. Miscommunication. Falling in love. Devotion and guilt. Feelings of owing. Hesitant kisses and never said words. YEEES. I know it's a bit tropey but I like it so. Yeah.

Also both Jayce and Vik have long hair. Jinx insisted they let it grow like hers. Jayce's actually reaches his shoulder plates/mid back while Viktor keeps it shoulder length, just long enough to tie it. I think. Still haven't decided since long hair Jayce is too hard to mentally picture but I know he would look GOOD

Yes this also means that Jayce and Vi meet even earlier. They take a look at each other as they both try to calm down jinx and Become Best Friends™

Caitlyn always has a heart attack because YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. She, like Vi, goes "yeah silco is definitely keeping my sister/brother captive" and they're both like You Will Not Believe This.

Viktor doesn't join them in their adventures because he is Not jumping around the roofs. He uses a cane. Leave him alone jinx no he can't climb the stupid ass tower.

Jinx and Jayce become a sort of "ground control" thing. Jayce is BUFFED that man can stand his own in a fight. He's not as quick or flexible but he makes up for it in pure absolute brawn. They're not actually doing anything useful they're just entertaining Jinx every so often.

Idk guys this au is consuming my brain.

I have more ideas but this was way too long already

If u read this far u can actually ask for a small scene on the au or add an idea and I'll write it for u

[pseudonymphomania]

The future can never be known beforehand, but in your crystal ball eyes I see myself and what you want me to be.

Yuki’s Fandom Analysis and Thoughts

It was after midnight when I saw the news. I was heading to bed and was struck by this thing that has now caused Obey Me to be a trending topic in gaming today, something it hadn’t done in quite a while. Shock, dismay, hope, despair, relief, commiseration, joy, emptiness. Sleeplessness. I took a nap after the Ferris wheel of emotions from talking with everyone and seemed to process the entire gamut of emotion in those few hours, then I went to work because it was just a normal day.

I cried at work. [secretly]

I smartly decided to take a day off today. Throughout, I kept an eye on all my social medias and saw the range of opinions about where the game should have gone or could go next, some rampant rage, confusion, but mostly just sadness. Posts lamenting, posts agonizing, because this is what fandom is. We are all the emotions that can ever exist and at any given point we as individuals become fixated on a certain genre of them. No matter what we each thought to ourselves about individual elements, we are joined here by this love that we feel for the game because we can only feel a loss this strongly if we also love just as strongly.

I decided to take a breather from social media and opened the apps. It felt so strange. Obey Me wasn’t an mmorpg. There was never any physical people in there aside from the friends we got ap from. The tactile features, the noises, texts and pop ups were the same, so why did it feel so empty?

It’s because the fandom was mourning. I realized that when the fandom is joy, I am joy. When the fandom is sad, I am sad. I and you and others are fandom and fandom is what made the games what they are. Fun.

We are what keeps this world running.

Everything we had as a fandom, as friends, acquaintances, even if you were just a random blurb attached to squishy avatar to me, all this was meaningful beyond the constraints of the game.

But we are hurt. If we are to take Obey Me’s rules to heart where we are the MC of our universe, this was literally world-shaking news. We need to allow ourselves to process these feelings (even me, who didn’t treat the inhabitants as my romantic partner). We need to do it on our own terms and not on someone else’s timeline.

The official statement is vague on purpose, and everyone is preparing themselves for the end, but the future can never be realized beforehand. I don’t care for self-fulfilling prophecies if the only reward at the end is being able to say “I was right”. They gave me a rescue hook and I’m skewering myself on it. I’m passionate about what I love and I’ll let it drive my action; whether critically or lovingly. We took a hit yesterday and I’m still feeling it today, but that’s exactly why I want to support this fandom in anyway I know how in whatever way I know how.

Here is where you’ll find me.

(I remastered my “Hug Day” art for this. I usually repost the original when I’m feeling sad and Diavolo’s stupid silly face actually makes me less sad. Imagining this big awkward dude earnestly trying to make me feel better puts the smile back on my face where it belongs, so let me eat my bittersweets and don’t tell my dentist)

Live discussion on Reddit

[k-yurieee]

'ALMOST ALWAYS' CHAPTER 4 IS HERE!! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! 🎉🎉

(Edit 3 : I started writing this post/reblog last week Monday. Don't worry about what day it is today. I just kept nitpicking at it and having more thoughts that I wanted to add everytime I came back to this, and time kept getting away from me because of irl events, sooo yeah. Stuff happens.)

Edit 1 : My usual yapping will be under the cut for this one, cause I might ramble on for bit longer than usual today. Yeah, I've got some things to say. They might not be particularly intelligible, but is anything I ever say on this app comprehensible? Probably not. Soooooo buckle up I guess 🤷‍♀️

Edit 2 : (also please ignore that I'm posting this like wayyyy after I've read this chapter, I had this saved and edited as a draft and thought I had posted it after editing it, before I decided to take a nap, but... Guess I was mistaken lol. And sleep deprived, but that's besides the point. Also I guess the draft didn't even save properly earlier??? Because I'm rereading the whole thing now and I'm pretty sure there's stuff I added earlier that seems to be missing now so.... That's sooo fun haha 🙃 I'll try to re-add anything I can remember 🫡)

Edit 1 (continued) : ohhhhh my gosh, this chapter was another ✨emotional rollercoaster✨ (which isn't anything new with this series, and honestly I should've expected it but mannnn, it just gets me every. single. time 😭😭😔)

Let me just quickly gush about this part first because EEEEEEEEhEEhEEEeeeee I can never NOT giggle and kick my feet over sweet moments like this, are you KIDDING me, I'm an absolute sucker for fluff, and I will die on that hill (also I just need to let myself simmer in this fluffy warmth before I divulge into my slightly more serious thoughts, I'll get to those in a second but firsttttt LOOK AT THIS ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEE👇👇👇😭😭😭😭)

'You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.'

When I tell you this made me wanna scream (wouldn't be the first time this fic affected me this way lolll) into my hands and jump up and down 😭😭😭 like girl can you PLEASE be normal (and by 'you', I mean 'I', as in ME. I need to relax lmaoooo 🙃)

This chapter... This chapter was so much. I truly am not sure how to put into proper words everything it made me feel, but I will try. Honestly I feel (and have felt) more than a bit conflicted about them (Joe & R, obvs). And I mean, that's kind of expected, right?

I want to support them but I also low-key want to smack them both upside their head sometimes (but like, in an affectionate 'why did you do that, you flippin idiot, I believe in you and know you can act better than this' kind of way)

It made me remember this quote I heard a while back that went something like "sometimes we dislike other people because we see the parts of ourselves that we dislike, in them". And it irked me because it reminded me of how I'd treated certain people in my life before, in ways that I'm not proud to admit. In one of the previous chapters, Joe had a thought somewhere along the lines of "I can't control my feelings, but I can control how I treat others", and I thought 'this is great, he knows how he should move forward, good for him, he's learned his lesson.' And I hoped it would be the same for the Reader character as well, and that both of them would implement this afterward.

And then... Then this chapter happened, and yeah, maybe they weren't in a completely committed relationship with the people who were sleeping in their beds, and maybe they 'weren't doing anything illegal', and all that, but... They could still be hurting someone else's feelings. Again. Low-key I had my face in my hands like "guys please, I know y'all can't stay away from each other, and I want you guys to end up together too but likeee there's got to be a better way to do this, pleaseeee" 🛐 😭

And maybe that's the point. They're human. They make mistakes. Sometimes they learn and grow from their past mistakes, and sometimes they continue doing the same stupid thing a million times over even if they know it won't end well for them. And it was when they made those questionable choices, when they tried to pretend that their problems didn't exist, when they constantly made excuses and kept repeating the same regrettable cycle over and over – it was during of all those moments that I looked at these characters, and I saw a part of myself. Parts of myself that I didn't like, but acknowledged was there nonetheless. It was these aspects that I could personally relate to.

This is why they feel so fucking REAL to me.

I just really hope things will end well for everyone in the last chapter because mannnn 🥲🥲😭

'But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.'

This part hurt me more than it should 😭😭😭😭

(I know I wrote more about my personal feelings than about the actual fic, but like I said before, I had written more about it - over a week ago - in this draft that didn't save properly, and my memory is generally not that great, sooo yeah. I at least know that I had some thoughts about Emily's response to the whole situation and stuff but I can't recall anything specific I'd written rn. I want to reread this chapter at some point to see if it re-sparks any of those thoughts I had last time but... we'll see lol.)

Anywayssss I can't believe there is just ONE more chapter left to this series omggggg this fic has been an experience for sure

(I'm gonna need to lie down again aren't I 🥲🙃)

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: -

Wordcount: 6.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“I didn’t say he doesn’t… I just said, he has never actually said it.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and you immediately regretted saying what you just said.

“No, stop. He has said it. Forget I said anything. It’s fine.”

You knew exactly what she was going to say.

She’d alluded to it from the start. Rolled her eyes at him. Made faces of outrageous confusion that told you, how can someone behave like that, without having to say the words aloud. Without making you hear them.

“I’m just saying…” Emily started, and showed you a facial expression that made you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.”

You laughed, like she made a joke, yet so aware that she absolutely wasn’t.

But listen, if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, because you knew, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it probably was better for you to leave him.

Not a truth you wanted to face though.

There were still too many easy excuses for you to make.

So... you made them.

But Emily’s face remained quite serious.

“Emily. You don’t mean that.” You said on the back-end of a giggle.

“Are you joking? My God, it’d be so much better if you left him. Better for you, better for, well, me. Can’t even tell you he loves you? What is he on?!”

You shushed her, and looked over your shoulder in the general direction of your bathroom and listened for a few seconds. The shower was still going. He couldn’t have heard her.

Good.

Not that Emily’s general opinion was a huge secret. But still. It was nice if the peace could be kept for the night.

“He does tell me that.” you argued, much softer. “Just...”

“Just does it when he’s about to hang up the phone? Just a quick, casual, love ya, when he’s saying goodbye?”

“Well, he–”

“Or does he only say it when he’s about to come?”

“Emily.”

“Oh, God. You’re so beyond help, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore.”

For a moment, you avoided eye-contact. Pressed your lips together and looked around the room whilst your friend tried her best to get it into your head that Joe really just wasn’t it.

“You know you’re in second place.” Emily said, suddenly much more earnestly. “You don’t deserve to be in second place.”

Which was a nice sentiment. A thing a best friend was meant to tell you. A bit like a parent calling their baby a genius because they accidentally made a bit of babbling sound like a real string of words.

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath in and giving Emily your best smile. “So is he, so I guess we’re even.”

He wasn’t.

These were two different leagues.

But suggesting that Emily was in first place with you was the quickest way to make her feel appreciated even though her advice went untaken.

It always did.

Emily was a good friend and always gave excellent advice. And you were a good friend because you always listened to what she had to say. Or, you thought you did. Would tell yourself you did.

But then you simply wouldn’t follow any of it.

You hadn’t taken her advice when she’d told you to stop fucking around in a fourteen month situationship.

“I like how this just… works, don’t you?” Joe had said one evening when you were wrapped up on his sofa together. You’d made a comment that someone had flirted with you and had asked if you were single. You hadn’t known what to tell them.

Joe had just shrugged then.

“Let’s not push for something if it doesn’t need it. Something not broken doesn’t need a fix, does it?”

And you’d disagreed then. Had hoped that he’d grow a little protective and would’ve gone, um what do you mean of course you’re not single. For a while you also hadn’t wanted to define anything, because fuck commitment, right? But it had been over a year and Emily said that you should ask him to just fucking label it already.

You hadn’t.

You also hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy wasn’t going to make you happy.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy was ultimately just there for a bit of fun, but not really much else.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you to just leave him already when you told her he had never sincerely told you that he loves you.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it’s absolutely wild that he’s not said–”  

“It’s because you just hear all the bad things, I’m sorry. I should also tell you about the good shit.”

“Oh, yea? Like what?” Emily challenged, and in the silence that followed, you heard the shower turn off.

“Like... look! Look what he got me!” you said, picking up a bag from a dining table chair.

Your friend looked at it for a moment, blank faced, and then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Got you? Like, he went out and bought that for you? Or, was that sent to him by the brand, and he just passed it on?”

You looked at the bag you were still holding, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. He still gave it to me.”

It was a nice bag.

“Not exactly the same is it.”

No, it wasn’t. But... you know. You could pretend it was.

“Still counts.”

“Okay. If you think so.”

You didn’t think so, not after what Emily had just said, but you were willing to accept it for the nice gesture, and that was all you cared about. Or, what you told yourself was all you cared about.

“I think so.” You definitively told Emily, breaking into a smile to really sell it.

Just when she was about to roll her eyes at you and maybe try her hand at talking a little more sense into you, Joe called you from the bathroom.

You left Emily on her own for about a minute before joining her again.

“Okay. Let’s go. He’s not coming.” You grabbed your coat and found your bag. The one Joe had given to you, but hadn’t spent a penny on.

“He’s– what?”

“He thought of something that still needs doing. He’s not coming.”

Emily stared at you from where she was sat, watching you hurriedly wrestle your arms into the sleeves of your coat as she slowly caught up to speed.

“So, I’m sorry, but have we just waited for him for ages for fucking nothing then?”

You ignored her tone, finding your phone, your keys, and then Emily’s coat as well.

“Let’s go. If we hurry, we might beat the rain.”

You chucked Emily her coat, and she almost didn’t move her arms in time to catch it. With the front door already open, you gestured for Emily to make her way through, calling, “Bye! We’re off!” into the flat.

Emily, under her breath, very mockingly sing-songed, “Love you!” in that same tone as she walked past you, making her point once more.

You didn’t repeat her, but instead rolled your eyes at what you decided was a joke, and then loudly said, “Don’t wait up!”

You didn’t wait for Joe to answer before you slammed the door shut.

It’s been weeks.

Months, technically, although it doesn’t feel it.

“Please be home, please be home, please be home,” you mutter to yourself as you rush your way down his street. “Please be in the fucking country, for just this fucking once…”

You’d texted and had gotten no coloured ticks from him. So then you’d called, but it just rang for ages before you were eventually sent to voicemail, and that’s something you don’t do. Especially not now. Not about this. Hell would have to freeze over before you’d leave a voicemail message. You could delete a text thread, or a voice note. But, a voicemail? Once a voicemail sends out, there is no undoing that.

Maybe you’re crazy, but what you’re doing now feels safer.

It’s after midnight, dark, the streets wet from earlier rainfall, but you feel wide awake. You’ve got Emily’s words ringing in your ears still, and you’ve not been able to shake them yet.

Her advice.

Or, well, it was more just her opinion. She had expertly dressed it up as a fact, though, which is probably why that one sentence still held you in a vice grip.  

Telling her about how you’d had a few… moments, with Joe, since you’d broken up with him, turns out, was the wrong thing to do.

You just really wanted to tell her about the wine.

The expensive bottle you’d satisfyingly dunked into his kitchen sink.

It’s been weeks by now, but you still think about that all the time. And every time that you do, you feel pure glee spark inside of you.

You thought she’d be the same.

You thought she’d absolutely love it.

But then, after you had told her all about that night, she’d just looked at you with so much disdain and disappointment, it startled you into rambling excuses, none of which sounded true to your own ears, let alone hers. She then had shook her head, and sort of muttered something to herself that you asked her to repeat.

It’s those words that haven’t left the forefront of your mind since.

You didn’t ask Emily to clarify herself. You hadn’t gotten into an argument, either. You had just… moved onto a different topic. A lighter, easier to digest thing to talk about.

It left those words to rein freely, left those words at liberty to inflate themselves until they were all you could think about, and the feeling had clawed at your chest for the rest of the day. The rest of the night.

You hadn’t been able to answer the question, what’s wrong, that you were repeatedly asked until it made you upset.

“Nothing’s wrong! Stop asking me what’s wrong! God! You asking me what’s wrong a million times a minute is what’s wrong!”

Something is wrong though.

Obviously.

You just left someone in your bed for this.

Ringing Joe’s doorbell is a quick action, fingers pressing that familiar button before you can have any doubt of what you’re doing. It takes longer than a few seconds before you hear a small beep.

“Joe? I texted you, can you reply to my text?”

A silence follows, and for a moment you think maybe the intercom doesn’t work properly, or maybe he just hadn’t heard you.

“I– I sent you a message, check your phone–”

A loud click of the door unlocking and a loud shrill buzzing sound interrupts you.

“No you don’t have to– just text me back, will you?”

No answer follows, but the loud buzzing persists. After a few more seconds of it, you know Joe’s just holding down the button until you go inside.

That wasn’t the plan. 

With a frustrated grumbling sigh, swearing under your breath, you push yourself into Joe’s building and make your way to his front door.

In the lift you decide you won’t let the doors close properly when they’ll open on Joe’s floor. You’ll tell him from half inside the lift that he just needs to check his phone.

You just want an answer.

But then the lift doors open and one foot steps out as you lean into the hallway, expecting to see Joe waiting by his front door, yet he isn’t.

You make an angry face, nose pulling up and showing your clenched teeth with a frown. You’re in a building where people are asleep so you can’t make any noise, but you absolutely would have otherwise. Joe leaves you no other choice but to get out of the lift, and begrudgingly, you make your way over to his doormat.

When you get closer, you can see how the door’s been left open.

“Hey,” you whisper-yell into the flat, “Joe?”

You get no answer, and take a few careful steps inside to find him standing in his kitchen in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He’s got his back turned to you, and is seemingly busy cleaning up mess he’s left out from dinner.

It’s the fucking middle of the night.

It’s dark in Joe’s flat, the only light in the room coming from his under cabinet LEDs, and it’s weirdly warm for the time of night, you think.

“Hey, I–” you start, voice low because it’s late, but you quickly get cut off by Joe.

“Did you close the door?”

You blink a few times and watch Joe very carefully load some things into his dishwasher, making little to no noise at all. No plates softly clashing, no rattling cutlery.

“What? No. I–”

“Will you close the door, please?” Joe asks, but it sounds like a demand. Sort of cold, a little detached.

“All I’m here to say,” you try again. “Is that I want you to check your phone...”

Joe stands up straight and finally looks at you. Whilst maintaining eye-contact he slowly closes the dishwasher until it latches, machine clicking shut, and when he then just... keeps staring at you, you throw your head back like an annoyed teenager, and reluctantly do as you’re told.

You go to close his front door.

In the kitchen you hear the tap go, and when you join Joe there again, you can see how he’s filling up a glass with water.

Joe is about to take a sip when he suddenly decides against it and lowers the glass.

“Water?” he then asks, and holds it out to you with a stretched arm.

You’re slightly confused, but you take it, and then watch Joe reach for another glass from a cabinet and fill that one for himself.

“Thanks, but…” you place the glass on his counter and hold two hands up to Joe. “I’m just here because I need an answer to a text.”

Joe, with his mouth in his own glass, sort of looks at you a moment as he gulps water down.

He looks tired.

Which, yea, that checks out.

You fucking woke him up, didn’t you?

There’s so many reasons to declare yourself clinically insane right now, but you’re holding onto the notion that this is actually all totally normal with all of your might. If you pretend to believe it, you might just be able to trick Joe into it as well.

But Joe just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to give the real reason of why you’re there.

“So, if you could just, check that. Answer it. That’d be great.” You force a polite smile and step back. “That’ll be all.” And you turn to leave again.

“You’ve been crying.” Joe stops you in your tracks.

You turn back to him.

“No. Well, yea I was, but that’s not– I’m fine, that was about something else, not this. You don’t have to– stop, I’m going to go, please... respond to my message. I’ll read it when I get in, and that’ll be that.”

“Wait.”

Joe picks up the glass of water you’ve just put down and gives it back to you. When it’s in your hands, he even gives it a little push upward to ensure that you have a sip.

“I’ll go get my phone.”

And he’s so calm and agreeable that it feels rude to do anything else but take a sip and wait for him. You watch Joe walk out of the room to go get his phone, and it’s a lot of opening and closing doors, everything done as quietly as humanly possible. Then, you suddenly notice how hot you feel in your coat. It’s really fucking warm in here.

That’s new.

That’s... weird.

When Joe comes back, he closes the door behind him again and looks at his phone as he unlocks it.

“Why did you call me?”

“Just–”

“I’ll read the text.”

In silence, you stand and watch Joe open his texts and read your message. Messages. There’s several. Then, he starts typing back, and, this is what you came here for, but now that you’re standing in Joe’s kitchen in the middle of the night, having pulled him out of bed for this, you almost want to tell him he’s being an idiot. He can just as easily answer your question in person.

His message sends, and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Joe places his down and gives you a tired stare.

“Yea, okay. Th-thanks.”

“Read it.”

It startles you.

“No, that’s…” You’re so stupid. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Read your message.”

You feel like a fucking child that’s being scolded by a parent.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self-inflicted, which makes all of it so much worse.

Every feeling sits dark and sticky and bitterly uncomfortable in your gut, clinging to all the edges, stretching longer until the shadows overtake all of the previous excuses you had for being here.

You shouldn’t have come.

You shouldn’t have gone to wake up Joe over something so insignificant and, well, dumb. It’s embarrassing, and you want to leave.

“You’re here now. I’m up. Read your message.”

You inhale deeply. Hold it there for a moment.

He’s right.

The damage has been done.

You’ve dipped a toe into this strange pond, and now you might as well canon ball yourself right into this uncomfortable mess, no matter how cold the water might be.

The only way out seems through.

You pull your phone from your pocket with a clammy hand, and fucking damn it, you’re sweating underneath all of your layers.

“I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Joe just lets his eyes drop to your phone before he looks right at you again, his very stance issuing the orders.

Read the fucking text.

You see the notification and open your phone with face ID. Your own messages to Joe catch your attention first, before you see his reply.

“Were we as good as we’re going to get?”

“What we were together”

“Was that really as good as it can get?”

“Ever?”

You didn’t have to send the same question in various different ways, but that’s what had happened.

Emily’s reaction to the stand alone get-togethers you’d participated in with Joe hadn’t been what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a level of girl power encouragement. For a loud get it girl, or a, yea babe get what you want.

Instead, you’d gotten a sigh and shake of her head, followed by a soberly mumbled, “You really do deserve each other…” that you’d asked her to repeat.

Before she’d always said that Joe didn’t deserve you. That was always the point she tried to get across. The idea she tried to sear into your brain. Joe was beneath you, and you were far above. Always.

And then suddenly, now you are no longer too good for him?

Suddenly you’re on equal footing, and you deserve each other.

What the fuck.

You look at your own messages and realise in that very second that you have no idea what kind of answer you are after from Joe. This isn’t a coin toss situation where you know what side you want that coin to land on the moment it get’s thrown into the air. Fear strikes you lightning fast. No matter what Joe is going to tell you, it’s going to be wrong.

What the fuck are you doing at Joe’s flat?

And why is it so fucking hot in here?

The only way out is through.

You read Joe’s text.

“Darling it’s late, let’s not do this over text”

A non-answer.

You look up at Joe, who is now leaning against his kitchen counter, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. His head tilts to the side a little and neither of you speak.

It’s oddly unexpected that the guy in his underwear exudes more confidence than the girl bundled up in heavy layers of clothing.

You frown and read the message again.

For a second you debate what to do next. What to say. If this is going to be the end of this interaction, or if it’s going to be just the beginning.

It’s late, though.

You inhale deeply. Slowly.

Then, resign.

“Okay.”

Because honestly, what were you really even expecting from him?

Your soft little defeated okay isn’t what Joe expected though, you can see it in the minor change on his face. The eyebrows that quirk up slightly, his jaw that loosens, the eyes that round out...

“I’ll um...” you say softly, letting your phone sink back into a pocket before pulling at your sleeves to let them cover both hands.

Joe steps forward and bends to look at the clock on the oven behind him before he says, “Well. Since you’re here. Might as well.”

He gestures an arm at his dining table. At one of his chairs. It’s hard, but you do your best to ignore the memories of the last time you were there, sat in one of these chairs. Well, technically, you hadn’t sat in one of the chairs... Joe had sat on one of the chairs and you–

“Am I going to get an explanation of what’s going on?” Joe asks as he pulls out a chair for you.

Finally, you remove your coat.

“It’s a long story.” You say, then think for a moment and add, “No it’s not, actually. Emily said–”

“Ah. Emily.” Joe sits down in a chair opposite. “How is Emily doing?”

“Shut up. She’s fine.” You exclaim, voice a little raised in defense, and you’re immediately shushed by Joe. He holds up a hand as he perks up, and you get the message, lowering your tone as you add, “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s not?”

“No. She just said something. I…” you trail off for a second.

Your head’s a scrambled mess of doubt and insecurities and it doesn’t help that all you’ve done in the past few hours is overthink every single thought that’s popped into your brain. It’s a bit of a journey to retrace your steps and go back to the start of all of this.

“We were talking, and suddenly she... she said something and I’m just… I wanted to know if you think that… if you think what I texted you is true.”

“You just… wanted to know… if I think…” Joe narrows his eyes up at the ceiling as he thinks, slowly repeating your words.

It’s condescending.

Patronising.

Joe’s making fun of you.

“All right, be fucking honest or–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the fucking morning,” two already big eyes comically enlargen, but don’t make you laugh. Wrong audience. “But, yea, you’re right. Honest. I’ll be honest.”

You take a deep breath in preparation of what he’s about to say.

Were we as good as we’re going to get?

“Imposing question, though.”

Yea, you’re aware. It’s why you hadn’t been able to sleep and had eventually decided to just get up and out of bed, leave the boy you had in there on his own, and make your way over to Joe’s.

“I don’t know.”

Wild how you feel about five inches tall whilst simultaneously feeling like you’re taking up too much space in the room.

“You don’t know.”

Typical.

“Well. No, I… was it as good, wait, what was it?” Joe looks past you and sees that he’s left his phone on the counter. “Was it as good as it could be?”

You exhale through flared nostrils, frustration forcing your eyes shut for a moment.

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get for us?”

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get... I mean, I think so? I– But–... you tell me. Were we?”

And Joe’s right. It is late. You have spent hours thinking that question over, and you couldn’t answer it when you weren’t as tired as you are now, so it’s useless to even try at this hour.

You shrug, and for a moment, it’s quiet. You don’t know how to go about leaving now. You came here for something you aren’t going to get and so, fucking now what?

“Why um... why have you been crying?”

“Oh, I...” your fingers find your sleeve to rub. “I was asked why I couldn’t sleep, and I... well, I couldn’t really explain, so...”

Joe frowns in confusion, not understanding.

“I don’t know, you try listening to someone say shit like, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you, fifty times in a row, and try not to fucking snap.”

They’d been tears of angry frustration, mostly with yourself, and they’d actually surprised you. You hadn’t expected to cry, but, you felt hurt by words your best friend said to you, so you guess that does add up, actually.

Something slowly dawns on Joe before he then leans back in his chair and nods, scrunching his nose, and he whispers, “Jasper.”

“Jasper.” you confirm, and it makes you chuckle a little before a yawn breaks it up.

Joe watches you. Lets his eyes take you in. It’s the middle of the night and you’re very clearly going through something, but he hasn’t got the answers to the questions you’re asking him, and he hates it.

Wishes he could help.

Wishes the questions you wanted answers to weren’t so impossible.

Joe watches you yawn. Watches your eyes blink slowly as you stare into space for a moment. It’s so quiet, he can hear his clock tick on the other side of the room. Then suddenly, you smile.

“I told Emily about the wine... about how I was a complete bitch and poured that bottle right down your drain.”

And Joe can’t help but feel more amused at your smile than feel annoyed about his expensive wine being wasted. He won’t let his face show it though.

“Bet she enjoyed that.”

“Yea I thought she would, but... she just... she said that we deserve each other. Whatever that means.”

Joe watches your fingers rub along your sleeves. Knows what that means.

“That’s not true.” he suddenly says, voice low and sincere.

“Oh, right,” you huff a laugh and half-heartedly joke, “I don’t deserve you, of course.”

Joe doesn’t laugh.

“No, I mean... well, yes. Technically.” Before he continues, Joe shakes his head in an attempt get his thoughts in order. It’s late. “But not in the way you just said it. In that... you probably deserve better.”

“Probably?”

“Yea. And so do I. Probably.”

Hmm.

You silently mill that over for a second. Aren’t sure what to make of it. If there’s even anything to agree or disagree with there.

“But, who’s to say. All we know is that we weren’t the best before.”

Joe stresses that last word and then lets the words float in the air for you to draw your own conclusions from. It’s certainly true that you weren’t the best together - hence the break up that eventually happened. But Joe’s expertly sharing the blame, which is not a fun truth to face.

The before saves it, a little.

The before makes it sounds like Joe’s talking about two people who no longer exist. Like, those people are gone. That door is closed. And look at you now. You’re a whole new set of two different people. It’s a different world, and you’ve changed. Grown. Learnt.

Who knows what you’d be like now.

Joe can’t predict the future.

And neither can you.

“Hmm.” you hum, eyes trained on the surface of the table, body flushed with conflicting feelings you don’t know how to put into words. Instead of stumbling through words until you find ones that make sense, you remain silent and pull at your sleeves so there’s more fabric for your fingers to run across.

“Hey,” Joe leans forward a little and catches your attention. “Are you okay? Do I need to be worried about you?”

You smile and let it take over your whole face as you shake your head no before you bring your hand up to cover another yawn.

“No. But I should go. This was never meant to be– she just… I don’t know, Emily got into my head and I didn’t know how to get her out.”

Joe contemplates in silence. Wonders if he’s okay with the idea of you walking out and going home right now, in this state. It’s almost three o’clock.

“I don’t make the best decisions after midnight. Sorry.”

You push your chair back and get up on your feet, the plan being to give Joe a quick polite hug goodbye before you make your way back to his front door.

You’re tired, but you know the second you step outside into the cold air that will make your lungs feel sore, you’ll wake up enough to make your way home without any problems.

But then Joe decides you can’t just go.

You can’t just leave.

He’s stuck.

You’re stuck.

You’re stuck in it, together, in this muddy sludge of whatever the two of you have become now. One of you is going to have to step out of their shoes and escape, and Joe thinks it should be you, because you’ve escaped this quicksand of a relationship before. You know how to get out.

It’s weird that you willingly came back.

Keep coming back.

And it’s awful that Joe just keeps inviting you in. Welcomes you with open arms every single time.

But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.

He decides he’s not just going to let you leave, so when he stands up and you go in for a hug, he takes hold of you by your upper arms and starts moving you towards his sofa.

Says, “Come sit for a second.”

And no resistance comes from you. Joe thinks it must be because you’re tired. You’ve cried and you’ve worried and you’ve let all of it eat away at you until you decided to reach out to him, and now, he wants you to stay. He’s not a fan of how, from a certain angle, it looks like he’s taking advantage of the situation, but... you’re both adults.

He’s not doing anything illegal.

Well.

There’s a girl in his bed.

It’s why the flat is warm and why all the doors are closed. Joe shouldn’t have let you inside. Shouldn’t have made you come in and shouldn’t have made you close the door behind you. Shouldn’t have given you a glass of water and shouldn’t have sat you down.

He doesn’t want you to leave now.

There’s a girl in his bed.

And you’ve got a Jasper in yours.

Joe’s closeness to you will come at a price, he’s aware. But it’s one he’s willing to pay. One he’s got the cash for, no problem. Name the sum and he’ll double it.

He’s got you by the arms and is walking you over to his sofa. You are stopped just before you’re about to step onto the area rug.

“Shoes off,” he says, like he gives a shit. You know he doesn’t, but listen to him anyway, and know that taking your shoes off means you’re not going anywhere. At least not for a while.

You get turned around and get sat down, and immediately, you feel far too comfortable. The seat’s too soft. The cushion’s too fluffy. Memories of the hours spent snuggled up on this sofa shoot into the forefront of your mind and you want to warn Joe that it’s not going to take much for you to fall asleep.

But before you can, he pulls a throw blanket from the other side and hands it to you, and you realise that getting comfy and cosy is actually the goal here.

There’s a guy in your bed, who you’ve just… left. Didn’t tell him anything. Just got out, got dressed and left.

You take the blanket from Joe.

It’s probably a good idea to at least let him know something. Send him a text. Let him know you’re okay. But that little voice of reason in your head gets drowned out when Joe sits down next to you and helps sort out the blanket so it covers you both.

“Sit for a second?” you ask through a soft half-suppressed laugh as Joe settles in beside you, your thighs touch underneath the throw. “Am I staying the night?”

“I don’t know, I don’t control what you do. I just want to sit for a second.”

Joe stretches an arm behind you that you think he’s going to rest on top of the sofa, but it moves your head forward a little as it grabs hold of your bicep to pull you in a bit more.

“Joe...” you warn, but it sounds lighthearted and sleepy.

“What?” Joe acts all innocent, but you can hear his amusement when he adds, “Just for a second.”

Joe is still shuffling in his spot, using his other hand to sort the cushion behind him, then pulling the blanket and tucking it under his leg, followed by him using his chin to fix the bit of flipped cotton of his T-shirt sleeve – it’s a lot of faffing for someone who wants to sit for just a second.

He’s nearly done, a centering sigh half way out of him when, suddenly, you feel how he pipes up a little and see how he looks across the room. His phone’s still on the counter, and for a second, Joe debates getting up to go and get it.

You determine on his behalf that he doesn’t need his phone by draping your arm across his stomach and snuggling up.

It’s warm in Joe’s flat.

And this little nest is perfect.

“Fine.” you mutter softly. “Jus’ for a second.”

Joe pauses for a moment as he looks down at how you let your nose brush his arm, your eyes already closed, and he grins as he sinks back down into his sofa.

You don’t make the best decisions after midnight.

Neither does Joe.

Maybe you do deserve each other. Maybe you don’t.

But you deserve this, you think. And you mean that in the best way possible. You deserve to be comfortable, and cosy, and toasty warm in a dimly lit room with a man who smells really nice.

You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.

You fall asleep in the soft glow of the under cabinet LEDs with the knowledge that the next morning is bound to be awkward. But this is still infinitely nicer than trying to fall asleep with Emily’s words on your mind. It’s difficult to think about impossible-to-answer questions when you’re wrapped up in strong warm arms that want you there, so you allow yourself to sink and to drift until dreams fully take you.  

A loud bang of a door slamming shut wakes the both of you with a violent jolt.

Two pairs of tired bleary eyes look around the room, and there’s a fleeting moment of confusion. Your mind scrambles to piece together where you are and what just happened, but all your mind can focus on is how dry and heavy your eyes feel as you blink to adjust to your surroundings.

“Oh, fuck,” Joe croaks, groaning as he goes to sit up. He looks over his shoulder, then rubs a heavy hand across his face before he goes, “Yea…”

You feel disoriented and frazzled, and move to sit up just enough to look over the back of the sofa with squinty eyes to see what Joe is even looking at.

All you see is an open door to the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

“What was that?” you ask, thinking maybe something dropped or knocked over somehow. When Joe gets up and walks over to his bedroom to check, you think that’s it. Something fell because gravity finally got a hold of whatever Joe had been precariously balancing on a bookshelf.

But then you hear Joe audibly sigh and dejectedly go, “Yea, she won’t be coming back.”

That takes minute to land.

It’s too early for your brain to comprehend what just happened, but slowly, puzzle pieces click together.

Oh.

Oh, that’s fucking detestable, isn’t it?

When Joe walks back out, he’s wearing joggers and is holding a ball of socks, and you hope there’s a different explanation than the correct one you just concocted. He looks at you for a moment, and you can tell by the look on his face that he feels awful.

Right.

Emily can fuck off.

You don’t deserve each other.

You deserve better than this.

Okay, so, yea, admittedly, you aren’t really one to talk, seeing the personal choices you have made over the past eight hours. But the choices Joe has made in that same span of time are just as bad, if not worse.

You decide to give into the feeling of wanting to lay back down rather than to face whatever this morning has on offer for you. You disappear from Joe’s sight, and cover all of your face with your hands that press and pull at your skin.

This is such a mess.

“Emily can fuck off.” You mutter into your own palms, hoping Joe can translate that and connect the dots of your disdain for him in this very moment.

You should leave.

Should check your phone for any messages or missed calls, and you should leave.

Never come back.

Learn your fucking lesson already and never set foot into this flat ever again.

But then Joe leans over the back of the sofa, and with knitted eyebrows that show off every single line on his forehead, he softly asks, “Do you want a coffee?”

You drop your hands.

Look up at him. The kind face. His short hair sleep messy. Jaw line. His mouth.

You should leave.

“Um…”

Oh... oh no.

“Yea…”

Fuck.

So close.

“Yea?”

You almost had it.

“Yea. I could use a coffee.”

Almost.

---

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[allisluv]

Heya! I was wondering if you could do some Emily prentiss x readers please!!

I had an idea about reader finally leaving her abusive partner and Emily offering to take her on a date to show how she really suppose to be treated. With lots of cute and flirty moments and lots of reader being cute and confused with the affection. Could end in a sweet kiss moment or something!

But anything to do with Emily prentiss being loving and perfect 😂

Thank you x

i kissed a girl.

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

content warnings: allusions to an abusive relationship, first dates, best friend!derek, emily being sweet and reader being confused by the affection. if there's anything else please let me know!

word count: 1.6k

Derek looks up as you collapse into a chair next to him in the round room. He arches a brow and shares a pointed look with Emily before slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling his chair closer to you. "What's the face for, angel?"

You glare at him, but there's no mirth behind it, not really. "Daniel and I broke up." Derek's lips tip downward into a frown as he stares at you, waiting for an explanation. You huff out a sigh and elaborate. "He cheated on me."

Derek watches you carefully. "That bastard," he murmurs under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear. "I'll kill him. Just say the word and I'll have him six foot under in a split second. They'll never find the body."

You crack a smile at your best friend. "Thanks, but that's not necessary."

"Are you okay?" Emily asks from across the table. Her eyes are full of concern and sympathy as she analyses your every movement, the profiler in her coming out to play.

"I'm just glad to be rid of the asshole. I feel like I can finally breathe again," You admit.

Derek's frown deepens. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asks quietly. "Did he do something? Did he hurt you?"

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "Look, I'm not talking about this, alright?" Derek's face drops and he lets go of you, suddenly hyperaware of how you may react to his touch. "I just want to forget it happened. I just want to move on."

Derek shares a look with Emily from across the table. She shakes her head, silently telling him to drop it and give you the space you so clearly crave at the moment. Hotch and the rest of the team file back into the round room and Derek watches as you pick up your pen, flicking it anxiously in between your fingertips.

Penelope starts to explain the details of the case and the team start to bounce ideas off of each other as Emily starts to form an idea in her head. Sure, it may be reckless, and there's a chance you may reject her proposition, but what's the harm in trying?

As you all disperse to get your go-bags, Emily runs in her high heels to catch up with you. She calls your name and is grateful when you stop at the bottom of the staircase for her. "Can I ask you something?"

You're wary, but you nod your head, anyway. "Go for it."

Emily juts her chin out defiantly to give herself an air of confidence, because despite her usual cool demeanour, her nerves are starting to get the better of her. "Do you want to go on a date with me when we get back from this case?" Your eyebrows shoot up your face and she rushes to explain. "I mean, you said you wanted to move on, but if I'm overstepping or I've jumped to the wrong conclusion and you think this is too soon, just let me know and I'll--"

"You wanna go on a date with me?" You ask incredulously, like the idea of someone wanting you for something other than your body is a foreign concept to you. "What's in it for you?" You realise your words have came out harsher than you intended and you wince. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

Emily brushes you off with a laugh. "You don't have to apologise, love." Your heart flutters in your chest at the petname. "But to answer your question, there's nothing in it for me apart from taking a pretty girl out for a night that shows her how she deserves to be treated."

You frown, still not catching her drift. "Is this a pity thing? Like, are you just asking me out because you feel bad for what I've been through or something?"

A crease appears between Emily's brows as she shakes her head. "No, it's nothing like that at all. I've liked you for a while but I knew you were in a relationship and I didn't want to make things awkward. It's definitely not a pity thing, I can tell you that much for free." You mull her words over in your head for a minute or two. Emily waits patiently for your answer, her palms damp with sweat. "You really wanna go on a date with me?" She nods. "Okay. Give me a day and a time and I'll be there."

Emily's face practically lights up like a god-damn Christmas tree. "You will?"

Her excitement is infectious and you can't help but grin back at her. "Yeah. I don't see why not. You never know, a date might lead to two might lead to three or who knows what else."

Emily smiles brighty and looks over her shoulder as Hotch calls out for the two of you, tapping his watch impatiently. She crosses to her desk at the bullpen and pulls her go-bag from underneath the desk. "Great. It's a date."

————————————————

You anxiously smooth out the creases in your black dress as you hear a knock on your apartment door. Quickly checking your reflection over in the mirror, you fix your hair and peek through the peephole to double-check who it is.

A bouquet of white roses are clutched in Emily's hand and she's dressed in a red dress and a matching pair of stilettos. Her face lights up when you open the door and her eyes rove over your form as you begin to overthink it. "Is it too much?"

Emily shakes her head fondly. "No, darling, absolutely not. You look gorgeous." The heat rushes to your cheeks at the compliment and she tries not to laugh at how cute you look. She thrusts the bouquet of roses into your open hands. "Here. These are for you."

You take the bouquet and set them on the coffee table in the hall. "Thank you. They're lovely." She offers you her hand and you take it, locking your door behind you as you leave your apartment block and slip into the passenger seat of her car. "So, where are we going?"

Emily turns the keys in the ignition and merges onto the road. "Well, love, I told you it's a surprise. But I promise you'll like it." She smiles. "There's a stack of CD's in the glove department. Feel free to put on whatever you like."

You tentatively sift through the music in the glove box and push a CD into the car's player. "This is my favourite."

"Mine too," Emily answers as the music drifts through the vehicle. She keeps the conversation flowing as she drives, and you slowly relax into your seat. For the first time in months, you feel at ease.

As your favourite Mexican restaurant comes into view, you can't help the smile from pulling at the corners of your lips. "I love this place. How did you know that?"

Emily chuckles to herself. "I pay attention, love. You said it one day when we were on a case together."

Your heart soars in your chest.

She kills the engine, tells you to stay put, and opens your door for you before steering you towards the restaurant with a hand on your lower back. You practically melt into her touch as she gives the hostess your name and the woman finds your booking.

Emily sits opposite you in the booth and shrugs off her leather jacket as the two of you skim through the menus. "Do you drink red or white? Or shall we get both?"

You hesitate. You're not used to being given options. "I'm easy. Whatever you like."

Emily arches a sharp eyebrow. "That's not what I asked, lovely. I asked what you like. Besides, I can't drink. I'm designated driver, remember?"

A small smile graces your features. "I like red. Thank you,"

The hostess comes back to your booth and takes your order.

As time passes, you loosen up and start talking more to Emily. You both chat about anything and everything; from your favourite things, to cases at work, to your childhoods to your most embarrassing moments in life.

When the bottle of wine is drunk and your plates are cleared, Emily practically wrestles your credit card out of your hand in order to pay the bill. You laugh at her confidence when she tells you that you can buy next time-- you like the idea of another date with her. The conversation continues on the car journey home and Emily insists on walking you to your apartment door.

"I had a nice night," You admit. "Thank you for dinner. And the flowers. And the company. And--"

Emily giggles. "I get it, lovely. I had a nice time, too." Her eyes drift down to your lips. "Can I ask you something? But please don't feel obliged to say yes." You nod, having an idea where this is going. "Can I kiss you?"

You cock your head to one side with a smile. "I'd like that."

Emily's hesitant as she smooths your hair over your shoulder. Her touch is gentle and soft and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" She says.

As tentatively as possible, she slots her lips over your own. You melt into her touch and she swallows your hum of content. Her tongue runs over your bottom lip and you nod, winding your arms around her neck as she slips her tongue into your mouth.

The kiss can't last for longer than twenty seconds, but you're panting and out of breath by the time she pulls away. Your cheeks are flushed and you're suddenly hyper-aware of how close you two are. "Can we do that again?"

Emily arches a brow. "What, the date or the kiss?"

"Both."