#( hope this is okay! they could be at a gala of sorts? )

[fadinglights]

@suchaehwas

yuna  knows  that  she  should  be  keeping  her  distance  regarding  the  man  that  keeps  appearing  in  her  vision.  in  her  world,  it  is  a  bad  enough  omen  for  her  to  begin  to  run  for  her  life.  but  for  reasons  unknown,  she  cannot  help  but  be  drawn  to  the  stranger.  for  all  she  knows,  she  could  be  making  a  terrible  mistake.  he  could  be  sent  to  gather  information  on  her,  hired  by  someone  who  has  a  legitimate  reason  to  crave  revenge  on  the  woman  that’s  wronged  too  many  people  in  her  lifetime  —  and  it’s  only  among  the  less  lethal  possibilities.  “oh  my  god.”  she  gasps  when  she  enters  the  balcony  that  she  assumes  to  be  empty,  only  to  find  the  same  stranger  again.  the  wine  spilled  almost  taints  her  silky  dress,  but  fortunately  it  stays  unscathed.  “sorry  —  i  didn’t  expect  to  find  someone  here.”  

[gtgbabie0]

Hi! :) could you write fluff spencer reid x pregnant bau reader on a gala of sorts at their work where he is all careful and protective with her

-Spencer Reid x reader

Of course lovely, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! 💕

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“Give me your hands sweetheart,” Spencer says, pulling you away from everyone else as he takes out a small bottle of hand sanitiser from his pocket. You do as he says without saying a word, you learnt the hard way not to question him any more.

You watch with a soft smile as he squeezes the bottle, the liquid is cold against your palms and you’re quick to rub it in. “Have you eaten yet?“ he asks, bringing a protective hand to settle against your lower back nudging you closer to him.

“Mhm, don’t worry David did let me go hungry” you smile reaching to tuck his hair behind his ear, he smiles gently as he leans into your touch.

He knows he has a habit of over-worrying, especially when it comes to you and you can’t blame him considering how much he’s lost in the past, perhaps that’s why you felt riddled with guilt after you had snapped at him this morning, immediately diving into teary eyed apologies.

“Good, do you need to sit down?” He smiles, he can’t help but ask. His palm soothes your back as he watches you roll your shoulders.

Your hand rests against your bump when you feel your baby kick, interrupting your train of thought, your eyes light up and you don’t waste a moment, bringing Spencer’s hand to your belly.

“We’re fine” you smile, watching his face practically beam with amazement.

“I know- I know” Spencer whispers, as if he's trying to calm any wondering thoughts he has, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

In all honesty, Spencer wasn’t sure he was ready for a child when you had first told him, and he still doubts himself from time to time but there’s something warm that blooms within his chest when you ask him to get whatever odd foods you’re craving or when you gently tug his hand to feel the baby kick.

“You’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” He whispers, and you can tell by the way he approaches the question that he’s being careful not to swamp you with his worry.

You immediately lean into him, pressing a kiss against his cheek, “Of course I will” you promise, taking his hands in yours.

You watch as his eyes scan across the room, and you know for a fact that he’s checking for anything that might end up being dangerous for you. He’s already baby-proofed the entire house… just for you.

“You know what? Maybe some fresh air” you suggest, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea the room was quite stuffy after all.

This seems to get his attention, his eyes finding yours once again. “Okay, yeah we can do that” Spencer smiles, his hand settles against the small of your back as he guides you through the room.

The room was dimly lit and packed with people from different precincts, and the mixture of light chatter, music and trying to watch over you was starting to become far too overwhelming for him. He was ready to go home a long time ago.

Your hand grasps his arm as you both walk side by side, your path abruptly stopped by someone who clearly wasn’t looking where they were going as they walk straight into you.

Spencer has never been quick to anger as he was in that moment, immediately pulling you behind him as he confronts the younger man with a scowl. “Watch where you’re going” he snaps as he looks back at you, making sure you're okay before looking back at the very obviously inebriated man.

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t see her, I-" he tries to explain himself, panicked as he makes eye contact with you. Spencer doesn’t let him finish his sentence.

“Wasn’t looking where you were going?” He scoffs, and you take the initiative to reach for his hand, trying to stop this from getting out of hand.

You let out a sigh of relief as you notice Derek walking towards you with a soft smile, “I got this” he mouths at you, before nodding to Spencer.

“Come on Spence” you whisper, tugging on his hand as he notices Derek, he gets the memo and he turns around to you. His thumb soothes over your knuckles and his heart seems to find a calmer pace, he takes a deep breath once he realises you're okay.

His eyes soften as you pull him towards the door, the cool air against your skin alleviates your stress and you're finally able to breathe. “Are you okay, you’re not hurt?” He asks, sitting down next to you on the bench, he takes his blazer and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Yeah I’m alright, are you? looked like you were about to start throwing punches back there” You rest your head against his shoulder, enjoying his body warmth that blankets over you as he wraps an arm around you and it only drives you to shuffle closer to him.

“I should’ve brought my cane” he chuckles, his cheek resting against the top of your head, and you both break out in laughter at the idea of him weaponising his cane.

The pair of you stay like that for a moment, enjoying the peacefulness of the cool evening. “I think I’m ready for bed” you tell him and he’s already calling a taxi.

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[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[chocochipsushi]

𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊’𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!

🌸Word count: 5.3K

🌸AU: Toji as your father’s best friend, consoling you with his cock after a fight with your dad

🌸CW: cockwarming, toji calling reader all sorts of pretty names, fucking while reader's dad is around, unprotected sex, fluff

🌸A/N: Hello... I am here to clarify some things. I found out recently that I got a pretty established and amazing fanartist on Twitter into a situation where they received backlash for recreating one of my Uncle Toji scenes. I felt so bad because antis were giving the artist shit for something I wrote. So I am here to let all of you know that:

1) reader's age was never specifically spelled out bc I wanted everyone to be able to relate to the reader's age and not be restrained by a number in the story. If I knew that there was a rule where we had to indicate ages of every character in stories, I would have done so... Anyway, if I were to be asked what the OC's age was, I would say she is within the age range of 26-28yo.

2) It will be clear in the last chapter as I tried to give a short back story (before I even saw those mean tweets) but I will let you all know now - Toji was out of the reader's life from age 9 to 24, reader's dad had her at 21, and Toji is a few years younger than the dad. So the math is that the age gap between Toji and the reader is ~18 years.

3) Reader hardly calls Toji by his name because she feels awkward doing that since she's always known him as Uncle Toji. but if you notice, she has been getting braver through the chapters. And she calls him 'Uncle Toji' during sex most of the time coz they like to roleplay??

Anyway, I am only explaining bc I really do not wish to hurt anyone, and I hope the fanartist know that the hate should be directed at me, not at them.

Next chapter will be the last. thank you all for supporting my Uncle Toji series.

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞 || Epilogue 🔞 >>

I am surprised when Toji’s hand on the small of my back gently guides me to the side, away from guests trying to lure us into their conversations. I look up at him in confusion and worry, only to be met with a concerned look on his face. 

He dips his head so that I can hear him when he murmurs, “You alright, baby? Wanna go home?”

Oh. 

I’d had a fight with my dad before coming to the gala dinner. Toji was caught in the crossfire when he came to pick me up. I was initially supposed to meet him at the dinner with my parents, where I would be handed over to Toji since each guest could only bring a Plus One. However, once my dad and I started raising our voices at each other, my mother called Toji right away and got him to come over to take me.

I was glad for it, and I’m sure my parents were, too. I haven’t been in the best of moods since then and Toji knows me way too well to have me engage in any conversation. I am still a good guest in the way I politely respond to questions asked, yet at the same time cutting the conversation short. But Toji understands that I am being civil only for the sake of it. 

I give Toji a small smile and shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”

He observes me for a few seconds. Finally, he rubs his thumb on my back and nods. “Okay. But I’ll bring you home early. Let me just talk to Dr. Hung.”

I have no objection to that, so Toji slides his engulfing hand down to take hold of mine and starts walking towards Dr. Hung. I try to listen politely and take mental notes of their conversation, since I am also here to make connections that might benefit my father’s company when I eventually take over. Toji, being my father’s best friend and longest business partner, knows of this and even tries to bring up our company’s name. 

By the time they were done talking business, I had Dr. Hung’s name card and a promise to have a business lunch, all thanks to Toji. And finally, when it is just us again, Toji rests a comforting hand on my back and leans down so that his lips are by my ear. 

“Let’s bring you home now, shall we?”

I look up and nod my head, to which he returns a nod at. Before we leave, however, Toji looks around to locate my parents, who are engaged in a conversation with a few other notable people in the industry. Not wanting to interrupt them, Toji guides me straight out of the ballroom and walks me to his car where his driver is already waiting. 

“Careful,” he murmurs with his big palm resting on top of my head as I get into the car. 

He gets his driver to bring me back and only when he has walked me back to my room, I face him and hold onto his calloused hand with both of mine. 

“Stay for a bit, Toji?” 

He stares at me for a long moment, not saying anything. I know that he is debating whether he should, since my parents might come home and see him here. But I give him a small pout that I know he can never resist, and he eventually squeezes my fingers — his non-verbal way of saying yes. 

When I let go of his hand, Toji undoes the knot on his tie, ready to get comfortable. By the time I am out of the shower, I find Toji already laying on my bed, tie off and blazer-less. He has the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his arm resting behind his head widening the plackets of his top and allowing me to see more skin. He is on his phone, probably going through some soccer news. 

Cuddling up to him seems so inviting that I rush through my nightly routine just to jump into bed with him. Toji fully expects it, having experienced this too many times for him not to be ready for it. He spreads his arm out just in time for me to burrow into his side. 

“Ugh, what a terrible day,” I groan into his armpit. 

Toji pats my crown and rests his palm on the swell of my hips. “Your dad only means well, you know that, baby.”

I lift myself up on my elbow, my hand on his chest to keep me steady, as I glare at him. Toji returns a levelled gaze. “He thinks that I’m not focused and that I am not trying hard enough to learn about taking over the company!”

Toji locks his phone and puts it aside just so he can give me more attention. But when I hear his response, I suddenly wish he didn’t give me any at all, or that I even asked him to stay. 

“Well, do you think you really have been giving your all in the handover?” I simply gape at him, in disbelief that he would say something like that. Toji taps my hip. “Look at it this way, Princess, from your father’s point of view. You complain when you have business meetings, when they are actually good for your business. You hate the small talk and show an attitude, which I can’t say gives off a good impression. You hang back and passively stand there and look pretty at the networking events your father brings you to, that are really for you to broaden your connections.” 

Toji could probably see the look of incredulity and betrayal on my face, because he sighs and strokes my chin with his free hand. Being the petty me that I am, I turn my head away with a pout. 

“You know that I am always fair and logical, Princess. I’m not just taking your dad’s side because he is my best friend,” Toji murmurs.

I stay quiet, trying to rationalise his explanation. But the longer I do, the more heated I get. So, instead of answering him, I get up, tear the sheets off my bed to get under it, and reach out to turn the lights off, plunging us into darkness. I lie on my side, facing away from Toji even though he can’t see me in the darkness anyway. He doesn’t move or say anything for a while but a few seconds later, I hear movement and in the next few seconds, the nightlight next to my bed turns on. I feel Toji getting under the blanket behind me where he rests his heavy hand on my hip. He comes closer until his lips are hovering over my ear. 

“Although…” he murmurs huskily, quietly. “Of course I will be there to help you. How can Uncle Toji leave his baby girl to be eaten by the wolves?” While my heart flutters at his words, I make sure not to react. Toji rubs his rough palm up and down the side of thigh now. “Together, we’ll dominate the playing field. I’ll guide and bring success to you.”

I know that he always keeps his promises and he never promises anything he can’t do. But I still won’t respond, so Toji nudges my earlobe with his lips. I can feel the scruff on his chin that is already growing. 

“It’s all for your own good, Princess. Your dad just doesn’t want you to fail. Neither do I.”

I turn my head slightly and grumble, “I thought you said you’d help me succeed.”

The tip of Toji’s nose now brushes my cheek. He rubs my side gently, at the same time causing my night dress to ride up. “Oh, that’s not negotiable, baby. Of course I will. But you’ve got to try and make it out on your own too.” 

“But I am trying,” I whine, now twisting my body a little more so that I am facing him. 

He is staring down at me with the softest gaze — one that he only reserves for me. “Of course you are,” Toji almost coos. This only makes me pout instinctively. He leans down to press his scarred lips to mine. “But try harder.”

Immediately, I pull away with a loud whine and slap his broad shoulder. Toji’s chuckle is low and husky, so warm and familiar that I am already melting before he kisses me again. This time, he nips on my bottom lip, his palm on my hip now moving in sensual strokes. Little moans and mewls escape me as some sort of resistance, not wanting to be played into his hands like that. But we both know that I am enjoying this, especially when I clench my fist on the material of his shirt, pulling him closer. Toji hooks his fingers under the hem of my night dress and drags them up along my thigh, pulling my dress up. 

He is toying with the band of my panties when he breaks the kiss and murmurs against my lips, “Still mad at Uncle Toji?” My teeth pull on my bottom lip as I nod my head. The corners of Toji’s lips turn down. “Can’t have that now, can we?” he hums before burying his face into my nape. He trails the faintest of kisses along my neck, his fingers now tugging and flicking at the thin elastic of my underwear. “You’re not tired, are you, baby? I don’t think you’ll be getting any sleep yet.”

And with that, Toji lifts himself up on his elbow as he pulls my g-string down as far as he can. He kisses me on the shoulder just as he hovers his hand over my crotch, the tip of his finger drawing shapes on my sensitive skin, making my hair stand on ends. I hold my breath as he gets closer to my clit, dipping his finger between my thighs so that the length of his digit rubs on my pussy lips. 

I can feel his erection growing hard against my ass, especially when he starts thrusting his hips slowly in tandem with the rhythm of his finger sliding between my labia. The tip of his finger teases my entrance. Pushing just an inch of his digit into my hole, he slides out and spreads my slick along my lips. I swallow and turn my head so that I could at least see him a little. Almost at once, Toji leans in to kiss the corner of my lips. 

His lips are still on me when he mumbles, “You’re so cute when you act like you’re mad at me.”

I let out a whine and reach out to thump my fist on his shoulder. Toji merely chuckles against my lips. He gives me one last kiss and pulls away, now moving to lay on his back. I turn my head to take a look at what he’s doing and see that he is undoing his pants. Knowing that he is actually going to finish what he started, I return to face the front. 

His strong arm snakes around my waist again and this time, I can feel his member poking my ass, excited and hard. The expensive material of his pants brush against the back of my thigh, adjusting my position so that my legs are scissored. Scooching closer to me, Toji holds his cock in his hand just for him to rub it against my flaps. I bite my bottom lip in an effort to try not to stick my ass out. But it is useless because my hips start to move and grind against his cockhead, allowing him to spread his precum and my wetness along my slit. 

Toji wraps his arm across my chest and brings me inevitably closer so that his lips are pressing against my ear. As he continues to thrust his hips, letting the length of his cock slide along my pussy lips, he lets out the sexiest grunts and the lowest of moans. At this point, I just want him to put it in me already. And he knows, because I arch my back to the point I am pressing my ass against his hips. 

Reaching his hand down, Toji tactically spreads my cheeks apart and positions his cockhead at the entrance of my wet pussy. Thrusting his hips forward, he stretches out my hole, making me whine and moan in pain and pleasure. Once he has his tip in, he returns to hugging me tight against his body. Toji’s nose is at the back of my ear, his lips on my earlobe. I can hear his shaky breathing as he enters me deeper. 

“Fuck…” he groans quietly. “You feel so good, baby.” 

Toji is slow as he sheathes himself inside of me, trying to savour the moment he first slides into me. Only when he is balls deep inside of me, he pauses and groans into my ear while he enjoys the pulsing, warm cocksleeve around his meat. My jaw goes slack when he finally pulls out several seconds later, only to thrust back into me again. His strokes start out slow before building up to a passionate rhythm of fucking. 

Toji growls into my ear and I just know that he isn’t going to last very long tonight. Especially when he brings his hand to wrap around my throat, his thick fingers lightly gripping the sides of my neck. My pussy is getting wetter. The sounds of Toji’s hips slamming against my ass and the squelching of my sopping pussy are almost too loud in my quiet room. It doesn’t help that Toji releases the chokehold around my neck, only to bring his hand down to my clit, his fingers already rubbing the nub in circles. 

“Ah, Daddy…” I mewl breathily, my body already trembling at his ministrations. 

Toji grunts. “God. You’re so tight and warm around me, Princess.” He lets out a long groan. “Daddy’s going to cum.”

By the sound of his irregular breathing, I just know that he is so close. Just a few more thrusts and he is going to explode inside of me. 

Which is why I have to be the one to stop him with my hand against his hips, giving him a squeeze in warning, when I hear the door creaking open. My heart is racing with fear and anxiety. Toji curses under his breath but immediately ceases his movements. He tries very hard to regulate his breathing quietly. He taps my thigh and I just know what he wants me to do. I shut my eyes and pretend to sleep. 

Someone takes a few steps into the room. Toji twists his body so that he appears to be lying on his back. I hear him groan, like how a tired person would. 

“Oh, you’re with her.” 

I really hope the thumping of my heart against my chest is not as loud as it sounds like to me. Because my father is here, speaking quietly to Toji.

“We had a little talk before she fell asleep,” Toji mumbles. I am impressed that he doesn’t sound at all out of breath.

My father lets out a loud sigh. Instinctively, my entire body clenches with anxiety, even down to my pussy walls squeezing Toji’s swollen cock. Toji chokes on a grunt and reactively moves his hand that is under the blanket to squeeze my arm lightly in warning. 

“Yeah, I might have been too harsh on her,” my father reflects. He sounds a little regretful. 

Toji clears his throat. He knows that I am listening and will very well treat him according to his reply. He pauses for a second before saying, “Good you know that. She really is trying, you know. She’s a good girl.”

As a reward for Toji sticking up for me, I pretend to shift in my sleep so that I press my ass against his hips, fully taking in his cock. Toji lets out a short hiss, which he covers up by clearing his throat. 

“She can be a brat,” he comments, making sure that I hear the edge in his tone. The corner of my lip lifts slightly. “But she is a good kid.”

“I know.” My father sighs. “I feel terrible. We never have fights.”

Toji scoffs. “Obviously. You’re a sucker for your daughter.” 

I could almost hear my father rolling his eyes. “You’re not one to talk. I’ve never seen you fuss over anyone like you do with her. She can’t even meet boys with the way you’re always hovering around her.”

Toji shifts his leg, at the same time angling his cock and driving his meat deeper inside of me. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. He is almost growling when he answers, “Boys can’t take care of her.”

“You know, I agree with you. But then who will?” 

I wish I had my eyes open to watch the non-verbal interaction between my father and Toji. Because the tension in the air intensifies and my dad almost sounds interrogative now. 

“You? You want to take care of my daughter?” 

“Just ‘cause she’s a brat and a princess, you think I can’t handle her?” Toji may sound like he is joking but I just know that he is being defensive. 

The tension breaks when my father laughs. “Oh, I know for sure you can handle her, Toji. I’m just not confident she can take care of you, ya grumpy old geezer.”

Toji’s body relaxes behind me. He scoffs and says, “Like I need anyone taking care of me.”

“Hmm. True.” A moment of silence passes, putting an end to the short distraction from their original conversation. My father sighs and asks, “Are you staying?” Without waiting for Toji to answer though, he quickly changes his question to an instruction, “Stay the night and talk to her in the morning before breakfast. She listens to you better. Then we’ll go for brunch at Fordeux.”

Toji chuckles under his breath. “Bribing me with a meal at my favourite place, huh?” My father doesn’t answer but I know he must be grinning. Toji flips to the side and pats my hip over the blanket. “Alright. I’ll make sure she’s talking to you again tomorrow.”

“Good ni—”

“But,” Toji stops him in his tracks. My father pauses. “You need to cut her some slack too. Let her do things at her pace.”

It takes a while for my father to respond but when he does, my heart lightens so much that I feel like I might float. “Fine.” I can almost hear him roll his eyes. “Can’t say shit about me when you’re as big of a sucker for her.” 

“Shut up, dickhead.”

My father’s laughter is getting further and further until I hear the door open again. The moment it closes behind him and we are back in the silence of my room, I open my eyes. I wait a couple more seconds before turning my head around to face Toji. He turns to look at me. I keep staring at him, not saying anything, probably scaring him because he opens his mouth to say something. Before he could even get a word out though, I reach my arm behind me and grab his neck, pulling him close. Toji’s fingers tighten around my hip when my lips touch his, so possessive and full of yearning that I can only respond in a sensual swirl of my hips. 

Hearing him moan into my mouth, I am motivated to give him more. Arching my back to press my ass against his groin, I rock my hips at a steady pace, sliding his cock in and out of my tight hole. Toji kisses me back sloppily, his jaw slack at the pleasure my wet pussy is giving him. 

I pull away from his lips, which only makes Toji’s eyes flutter open as he stares at me in a lovestruck daze. It makes me grin. I am usually the one with that expression. Circling my fingers around his wrist, I pull his hand away from my hip and move away from him. His brows draw together for a moment before he realises what I am about to do as I push him back and climb on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Toji licks his lips and bites down on the bottom one as he watches me steady myself with a hand on his chest and my hand wrapped around his dick. I lift myself up so that I am hovering over his thick cock. Sliding his cockhead up and down my wet lips, I glance up at him, finding him already in position with his arms behind his head, ready to watch me ride him. 

Lowering myself as I rub his mushroom head along my slit, the wet smacking of my pussy lips becomes louder and almost more elaborate. Toji’s teeth are tugging on his bottom lip and I can just tell that his restraint is almost breaking at my teasing. He is probably just two seconds away from flipping us around and completely obliterating me when I finally sink down on his dick, slowly letting his wide girth stretch me out. 

Toji’s hip spasms at the immense pleasure my sopping cunt is giving him and his face contorts into one of agony and bliss, all at the same time. Placing both hands on his chest now, I hold myself stable as I continue taking in his cock, all the way down until he is balls deep inside of me. I let out the breath I had been holding in and lift my head to find Toji with his eyes barely open. He always enjoys the first time his cock slides into my pussy. 

As I slide my palm up his smooth chest, I tease, “You alright there, Uncle Toji?” 

It takes him a few seconds but Toji finally blinks the haze away. He is already glaring at me. Taking a hand away from the back of his head, his palm meets my ass with a resounding smack. “What’s gotten into you, huh? Thought you were mad at Uncle Toji?”

As I lean forward with a grin, I lift my ass so that his cock slides out of my tight snatch. “How could I stay mad at you?” Toji flickers his eyes down to my lips, looking so mesmerised by the way my bottom lip is caught between my teeth. “You stood up for me.”

Toji’s hand cups my chin and pulls me closer. “If I don’t, who will?” 

My heart flutters at his words, sending a ripple down south that massages his meat. Toji’s warm breath hits my lips in a soft moan before taking my mouth in his. He kisses me deep and slow. Readjusting my hands to hold myself up on the bed beside him, I slowly start to move again, sliding my wet cunt up and down his hard dick. He could still kiss me until I started going faster, slapping my ass down to meet the base of his cock each time. Letting out a low, deep moan, Toji breaks the kiss and tilts his head up slightly, trying to get more air into his lungs. 

I stop for a moment, only to change my position so that I have my palms flat on my headboard, completely hovering above him now. I move my hips again, fast and powerful that I have the bed rocking slightly, my tits swinging in Toji’s face, my perked nipples just grazing his stubble and his sharp nose. The man below me lets rip a growl and grabs a handful of my breast, latching his mouth on my tit. I throw my head back at the sensation of his tongue flicking over my stiff bud. My pussy is only getting wetter, making me glide up and down his thick cock easily. 

Toji’s other hand slides down to my body, finding my ass. I mewl when he slaps my mound before giving it a squeeze, his grunts only letting me know that he enjoys my reaction. I know that Toji is enjoying this, but he always wants to finish with him on top. And I am slowly losing my strength as I start to slow down. He gives me one last slap and squeeze to my ass before unlatching from my breast. With his hands on my hips, he stops me from moving, holding me up with his hands now cupping my ass. 

“Oh, fuck, Daddy…” I whine when he starts rutting his hips, impaling me over and over with his thick meat. 

“Mm…” he groans. “Baby.” He cannot stop himself from giving my flesh another squeeze. “Princess.” At that petname, I fall forward and melt into his chest completely, letting him hold me up with pure brute strength. Toji’s grunt in my ear is low and guttural. “My pretty girl,” he moans. My cunt grips tighter around his cock. He knows what this does to me. 

Sliding a hand up to my head, he pushes my hair away from my face so that I can feel his warm murmur on my cheek when he says, “My darling little kitten.” I shut my eyes and let out a mewl. “Daddy made you so wet, pretty baby.” Toji squeezes a handful of my ass. “Gonna cum for Daddy, sweetheart?” I can only whine and nod my head dumbly. stops with his cock entirely sheathed inside of me and circles his hips, enjoying the sticky sound of our juices mixing together. He groans at my pussy pulsing around him. 

He tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on my temple and murmurs, “Daddy’s going to cum, baby doll. And I’m going to ruin your pretty little body when I do.” I can only mewl in response, my walls fluttering around his sheathed cock. My head is buzzing from my unexpected orgasm, my body already reacting involuntarily at his words. Toji nudges my temple as he moves to whisper in my ear, still gyrating his hips with his cock inside of me, “My cum all over your stomach and your tits, baby. Gonna look so pretty, all covered in Uncle Toji’s love.”

I gasp when he flips us around suddenly, his dick slipping out of me at the movement. I am lying on the bed staring up at him now. He cages me under his big, strong build, his eyes dark and lustful as he watches me. Licking his fingers, he reaches between us and gives my sopping wet  pussy a slap, causing me to jerk in surprise. A corner of his lip pulls up. He does this again, and this time I whine. 

Toji takes hold of his cock now, positioning it at the entrance of my parted pussy. He lets out a deep exhale as he slides into me again. I like being in this position where I am able to watch Toji’s expression as he fucks me. His eyebrows would be furrowed, his dark, green eyes would be piercing mine, the ends of his hair just slightly wet from the physical exertion. I smile and reach up to give him a peck on his lips. 

It is meant to be a sweet gesture, but Toji lets out a low growl. He drops his head to kiss me hard while he speeds up his pace. I move in tandem with his fucking, meeting the base of his cock with every hip thrust. I make a conscious effort to squeeze my walls, my pussy gripping so tightly onto his cock that Toji quickly pulls out like he has been burnt, just to keep stroking his meat furiously. He cums on me like he said he would, the white liquid painting my stomach with some droplets staining my night dress. 

He takes a while to recover from his heaving but when he does, he gets up slowly and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He keeps his eyes entirely on me the whole time he strips from his clothes. The moment he is done, he scoops me up carefully and walks me to the bathroom where he brings me to the shower stall with him once he takes the dress off me. 

“I’m going to do something stupid tomorrow,” Toji suddenly announces in the middle of our clean-up. 

My heart stops for a second. I look up at him shampooing his hair. “What?” When he only stares at me, not saying anything, I laugh and joke, “Gonna have another cheat day and eat all the carbs you want?”

Toji rolls his eyes. “Everyday is a cheat day when your girlfriend always leaves you with her unfinished food.”

I click my tongue and reach out to land a wet slap on his bicep. He grins at me and closes his eyes to wash out the shampoo on his hair. Finishing up my rinse, I get out of the shower before him and dry myself. I have to change into a new set of nightwear and when I am dressed, I snuggle back into bed, waiting for Toji. 

He takes a while so I try to stay up. But when I hear the hairdryer going off, I decide that I can always spend time with him in the morning before the brunch, since he is staying over. 

I am already half-asleep when Toji finally crawls into bed and cuddles me, bringing me closer to him. I wonder if I had been dreaming when he murmured in my ear, “I’m going to talk to your dad about us, baby.”

At brunch the next day, I am sat next to Toji, both of us across the table from my parents. He takes care of me the entire time like he always does, even going to the extent of cutting up my waffles for me while he talks to my father. 

“You’re spoiling her, Toji,” my dad finally comments as he watches his best friend cutting up my food for me. “She’s not a baby, you know.”

My father glances at me but I merely shrug at him and grin up at Toji. “I like being spoiled.”

“Of course you do,” my father quips. 

Toji makes one last cut of my waffle and sets the cutlery down. I thank him and start eating. As he reaches out to have a sip of his wine, he leans back in his chair comfortably to address my father. 

“Do you think it’s weird that I spoil her?”

My dad laughs as he reaches for his wine glass too. “Not weird. But definitely bad.”

But Toji is serious as he continues, “Then do you think it’s weird if I say I want to take care of her?” 

My father pauses for a moment. He looks at me looking lost and uncomfortable at where this conversation is headed, then glances at his similarly confused wife, and finally back at Toji. 

“No… You’ve always been taking care of her even when she was younger.”

“I mean as a man.” 

The man across him frowns and leans forward to put his wine down. “You mean… like…” My father is at a loss for words. 

Even I am, too. All of us are just gaping stupidly at Toji now, waiting for some sort of explanation, or even him laughing to tell us he is joking. But he only clears his throat and sits with his elbows on his arm rests, his hands resting on his torso with his fingers interlocked. 

“Like I want to commit my life to her.” 

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞 || Epilogue 🔞 >>

-

© chocochipsushi 2023 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Ask me about my sins (and I'll tell you about my love)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.8k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: the initial awkwardness of enemies to lovers who have JUST moved on to the lovers stage, there's a lil jealousy but it's smoothed over pretty easily

a/n: this is a bit of a longer one but whatever I hope y'all like it <3

The galas Bruce Wayne holds may have become a normal occurrence for Damian, but the thought of them and everything they entail still makes something uneasy stir in your gut. Damian assures you that it's fine - that it's understandable. He stares intently in the mirror, straightening his suit as he speaks soothing words.

"You haven't been in Gotham for very long," he says. "No one expects you to adjust to life here immediately… and no one will demand you do anything you're not comfortable with. Ever. If you never go to one of these galas, that's fine with me."

You stare at the pattern of the wood floor in Damian's room, your hands bunching the covers of his bed where you sit as he moves to stand in front of you. He doesn't touch you - he's not sure enough, yet. This newfound peace between the two of you is still so fragile and neither of you know exactly how to navigate it yet. It pains him, though - he often finds himself wishing he could reach out, wishing there was something he could do to bridge the gap between the two of you.

"You've adapted to life outside of the League very well," you say quietly, a sharpness coating your words. There's an accusation there somewhere, maybe born of jealousy, maybe born of fear. Damian doesn't take the bait, though - another indicator of the ways in which he's grown since coming here. Another moment that leaves a bitterness on your tongue.

"No," he responds simply. "It's just that the years I spent learning this new life, you were… still back there. You knew me in the League and you know me now. There was an in-between that you just didn't see."

You don't respond to his words, a swirling sort of panic rising in your chest at the reminder that there was so much of him that you missed, so much of his life that you were so far away for. Damian kneels in front of you, tilting his head to lock his eyes with yours, a gentle love shining in his irises that makes you wish you could run away - again. 

"Please be here tonight when I get back?" he asks softly. "We can talk more about this then." You nod at his words and he reaches out slowly, taking your hand in his and pressing a series of delicate kisses to your knuckles. There are words neither of you can say yet, bridges neither of you are ready to cross, but he hopes - every day he hopes that you know how much he loves you. And every day you pray he can see how much you love him back.

Having spent his whole life circling you and watching you circle back, it's almost second nature for Damian, now, to check for you. No one else is aware of your presence, too focused on the press and the dresses and the endless champagne that comes with these events - not that any of them could find you if they tried, Damian thinks smugly. He knows, of course. He always knows. The flicker of a shadow seen through a window, a rustle on the balcony near him, the ever-present feeling of eyes on him. 

Damian doesn't mind, he realizes. He takes no issue with your hawk-like gaze trained on him from a vantage point no one else can find. In a way, it makes him feel better. You're not here, in front of him, where he can keep you safe - but if you're around, then you must be okay. It soothes something in him - something new and foreign that pleads with him and demands he take care of you. It's an unfamiliar feeling, one that trips him up and knocks him off balance. He has a hard time placing the moment he stopped being possessive of you as his enemy and started becoming protective of you as his… well, he doesn't even really know yet.

He does mind when a girl his age bumps into him at the gala, a glass of something sparkling in her hand as she giggles and promises that it was an accident, her hand finding itself placed on his chest. And he minds even more when, amidst his attempts to escape the sudden intrusion on his train of thought he suddenly… can't find you or feel you anywhere.  He removes the girl's hands quickly, excusing himself and slipping out, away from the noise and the politeness and the showiness of it all.

"You cut your party short," you say quietly, not turning to look at where Damian's climbed onto the roof of the Manor behind you, dress shirt ruffled and jacket unbuttoned. You don't need to turn to know he's there, silent as he is. You always know.

"It's not my party. I made my appearance," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and staring at you intently. You keep your gaze trained up, staring at the night sky as you sit stiffly, back straight and shoulders back. 

"She means nothing to me," Damian says firmly when you remain silent. You tense at his words. "I don't even know who she was."

"...It's fine," you say stubbornly. Damian sighs. Silence covers the two of you, the weight of it bearing down on the uneasiness - the stubbornness and the frustration of you both. Damian shifts, finding himself unsure, once again. You had always been better at this than him - always been more sure of yourself when it came to mind games. He finds himself wishing suddenly that he had a sword in his hands - it was always easier to fight you like that.

"You're… jealous," he says slowly, like he's trying to figure out where you stand in the situation. You snap your head around to look at him and he winces internally. Wrong guess, he thinks.

"I'm not," you respond stubbornly and he thinks briefly that this isn't the tact he's used to seeing you use in verbal sparring matches. He's not sure if it soothes or stresses him that he seems to unarm you the same way you so effortlessly unarm him. 

"We were apart for years, Damian," you continue quietly, looking away from him pointedly. "And… we were never actually together. And we were so young when you left the League. And…" you trail off, eyes shifting as you seemingly search for the right words.

"And…?" he prompts patiently. You sigh, slumping over ever so slightly, cracking your perfect posture for just a moment. Damian wonders if anyone else has ever seen you like this or if he's an exception - then kicks himself mentally for focusing on something like that right now.

"You came to Gotham for a second chance - a new life. I don't expect that you sat here waiting for me… I don't expect that there was never anyone else," you finish glumly, still pointedly looking anywhere but Damian as you speak. He makes a strange sound at your words, a strangled sort of panicked noise at the idea that you're presenting to him.

He turns suddenly, facing you completely as he reaches out, hands outstretching towards you so fast and determinedly that you jerk back, years of the two of you on opposite sides of a bloody fight flashing in front of your eyes. But there's no fight in Damian tonight. There's no violence in the way he cups your cheeks tenderly in his hands, pulling himself forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

Your own surprised sound leaves your throat at the action, your hands reaching up to wrap around Damian's wrists as he kisses you. Maybe you both expect for you to pull him away, but you find your fingers wrapping around the delicate bones of his wrists and keeping him there, pressed against you.

By the time the two of you part, you're both gasping for breath and you find yourself half in Damian's lap, your chest heaving against his as his hands anchor you to him. He tips his head forward to touch his forehead to yours, leaning into you as you relax against him. A faint smile flits over his lips at the way you sag against his chest, letting the tension you've lived with for so long slip ever so slightly off your shoulders.

Eventually, he brings a hand to cup your cheek again, firmly this time, moving just enough to look at you. You're close still - close enough that you can feel his lips brush against yours as he talks and you can't help but notice the way his heart beats against his chest and into yours. 

"It was always you," he says in that voice that you know is reserved for you - that voice that's gentle and loving and full of so much emotion that it nearly wavers. "There was never anyone else - not even in my thoughts. Certainly not pressed up against me like this."

You huff at his words, your cheeks beginning to feel hot as you pull away from him just enough to let your head fall to his shoulder, your face hidden from him. He lets you, thankfully, humming in contentment and just a touch of smugness as he pulls you closer to him, your weight a welcoming blanket.

"I think…"  you begin, pulling your face away from his neck to look at him again. "I think this may have been inevitable. I think we… might have been inevitable." Damian grins at your words, his smile flashing in a way that makes your stomach swoop.

"I think you're right," he says firmly. Sounds of the gala float up towards the two of you as you sit together, leaning against each other. "I was, by the way," he continues. You cock your head to the side.

"What?"

"I was waiting for you. And I would again, if I needed to. Until the end of my days." Damian says it so simply, so matter-of-factly, and something in your brain feels fuzzy because of it.

"Well… I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long," you respond gently, a smile passing across your lips quickly. Damian's returning smile is just as small - just as shy. His voice, in his response, is soft in a way that blankets you.

"You don't need to apologize. Your mistakes are not sins to me and your missteps do not demand penance. You will never have to ask for my forgiveness because it will always be given… without question, without hesitation, without uncertainty. It's… inevitable."

You laugh at his words and Damian feels his heart soar.

"Yes," you agree. "I suppose it is."

[skz-bibi]

( 🔴 ) ... [ YOUTUBE ] STRAY KIDS: THE KITTEN INTERVIEW !

( outfit ) ...

"i'm bibi." she waved to the camera , smiling.

they all sat on the floor excitedly waiting for the kittens to come out. "are they coming?" she squealed as the small kittens entered the studio. "oh my god , they're so cute."

she picked one up , gently scratching its head. "it's so soft." she said , not sure if she'd even be focused to answer the questions.

what do you look forward to eating the most when traveling in the usa?

"Chick fil a." she said , holding the feather over the kitten's head watching it follow it. "I wish I could take that back to Korea with me sometimes."

"I wish I could take you back to Korea with me." she cooed at the cat.

what's your favorite american slang word?

"they learned about rizz a few weeks ago , it's been interesting."

if you were an action figure, which two accessories would you come with?

"my phone and chocolate."

ryan Reynolds has publicly said he's a stray kids fan , are there any other celebs you were surprised to learn were your fans?

"we recently met chris hemsworth?" chris said , telling them about their interaction at the met.

"it was sort of like playing with an older brother , imagine being picked up by the chris hemsworth." she laughed.

"oh at the vmas sabrina carpenter called me cute." she smiled. "and I tell everyone about it."

you were the first full kpop group to attend the met gala. what was the most memorable about the experience.

"I think the entire thing was memorable , growing up I would see the outfits on TV and think it was so cool , I never thought I would be able to ever attend something like that."

if you weren't an idol what job do you think you'd be good at?

"probably a track star or a actress."

what names are your members saved as in your phone? What's your group chat name?

"chris oppa" "yongbok" "lee know oppa" "han" "yenie" she pointed them out. "then bin oppa" "hyunjin" "and kim seungmo like han." she said.

what artist would be your dream collaboration?

"tyla." she smiled. "i love her so much."

what's your love language?

"hugs , I love physical touch." she hugged the kitten. "you're so cute , she nuzzled her on top of his head.

"bibi is like a koala." Felix said. "she clings to people all the time." she nodded. "it's cute."

what's your roman empire?

"What would happen to me if I just was shipped off to a private island and had to survive?" she said. "really." she nodded. "I think about it often , I don't think I'd survive because I have 0 survival instincts."

if you could put one stray kids song into a time capsule to be listened to by future generations which would you pick ?

"3rd eye." she said. "I feel like a lot of people would love that song in the future."

you've had countless comebacks, but what concepts do you want to try that you haven't done yet?

"something like muddy water, I think it would be fun to have a comeback with that old school hiphop vibe." she said.

your concert last sometimes three hours, what's the secret to maintaining stamina on stage?

"relax a bit before you go on." she said. "save all your energy for when you're on stage , cause that's when it matters."

"of course with a group like this it's hard , so I say just wing it when you're up there." they laughed. "bibi stop."

what's your workout routine?

"legs the most , I don't focus on upper body a lot , I have no interest in lifting weights , but if I'm working out with the members I'll do it just for fun."

"doesn't last long." jeongin said. "yeah because I hate it." she laughed.

what's changed the most about straykids from your rookie days to now?

"my outlook on everything , when I was a rookie I thought about everything did wrong , now I just go with the flow and hope for the best."

what's one piece of advice you'd give to your trainee self?

"it's gonna be okay."

©️SKZ-BIBI

[idyllcy]

in sickness, in health - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #10)

"You know, Damian, calling me out into the middle of Gotham U is sketchy asf." You hold your phone to your ear, raising a brow at the series of arrows on the ground. "Is this your way of getting Tim to propose to me?"

"I have no idea what nonsense you're sprouting."

"Watch." You turn around, Tim falling right into your arms, and you suddenly get the vibe that you're in some sort of Kdrama. "Caught ya."

Tim stares up at you, eyes wide as he laughs. "You caught me, pretty bird."

"See? Now, what is the nonsense you were telling me about? If you guys are planning a wedding in the middle of our university, I highly advise you to do it in the Wayne backyard or summer home instead."

You blink as Damian hangs up.

"We're flying out. They just wanted us to host a small wedding where they get to watch us exchange vows. Remember the letters you used to write to your future husband? Your mom mailed them all to me." Tim hums, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

"WHAT THE FUCK???" Your eye twitches, horror written all over your face as you wince. "How did she even find them??"

"Apparently she dug them out when you told her that you got married."

"Mm." You grimace. "Do I have to read them in front of your family?"

"No. Just the two of us. I asked them for private vows. It's the least they can do for us"

"And it's a gala?"

"The party after is at the gala. No worries, Bruce didn't tell anyone why there's a fourth gala this year."

"Are you sure?" You raise a brow.

"I promise. We can stay in my old room the entire time if you want it that bad."

"Can we play Hades?"

"You and your fifty seven hours on a game because you want to fuck the main character." Tim rolls his eyes.

"Okay?? And?? Listen, my husband is hot, but fictional characters are still fine as fuck." You huff. "Besides, my vows are to you, no? I hope you them since I didn't get to tell you at the courthouse."

"Hey, how about reading them to me after the wedding so I can pick it apart?"

"What is this? Literary analysis?"

"Yes." Tim laughs. "To show my love for you."

"Then shall I frame your vows?"

"No need. You can keep the original draft on a USB."

"Yeah?"

Tim laughs. "Yes. That way, each time you wonder if I still love you, you have proof that the choice I made was to love you until I return to the dust of the earth."

"That's absolutely insane to say to me."

"Oh, hey. There's the helicopter." Tim looks up, leading you back as it lands in the quad.

"Is this... legal?"

"Nothing a little money can't handle."

"Great day to be marrying rich, I guess?" You raise a brow. "Where are we even having vows?"

"In private." He holds out his hand for you, helping you onto the helicopter.

"Did you plan this?"

"Just the vows part." Tim hands you the headphones as you pop them on. "We'll land at home."

"And then?"

"And then, we'll read our vows as we help each other get dressed for the gala."

"My wedding dress is nowhere near appropriate for the gala after all that sand got on it."

"I have another white one that we ordered. It's more casual." Tim grins, taking your hands again. "Everything I have is for you."

"You sound so sappy it hurts."

"Love you too." Tim snickers.

You find it strange. Tim finds it strange. You wonder just what kind of a life you led in your past life that had led you to end up with him. He is flawed, but you find that it's fine or whatnot. The world could stop spinning for him, and you would still stay by his side — until the earring rusts and your ring finger is worn down by the on and off before and after bed, he would be engrained into a part of your soul, hums gentle against your skin as the rain splatters against the window. There would be a fixing, until the two of you are withered and frail with age, until you can no longer fix each other and return to dust as one.

"Ehem." You make the dramatics of dropping the rest of the paper as Tim helps you lace your back, laughing. "To my dearest, sweetest, loveliest, future husband. At the time I am first starting this page, I am twelve and have a thrashing obsession with Robin. As with all of my hyperfixations, I expect this to last no longer than two months. Even if it continues, I hope this is whatever the hell my classmates won't shut up about... the invisible string theory? I wonder if that means I'm gonna marry Robin's girlfriend or something. Oh, maybe even another hardcore fan of his—"

Tim holds back a laugh, back shaking as he finishes with the bow. "My girlfriend?"

"You weren't bi at that point in time. At least not to us." You snort, continuing. "Regardless of whoever I end up with, I'm fine if I never end up married too. I keep hearing all of this nonsense about how women are having less kids and shit and I think it's a good time to never have to deal with it. Hopefully you don't want kids either. Or, maybe you're down bad like those men in all of that fanfiction I've been reading. Regardless, if I end up marrying a man who can't respect my boundaries, I want a divorce. Fuck this, man."

You move down the paper, and Tim runs his hand through your hair.

"You're doing my hair this time?" You raise a brow. "What's next, my makeup?"

"I will be attempting to do your makeup today." Tim purses his lips. "If you'll let me?"

"Sure." You hum, moving your head to make sure he gets all of your hair. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you need to know if you want to be my one and only all my life."

Tim holds back a laugh, but you feel him shaking behind you anyway.

"I have a Robin addiction. I know he technically assaulted me or whatever on the rooftop the other day, but oh my god he's got such a feminine-shaped face that I think I am never going to reach that level of pretty. Even if I do, somehow, I don't think I could ever have a figure that nice. Do I look better now? Maybe I do. I don't know. Hopefully I'm the prettiest girl in the world to you even when I'm old and wrinkly. I got scolded by mom because of... nearly losing my camera but.. boo. I hope you're Robin. I really hope I end up marrying that guy because my friends may not be able to marry Jungkook but I at least have a chance of marrying him. Are you Robin? The one that has pants? It sounds so romantic... please take me out on midnight swings." You pause, blinking at your next words.

"I bet it's something about how you'd let me fuck you six ways from sunday." Tim reaches for a brush.

"Wow, you're like, psychic." You snort. "I also hope whenever I look at you like I'd let you hit fourteen different ways, you catch the cue. Or, maybe the idea of sex grosses me out now. I don't know. I wouldn't know. I can only keep hoping and praying that you're Robin. Oh, also, please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have— I CAN'T."

"No, keep going." Tim stops, hair still in his hand as you shake from laughter. "KEEP GOING."

"Please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have abs. Oh, also, is it possible to cut my finger on your jawline? Maybe you'll let me bite into your collarbone until I draw blood. Okay, that was oddly kinky and weird. I am sorry if future me has to read this to you. I might be insane or something. I wouldn't know." You close your eyes for the next part. "Regardless, I want a big fancy wedding that costs a billion dollars where you'll fly all of my friends in and we'll party until sunrise. That was sarcasm, by the way. I want a small wedding where it's just family and friends. Maybe a second one to host more people if you're a socialite or something. I hope my future in laws love me more than they love you. Mom's been teaching me how to cook lately, and I might have a talent for it. I hope you enjoy every single Chinese dish on the planet, because I can not live with white people food for extended periods of time. Kisses! Xoxo."

"Yeah, I think that last part is apparent." Tim finishes with your hair, reaching for accessories. "The ironic part is that you DID manage to marry that Robin."

"Yeah, I bet she'd be having a crazy ass moment." You hum. "Ehem, dear future husband. my parents are divorced now. I'm in high school at this point in time. Robin seems rather chummy with me now, but I still don't think he sees me as a potential romantic partner. I think he only recognizes me if I have my all black clothes on. Regardless, I think he's a funny guy. Also, I caught him kissing Spoiler a couple days ago so I don't think I have a chance."

"Makes me nostalgic, almost." Tim hums, looking through your jewelry. "What colors for accent?"

"Red." You hum. "For good luck for the bride and groom."

Tim laughs.

"You know, maybe you're one of the other Robins. Maybe you're the second one.. that like. died. or something. I heard there's a new vigilante running around. Red Hood? I think he's more of a crime lord, but his build... I MEAN. I MEAN IM NOT LIKE UNFAITHFUL OR ANYTHING. I JUST THINK HE'S HOT. Yeah. Anyways. I still run a twitter for Robin, but I think he's rebranded as Red Robin. His fit is kinda fire. Don't tell him I said that, though. I don't think people pay me enough for this nonsense, honestly. My current friends are alright. I don't think I find them particularly entertaining, but it's not like I'll see any of them when I move away for college. Is it wrong to dislike your friends? Probably. They drain too much energy whenever I hang out with them. How are your friends? I hope you have a great relationship with your family, or else I am royally fucked."

"Tilt." Tim hums, and you raise your ear, letting Tim pop your studs off for the rubies. "I should get you a new pair."

"Maybe." You laugh. "I have two more pages. The two of them are addressed to you."

"Both?"

"Dearest Tim Drake." You hum, straightening your back as Tim helps you put on your necklace. "I really fucking hope you're the guy I marry, cuz I will burn this letter if not."

"I'm so glad this lived to see the light of day." Tim mumbles, starting with your makeup. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, birdie." You hum. "I remember most of it."

"Good." He grins. "Because I have a letter for you too."

You beam at him, eye closed as he pats your foundation on. "I genuinely can not believe you had sex with me. I do not radiate sex appeal, have an addiction to a Japanese green tea brand, and probably do not study half as much as I should. I have a crippling addition to Red Robin, nearly kissed him at a Halloween party, and once on the rooftop of my dorm. I do not understand why you brought me to a place that I felt I did not belong in, and I wonder if you had just picked me because I seemed like an easy target."

Tim frowns at the words.

"Regardless, I think you're the one. I think it's becoming more apparent just through the assignments I've been writing. Do you love me? Do I love you? Is this called love? I don't know. I haven't loved someone in a long time. I think my best friend calls it a delusionship. A one sided, delusionship. Hopefully they'll be there at our wedding or whatever. Will you buy me an apartment building for our wedding gift? A reverse dowry of twenty billion dollars? I don't even know how much money you have, tch. I just want a nice apartment to live in. The bar is actually in hell. Yet, I find myself catching up with interviews and news about you, desperate to learn more about you and understand just what about you draws me in. You know, I really wonder if you genuinely loved me when you said good morning to me. Maybe you did. Maybe you don't anymore. Human emotions are fickle, after all."

"Lips." He hums.

You open your mouth, jutting out your lip as he helps you apply lipstick.

"Any more?"

"Human emotions are fickle, yet I find myself clawing at my heart when I think of you. Maybe I do love you. Maybe I am nothing in myself, and I need someone to love me. Maybe you showed me love. Maybe, just maybe, you are the one. Yet, I dare not promise it. So, I go back to where I began in this letter, wondering if you would receive it. No kisses this time. May you be the one to send me those instead."

"I think I'm done." Tim takes a step back, lips curled upwards.

You turn to look in the mirror, grinning. "Yeah, birdie?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "I'll read you my vows next, I promise."

"This one's my vows." You hum, folding the paper back up and cutting open an envelope. "Ready?"

"You wanna sit on the couch before the car gets here?"

"Not gonna say no to that." You stand up, Tim leading you as you get used to walking in the dress. "Wow, I keep forgetting how annoying it is to walk in these dresses."

"You're the star of the show tonight." Tim hums. "Depending on whether or not you want to give the paparazzi a show, I can carry you for the whole night too."

"I'll be fine in the heels, I promise." You sit down as Tim lets go of your hand. "Ready for my vows?"

"Of course."

"To beloved birdie, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne." You hum, smoothing out the paper. "We did not get to have proper wedding vows at the courthouse, so I am writing mine down knowing that you will definitely host something at the complaint of your family. I vow to love you until the sun rises from the west and the moon is eradicated — until the moon becomes the sun and the sun becomes the moon, I vow to cherish you even unto death. I vow that when you are sick and dying, when you are struck with illnesses I have never heard of, I will be by your side. I vow that even if the paparazzi decide to tear their claws into my skin to ruin my life, I will stay. I vow that when you are struck by pollen and in need of release, I will be there for you. Until the world collapses and you are no longer red but old, and even when one of us leave, I promise I will be by your side and follow you until there is nothing left in this world but us. I vow that even on the days where we can not stand the presence of each other, we will find each other again. In this universe, the next, and in every universe out there, I vow that I will find you. I vow that even in the worlds that we are not together, I am nearby. I vow that in sickness and health, in richer or poorer, for better or worse, to love and cherish you even unto death. Love you lots, your pretty bird."

Tim holds a napkin to the corner of his eye, blinking to get the tears out of his eyes and onto the napkin, careful to not ruin his makeup.

"Birdie?"

"I can't read my vows without crying right now. Give me a second."

"I'll touch up your makeup if you do." You laugh. "I vow to be by your side through every gala we attend, your makeup forever next to mine, my heart forever yours to hold."

"You're awful." Tim sniffs, laughing as he manages to calm down, unfolding his own letter to you. "To the prettiest bird in every universe. To my beloved wife, I, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne vow to protect you until crime is no longer in existence, to hold you until we both return to the dust of the earth, to love you even after death. I vow to hold only you when I am in need of help, and to seek you out first amongst a crowd of people I have known all my life. I vow that my love for you will not fade, and that I will be infatuated with you for all the days of my life and death, and that on both good and bad days, I will be the person by your side. I vow that even when we are old and wrinkly, I will bring you items that remind me of you, flowers that bring a smile to your face, my whole self for you alone. When you ask of something, I vow to do my best to grant it, and when the end of the world comes, I will shield your body with my own, and in every other universe that I accidentally end up in during missions, to every other version of myself that is not me, I will stand as proof of love to them. May we be tangled in each others' lives throughout all our days."

"I don't know, birdie." A smirk makes its way onto your face. "I'm starting to think I was a lot more dedicated than you were."

"Psh." He rolls his eyes. "I'll read you my letter from the morning after we started going out eventually. "

"WHAT."

"Come on. The ride is here." He holds his hand out for you, and you raise a brow.

"And when will I be reading that letter?"

"One day." He laughs.

You click your tongue as he kneels down to help you put the heels on.

"And that day is?"

"I promise, pretty bird," he hums, sliding your shoe on with a kiss to your hand. "You will read it."

"If you say so." You mumble, yelping as he carries you.

"Ready to scare Gotham shitless?"

"Oh, I've been ready."

[void-ink-studios]

Gala of the Gods (Part 3)

Alright, Part 3 is here!

You get art this time around as well, as I couldn't resist drawing their fancy outfits! Hmm, nothing like attempting to draw these characters for the first time in fancy clothing with patterns and shit, I'm a smart one.

Hope y'all enjoyed this little 3-parter. If anyone have more ideas, I'd love to hear it, because I like writing these two.

Also, before you read, just as a heads up, it gets a little suggestive at the very end. It's a firm fade to black, but it is a thing that exists. Look for a line of dashes if you'd rather not read it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 -You Are Here-

Word Count: 2,300

The Organizer was not a god of... standard form. She wasn't a god of standard anything, to be fair. Scarab couldn't recall many run-ins with her, as their work very rarely overlapped, but that did not make sitting in her office with her staring down at him any more comforting or less nerve racking.

There was a constant noise, as her many, many arms carried on with her daily tasks. Some were writing, others were stamping, some were shredding, it was all happening at once. Her many eyes free roamed around the office as she worked, but she had decided to keep maybe half a dozen glued to the two gods sitting across from her desk.

Lucky them.

No one spoke for a long time. Scarab just nervously fiddled with his can, while Prismo seemed to be doing his best to will the floor to swallow him, shoulders coming up to his ears.

"I thought I had made the policy of fighting at my Gala very clear." Her voice echoed all over the room, rather than coming from some visible mouth. The both of them flinched at the sudden break of silence. "Scarab, while I might be less surprised due to past behavior, I must say I'm still disappointed with your recent track record. Prismo, I can't say I expected to see you in my office of all gods."

"But-"

"I-"

They both started at the same time, but were silenced by a single raised hand.

"However. I am not all-knowing. That is the Observer's job. Prismo, you are not one to cause problems often. And Scarab, despite your difficulties with others, you always filed your paperwork on time. So, I am giving each of you a chance to explain yourselves."

Scarab waited for some signal from her that he was permitted to speak.

"...Prismo, it was you who started it, so you will be first to explain yourself."

Prismo audibly gulped.

"O-Okay... I'd just like to clarify, Scarab and I were not fighting, not in the way you might be expecting. It was my fault..."

Scarab's eyes widened, about to jump in, but was silenced by a hard glare from the Organizer. She gestured for Prismo to continue.

"I lost control over an aspect of myself, and started lashing out. Scarab was just trying to neutralize the threat and calm me down. He wasn't trying to hurt me. Just stop me from hurting others."

There was more silence as the Organizer mulled this information over. Her gaze shifted to Scarab.

"Scarab. Can you confirm this story?"

"Yes ma'am. I was not trying to do harm onto Prismo. I had never seen that aspect of him act out, and I was not sure if or when he could regain control. So I worked to put a stop to it. The only weapon I used was a glorified flashlight."

"I see." Scarab saw distantly a set of arms start sorting through a filing cabinet. "Can you tell me why this aspect of Prismo got so out of control? Last I understood, Prismo, you had achieved complete control and cohesion with all aspects of your dream form. Has this changed?"

"No, no! It's, uh, different..."

"How so?"

"Well... my nightmare aspect only flares up under extreme negative emotions... Stuff life fear or really bad sadness or... when I'm really, really angry. That's what happened tonight, ma'am. I hit a boiling point and it... blew up."

She gave a pointed gaze toward Scarab, causing the beetle to sink into his seat.

"No! It wasn't Scarab's fault!"

"It wasn't?"

"No! I mean, Scarab's related, but it wasn't his fault!"

"How is he related, but not his fault, Prismo?"

Prismo ran a hand through his curls, trying to collect himself.

"So, Scarab's been under my management after the whole Fionna and Cake fiasco, right?"

"Yes, I remember signing that change of management form. I must say, I was a bit confused when I heard you had volunteered. My understanding was the entire incident was caused by a conflict between the two of you."

"It was but... well, the whole thing was my fault to begin with. I did make a rogue universe, and Scarab was just doing his job. He went too far at the end, and it was definitely more personal than his other cases, but I still did what he said I did, and he was right to try and do his job."

The beetle sighed. This was a conversation they had had many times. A lot of confusing feelings had needed to get detangled if they were going to live together. They had forgiven each other for quite a while.

"So, what did Scarab's assignment to you have to do with what happened tonight?"

"Well, Scarab and I have been getting closer. Bonding. We're actually really close now." The Organizer have him a very knowing stare. "I consider him one of my best friends and... I've been learned a lot about him. A lot about how he's been treated by our coworkers and... it wasn't nice and it wasn't fair. I've been getting more and more angry at the others for how they've been treating someone they don't even know, particularly Orbo."

Prismo's hands clenched into fists as he took a deep breath. The Organizer hummed. "What happened between you and Orbo?"

"Orbo cornered me tonight and tried to convince me that Scarab was changing me for the worse because I've been less than nice to him and others who keep trying to act like Scarab's some sort of monster. I got sick and tired of people acting like I was stupid for helping him, that I'm being manipulated. I'm tired of hearing 'Poor Prismo, getting stuck with Scarab, it's so sad for him', like I didn't volunteer for it!"

Scarab felt his mandibles tense... that's what had happened...? Orbo said that...? Was it... true... was he changing Prismo for the worse?

"Orbo making these comments are... interesting."

Scarab raised a brow. "Interesting how?"

"Because he filed complaints and write ups for you every Glob Forsaken time he thought he could."

All color drained from Scarab's face. His heart raced, and he started shaking enough for his carapace to click together.

"He what?!"

"He's submitted thousands of these things over the years. Pretty much none of them went anywhere because the Observer never confirmed the infractions described in the write-ups. Of all your write ups, only three have ever been acted on."

"...Three...?"

"Yes. The first two had notes that Orbo had the authority to discipline as he saw fit within reasonable boundaries. The third lead to the decision to move you into Prismo's management."

Authority to discipline as Orbo saw fit...

He touched the cropped stumps of his former antenna... he felt the lingering burn in his shoulders from his ripped wings...

"Do you... know what those punishments were...?"

"I was not privy to details. Just that they were carried out, and you returned to your duties."

There was a heavy pause, as both Prismo and Scarab processed that news.

"Well, if what you say is true, and I will be calling in the Observer to confirm, then it seems a meeting between Orbo and I is in order. However."

Prismo took hold of Scarab's hand.

"You two did break one of my only rules of the Gala. While it might not have been a true fight, it did cause panic and damage in the Judgement Hall. While it was not either of you who instigated the conflict, it was you two who escalated it to physical violence. It needs to be addressed."

The Organizer pinned the both of them down with a withering stare. Scarab would never not feel like he was a child around her.

Especially now. He saw the way her hands moved, the relentless precision with which she worked. It would be... frighteningly easy for her to pull his arms or legs off... He cast a worried glance to Prismo. His mortal body was much... softer than Scarabs... it... wouldn't survive getting plucked apart...

"...As punishment, you two are going to be my assistants for the time being. Prismo, your job as Wishmaster is still in effect, and you both will be allowed to return to the Time Room. However, you should expect paperwork to periodically be teleported into the chamber. I expect you both to work to complete that paperwork in a timely manner, as accurately as possible. You will be granted limited access to the divine records room for reference. Failure to perform this new duty will have me dragging the both of you back in here. And I won't be as nice next time."

There was a decisive stamp suddenly in front of them, as the Organizer slid a piece of paper in front of them.

Scarab read it. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He almost wept. Paperwork. He could handle that. He wasn't getting pulled part today. Prismo wasn't getting pulled apart today.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am" they both said together.

"Good. Now, off you go, I have a Star Core I need to speak with."

Before either could say another word, they were warped away in a rainbow of light, and deposited quite ungracefully on the floor of the Time Room.

"Ugh, that sucks a lot when someone else is warping me... Paperwork's gonna suck though, right Scrabs?"

Prismo rubbed the back of his head as he sat up. He spotted Scarab in the corner, huddled down, making himself as small as possible. His heart squeezed as he crawled over to him.

"Hey Lovebug..." He tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but the beetle shied away from the touch. "...Are you okay...?"

Scarab sighed a tired chirp. "No Prismo... I'm... not okay. You were... so angry... you were angry because of me... You're... you're very frightening when you're angry..."

Prismo frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, Lovebug. That wasn't your fault..."

"But it is... You've been so... so kind to me, Prismo... So accommodating and forgiving and sweet... You're making enemies out of friends over me... And... what have I done? What have I done to deserve any of that..."

"Scarab, no-"

"Look at me, Prismo" he snapped. "I'm... not worth this... I'm not good, not like you. I've just been... a problem. An obstacle. Something to work around..."

Scarab's voice sounded so small... Prismo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

"Scarab. You are not an obstacle. I do those things because I want you to feel safe and cared for. And... tonight, you've done more than anyone really has before."

"...How...?"

"Look... When Nightmo takes control, there's not much hope for me coming down on my own. He's a protective measure, but he works too well. He feeds off of negative feelings, the fear and anger around him. He just gets bigger and bigger and more hostile, until there's nothing left to feed on. He has to be subdued or he'll destroy everything around him. I've... I've never seen him back down willingly. Not until tonight."

Scarab looked into Prismo's eyes, wide and uncertain.

"But... but he didn't back down, I had to neutralize him..."

"Scarab, you talked Nightmo down. Yeah, you had to get him small enough to pay attention, but it was your words that got him to fall back. He... He knows you're safe. He'll retreat because he believes you'll protect me. And that's... never happened before. Ever."

Scarab saw the tears pooled in Prismo's eyes, a sad and tired smile spread across his face. He pulled the beetle closer to give sweet kisses to his cheek and neck.

"You've been opening my eyes, Scarab. I was only everybody's pal because they thought I was... in on the joke. I didn't even realize what complete and total wads they were, because they thought I was "cool" or whatever. I don't want to be friends with people who could do the things they've done to you, just because they think no one will care. I have standards. And now I know they don't meet them. I'm not losing friends over you, I'm just finding out who really is and isn't a friend."

Prismo placed a soothing hand at the base of one of Scarab's wings.

"So no, Lovebug. You're not making me worse. You make me, even the worst parts of me, feel safe. I love you. All of me loves you."

Scarab should've been a bit embarrassed by the noises he was making, but it didn't particularly matter now. Not when the two trapped each other in a tight embrace, and a loving kiss. Mandibles threaded through gray hair, talons touched the soft skin they found, and gentle hands soothed aching shoulders.

"I love you too, Prismo" Scarab whispered as they separated for air. He chirped softly as the Wishmaster continued kissing at his neck, his wings twitching and fluttering as best they could.

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

"...You're so beautiful. You look so beautiful like this..."

Prismo's hands held his waist firmly, thumb rubbing at a seam in his carapace.

"Hmmm... What are you planning, oh great Wishmaster?"

"Well... We do have these bodies. For a little bit longer. I've got no plans for right now. But I could. Or, we could cuddle. Up to you, Lovebug."

Prismo busied himself with Scarab's neck again as the beetle thought. Or, well, as he tried to, but his own shell was suddenly feeling a bit warm. One of his claws traced around the Wishmaster's neck and shoulder.

"I... I think you're quite beautiful as well, Prismo. I'd be... willing to explore whatever plans you might come up with."

Prismo gave him a peck on the cheek, a maybe slightly smug grin on his face.

"I think that can be arranged."

And he closed the door of the Time Room.

[harlowhockeystick]

coach sidney as written by taylor swift songs

to begin, she hoped sidney wouldn't think of her as some sort of slut for doing what she's doing. for hooking up to get her son on varsity, but in the midst of all that she starts to fall for him. she starts to imagine what it would be like if they were together. if other people started to talk, but she couldn't help it because it went straight to her head. she got lovesick, they were just in the wrong place at the right time she thinks. it might blow up in their faces, they might just fall in love, and if they do so what?

then it moves to a scene like i can see you. right after the infamous dinner at sidney's house where she laid it down real good so her son could get on varsity, the tension was thick between them. they had to be fast and keep quiet, both of them had imagined things to do with each other, and when sidney sent her a text in the middle of a school district fundraiser gala that said meet me tonight. he was tired of seeing other guys talk to her.

as she feels herself falling in love, he does too, it turns into both of them wanting to be end game. sidney wants to be her number one, he wants to be the first thing on her mind always. he knows they would be the cause of a lot of chatter amongst school staff, they would be a big deal and it might cause a rip in their reputation but he wouldn't care. and she doesn't want to be just another woman to sidney. they might try to just forget about the first hookup but they just couldn't. every night she thinks of his liquor colored eyes and she realizes she doesn't want to be just anything, she wants to be end game.

she realizes after a few dates and actually getting to know one another, that he is the absolute king of my heart, as she wrote in her journal one night. because she was perfectly fine living on her own, after her ex husband left her she decided it was just going to be her and carter and that it was better that way. but now, a month in, he calls her baby and he stays at her house some nights too when carter is at his friends for the night, of course. she enjoys spending nights outside under the stars, drinking beer and having innocent touches turn into lustful fistfuls of clothing and dark marks left in spaces where only he can see.

she knows people will just call it what they want after they have to tell the hr department at school they're together. she knows people will snicker, start rumors, paint scandalous pictures when they see them in the teachers lounge together. when they see him sitting next to her during warm ups before a game, or when they see the two love bird on a date out in town. but she smiles because she's the one he's walking toward, she's the one he's sitting next to. he caused flowers to grow back, she can laugh and smile more, she can have fun too. oh, and when she shows up to work one day with a 's' charm on her necklace next to the 'c' one she got for her son carter, you can guarantee that everyone is losing their minds.

she keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something drastic to happen, for the end to come, but she keeps running home to his sweet nothings to remind her that everything will be just fine. after a year of being together, sidney makes sure to have lots of time with carter too. sure he's dating her, but he wants to make sure over and over that carter is okay with it. she gets so happy to sidney bond with carter like he does, to make sure that sidney includes carter in everything he does at home. to see him in the kitchen humming, teaching carter how to use the grill, it happens all the time.

sidney makes sure to ask carter before anyone else if it's okay if he marries his mom. he takes him out to lunch and he makes sure carter knows it's okay if he doesn't want it to happen and that sidney will respect his decision. he gets his blessing, and as if she was eavesdropping that night she said she'll marry him with paper rings if he ever asked, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

but i kinda hope they catch us - anyway... [teaser]

Summary: well, you both survived the gala. if only you can survive what bradley has in store for the post-game

OR five times

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, and dom/sub, praise, rank, and degradation kink). part of 'and even when we're wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay' part 1, part 1.5, part 2.1, part 2.2.1, part 2.2.2

You were squirming, desperate for more of him - for more of Bradley. It was intoxicating almost. This insatiable need to prove you could do it. That you could come five times for him. Let him wring each one out of you like it was the only thing he was put on this Earth to do. 

And right now, his fingers felt heavenly pumping in and out of your pussy while you bounced on his lap. But you knew you needed more. And you knew that Bradley knew that you needed more.

You wrenched your lips away from him and took pleasure in seeing how hard he was breathing. The two of you were a hot and sweaty mess and you desperately needed to remove any final barriers between the two of you. 

“Fuck, I want your cock, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Please.”

There was a brief pause - like time had stood still. Neither of you could deny how absolutely sinful and wanton and desperate his title had just sounded as it slipped from your lips. 

Bradley moaned, deep and guttural. “Didn’t we just talk about this? You think you deserve it?” 

You nodded in quick succession. It was all you wanted right now. It was all you could think about right now. Coming on Bradley’s cock and letting the entire hotel hear you. “I know you can come without it - how about you clean my fingers off first, you got them all dirty again-”

He shoved his cum soaked fingers in your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself and started sucking. Your tongue swirled around his fingertips, making sure you didn’t miss a drop. Fuck, he had such big hands, such big fingers. Strong too. You would do anything he wanted. You whined as he shoved his fingers further into your mouth. 

“Don’t sound so smart anymore, huh? Were so perfect at dinner. Imagine if everyone saw you now? Such a fucking slut…”

Bradley took his fingers out of your mouth and wiped them on your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. It was sticky and wet, but you’d let him mark you all over a thousand times just so everyone would know you were his. You whimpered at the thought.

“Now be a good girl and lie back for me.”

You shifted off your knees to lie back on the bed - just as he had asked. Your head was cradled by the fluffy, white pillows at the top of the bed and your legs were stretched out in front of you. But you wanted Bradley on top of you. You wanted him inside you. You wanted him, you wanted him, you wanted -

“Knees up.” 

Not waiting for you to obey, he held your legs wide open, leaving you completely exposed. You tried to roll your hips up for some sort of friction - anything, really - but Bradley let out a grunt of reproach and you immediately stilled. His pupils were blown wide and hair was so messy - so unlike Bradley.

Did you look that wrecked? Did you look that desperate?

You hoped you did.

“Gonna tear you in half, kid.”

[part 2.2.2 in full]

[agendabymooner]

the paddock’s lucky husband ! toto w. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

summary: toto wolff is a lucky man amongst other things. OR a series of tweets and clips in which tilly wolff discussed her husband and their three kids.

content warning: fictional wolff kids, tweets + video clips, use of explicit language, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, dad!Toto, established relationship, toto’s older kids being cool asf (idk their social media handles)

note: what is sleep? enjoy xx

masterlist

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, loricciardo

danielricciardo i like how you didn’t post anything for a whole year since last year’s canadian gp and come back with a brand new toddler liked by tillywolff

tillywolff delmo’s grown too fast okay 🥲

danielricciardo he’s no longer allowed to 😭

user1 idk what i love the most: a year old adelmo being taught how to skate by toto or toto sleeping while adelmo’s awake

user2 you would think that tia and soren are twins just looking at the second last picture

user3 i’ve been promptly fed with toto’s back. thank you tilly 🫶

user4 girl 😅 that’s her husband

ben.wolff tia must have missed her brother ben 🥲 liked by tillywolff

tillywolff if by that you mean causing chaos in your dad’s office then yes 😂 they’re looking forward to seeing you and rosawolff 😉

rosawolff i would really prefer not to make a mess in papa’s office, thank you very much :)

rosawolff look at addie and ren :((( i miss those little stinkers liked by tillywolff

tillywolff ren’s been wondering where you’ve been so maybe this is a chance to spend some time with them!!!

lewishamilton ugh elmo’s so big now 😩 how’s lottie supposed to play with him? liked by tillywolff

tillywolff delmo doesn’t like to roughhouse don’t worry 😅

user5 tilly, baby, your child is tall like his dad 😀

TILLY WOLFF’S PREGNANCY GLOW MAKES A COME BACK AT THE 2022 MET GALA by vogue

[1st image: emma: you look like you came from a minimalist renaissance painting, might i add. tilly: thank you! you look amazing yourself. who're you wearing? e: i should be asking that question but louis vuitton and cartier. you? t: christian siriano. he did all of this on friday which i'm grateful for.]

[2nd: e: your husband, toto- he would normally attend the gala with you, right? t: yes. he actually couldn't right now because he's in miami with the kids in preparation for the grand prix. he was insisting that he should come along but i kept giving him the outline of his job roles that he can't skip out on.]

[3rd: e: he's just being a husband, if you think of it. t: yes but he's a husband who also happens to have a racing team that are hoping to contend for the world constructors championship. e: what did he say when you told him he couldn't go? t: he was rather cranky. he wasn't the typical toto who would radiate this intense energy. he was just upset i couldn't allow him to go.]

[4th: t: i'm a couple weeks away from surpassing my first trimester, and he doesn't seem to think i'd do perfectly fine on my own especially if he's away and we're not at home. he's still worried i would trip and everything as if i hadn't worn heels back when i was pregnant with soren and tia. e: you must be some sort of superwoman if you could do that while pregnant!]

[5th: t: i worked hard on it. sometimes mary janes wouldn't do my job outfit any justice and there'd be a pair of kitten heels calling for me. e: how did your poor feet feel? t: swollen. i cried after realizing i can't wear them unless i get a bigger size. but it's not anything that i couldn't get. it's mostly just toto that i have to deal with whenever he sees me slipping on some heels.]

[6th: e: who would have thought that the big bad wolff could feel the discomfort of a pregnant woman by simply looking at her? t: *laughs* he's an empath of some sort. i don't know. i've been with him for almost a decade and one of things that l've learned is that he's quite observant and wouldn't budge unless you admit that he was right about what he saw.]

Q&A WITH TILLY by tilly marie

[1st image: what smell brings back good memories?]

[2nd: what could be a scent that brings back good memories? this is quite hard... i think i would say baby powder? *laughs* it sounds quite peculiar but it's something that reminds me that l've got the best things that could have happened to me. which are my children.]

[3rd: it's not really that peculiar, if i come think of it. there are people that like the smell of gasoline still to this day. i have spent years in garages and l've had my fair share of smoking experiences- those scents were addicting but the baby powder? extremely addictive. you won't have any issue with your lungs too.]

ATTENDING THE DIOR HAUTE COUTURE SHOW by tilly marie

clip one — soren’s wake up call… literally

[1st image: the breakfast came it quite late today and my neighbour's playing the most awful songs in the morning. i absolutely thought that i was going to have the most horrendous day at the haute couture show then my husband just rang and it turned out it was soren who called me early in the morning to say hi. he stole his papa's phone from the bedside and somehow knew the passcode. or it's probably his face id that did it. who knows.]

[2nd: i was telling him about how hungry i was because my breakfast wasn't ready, so my sweet boy didn't even hesitate to run downstairs to "cook"- he began to grab pans and eggs to "cook." thankfully toto had gotten up by then otherwise soren would've gotten into some sort of accident just trying to make me an omelette from brackley. i'm in paris but my sweet boy thinks he could send the breakfast my way as soon as possible.]

clip two — tilly shows how adelmo moves

[1st image: tilly: do you wanna see how adelmo dances to aladdin's "friend like me?" cameraman: yes of course. why not? tilly: great, this is how his little 2 year old self dances with the genie]

[2nd: *hums in adelmo torger lewis wolff*]

clip three — tia is the spoiled cub of the cubs

[1st image: i think i should try to put tia in my purse and take her with me on a show next time because i- *laughs* i can't behave by myself anymore. tia would most likely be scolding me and she'd be so happy to see all of these clothes. then she'd probably ask it she could get a dress tailored for her from the haute couture collection.]

[2nd: now that i think of it, she's most likely to empty toto's wallet in one go. whenever she and toto goes out for some daddy-daughter time, tia would return with her papa carrying shitloads of shopping bags. the sad case is that they all came from harrods- but that's the only place we could go without being hounded by cameras. still... toto goes all out for her all the time.]

[piedpiperart]

Phantom of Gotham 21

Chapter 20

While the bats were at the gala, Tim and Jason looped in Steph and Babs at Jason’s apartment. They’d brief the others on the plan once the Gala was over, assuming they had a plan by then. It was grating on Jason’s nerves just how hard to track the GIW was. Babs did the best she could tracking the van through the CCTV while Tim tracked down their finances to figure out any buildings they might’ve purchased. 

The problem was that everything was relatively difficult because while the GIW worked for the government, they’d obviously made some ghostly upgrades to their system. Even after swapping info with Phantom and Frostbite, they hadn’t yet had a chance to go through the specifics. From what Tim could gather from the GIW’s files, there seemed to be a ghost with technology powers who had been held by the GIW for a while before escaping.. That particular ghost might’ve upgraded the systems under duress. The bats had a pretty strong feeling that Phantom might’ve rescued him. 

Speaking of Phantom, there’d been no sign of the friendly ghost. Not a word since Danny was taken, and the trio was hoping he was at least safe. They didn’t put much hope into it though, considering Phantom’s job was to protect Danny and now both Danny and Phantom were gone. Tim tried not to think about how Phantom was technically a king, and the amount of war crimes the GIW were racking up against the Realms. 

“That’s it,”Jason stood abruptly, snatching Tim’s eighth mug of steaming hot coffee from the counter. Tim looked up from his laptop with a scandalized expression.  Jason stared him down mercilessly.

“Jas-”Tim started, making pathetic grabby hands toward the mug, but Jason merely held it out farther out of his reach. 

“Nope,”Jason said firmly. “We’re taking a break. You at least need a shower and a nap.”

“But Danny-”Tim protested, standing upright, only to sway a little. Jason gave him a pointed look and Tim scowled. At this point, the bags under his eyes were almost pitch black.

“Babs, Steph and I can take over while you take care of yourself. Sleep for at least 6 hours,”Jason said sternly. “If you don’t, you’ll pass out before we even get to rescue him.”

Tim scoffed, one that frustratingly ended with a yawn. Okay, Tim could see his point, but he also wasn’t sure if he would be able to sleep when his friend was in trouble. He’d seen the autopsy scar on Danny. He could only imagine what sort of torture he was being put through. “4 hours,”Tim bargained. Jason had set his coffee on the counter, shooing Tim towards the shower while he glanced longingly at his mug. 

“No less than 5,”Jason said, and with one final push Tim found himself in the bathroom alone with the door shut. He sighed. Tim knew Jason was right, that he had to be at his best if Red Robin wanted to rescue Danny successfully. And Phantom, assuming they had both of them. So, reluctantly, Tim started the shower. Only five hours, he thought. Then he could get back to rescuing his friends. 

Jason let out a breath, pulling Tim’s computer close to him and sitting down on the barstool. He took a swig of Tim’s coffee and grimaced, wondering how the kid could stand to drink something so bitter. “You should take a break too,”Steph called from where she was on another laptop on the couch. In front of her was a map of the city and a pile of old markers that may or may not still work. “Take a nap for a bit, Babs and I can take it from here for an hour or so,”Steph said, and Jason reluctantly nodded. 

“I’ll be back in two hours,”Jason muttered, leaving for his bedroom. He’d been up later than usual the night before, and his usual daytime sleep was interrupted by Danny’s capture. He’d been up since then and it was around 11 pm. Usually, he took better care of himself but he was worried about Danny. Jason knew he had a soft spot for the kid, especially since learning of their tragically similar backstories. Danny and Phantom were just kids. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen to them in captivity.

 Jason sighed heavily, knowing he would be more effective at finding them if he got some sleep, making his way to collapse onto his soft bed. Behind him, Steph lamented about managing workaholics to Babs and bragging about how they have an actual sleep schedule. 

-----

Seven hours later, mostly well-rested, they’d come up with three different locations under GIW funding in the Gotham area. They’d looped in the rest of the team and set out with a plan. Spoiler and Nightwing went for the warehouse on the north side, Batman and Robin went for the one closest to Bristol, and Red Hood and Red Robin were assigned the one by the docks. It was precaution to hit all three at once, considering with this they especially weren’t taking any chances. It limited the risk of them alerting the others and moving.

Oddly enough, B and Robin had also encountered a man looking for Danny at the Gala. Vlad Masters, billionaire and owner of Dalv Co, was a pretentious creep according to Robin. According to Batman, he had an unhealthy obsession with Danny and could possibly be involved in his disappearance given their strained relationship. Jason was sure Danny might have some sort of power that attracted billionaires, but he tabled that info to look into after Danny’s rescue. 

Jason took a breath before pulling off his signature helmet in favor of his red domino. He didn’t want to freak the kid out even more when they rescued him, and the domino was a lot less intimidating. Red Robin gave him a curt nod before grappling to the top of the building. He was going to get into the control room to get eyes on the inside of the situation while Jason broke in the old fashioned way. His goal was to find wherever the prisoners were being kept.

“I’m in,”Red Robin’s voice crackled over comms, and Jason relaxed minutely. “I don’t see anything on Danny, but it looks like they got Phantom here.” Jason could hear the grimace in his voice as the keyboard clacks sounded. 

Jason cursed, dashing around a corner when he spotted a white suit. “You’re close, take a left and his cell should be on the right,”Red Robin informed. “They have one other prisoner here but it’s not Danny. I’ll unlock the cells, you head for Phantom and I’ll get the other one.”

Red Hood confirmed with Red Robin before stealthily booking it to the cells. He creeped down the pristine white halls before coming across a bunch of doors, one glowing an unsettling green. He figured that cell was the only one in use and made his way to the door. He thanked Tim in his head when the door clicked open without any resistance, and he quietly made his way inside, shutting the door behind him in case any white suits came by. 

Scanning the room, he could see nothing but pristine white walls with a sad looking slab that was probably supposed to be a bed protruding from one corner about a foot or so from the ground. Squinting, he couldn’t see anyone inside until he caught a glimpse of movement in the shape of a black shadow tucked under the bed. 

“Phantom?” Jason called out quietly, approaching the bed warily. He heard a faint rumble, almost like a growl that had him halting about two feet from the bed. Puzzled, he crouched down until he was able to peer underneath the metal bed. His eyes widened as he saw what looked like Phantom curled up in the corner, a ghostly tail in place of legs wrapped around him. Bright glowing green eyes peered at him suspiciously from the shadows and Jason let out a breath. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,”Jason called out softly, holding his hands up placatingly. Something was wrong though, Jason knew. There wasn’t any recognition in Phantom’s gaze, only wariness and a bit of curiosity. “I’m Red Hood, remember me?”

No response. Jason bit the inside of his cheek as he thought of a way to coax Phantom out from under the bed when he spotted a glint of metal under Phantom’s chin. Was that-? Jason shifted, Phantom’s eyes tracked his every movement, and he caught a better glimpse at what looked like a metal collar around Phantom’s neck. 

“Found Phantom,”Jason gritted out into his comm, barely containing his anger. “They got some kind of collar on him and he doesn’t seem to recognise me. I’m gonna try to coax him out but I might need your help.”

“A collar?” Red Robin repeated, seemingly multitasking with something. “Ah, got it. I’ll send you the collar schematics in case you want to try hacking it, but I’ll see if I can find the tech they are using to get it off.”

Jason grunted an affirmative, sinking to the ground in front of the ghost. “Hey, it’s alright, okay buddy?”Jason called, feeling his pockets for anything that might help the situation. He came across a few protein bars and figured it was worth a try. “I’m here to get you out of this place. Think you can come out of there?” He asked, gently tearing into one of the protein bar packages. 

As expected, there was no response, but he saw Phantom’s eyes locked on the bar so he figured he was on the right track. “You hungry?” Jason asked, breaking off a piece and holding it out to the kid. He perked up a little, sniffing the air once, but still looked wary of Jason. He frowned, but instead tossed the piece of bar close enough to Phantom to be within arms length but not hit him. 

The ghost flinched, but seemed more interested in the food as a hand sneaked out of the curled up ball and snatched up the bar. Phantom sniffed it before unceremoniously shoving it into his mouth, showing off sharper than usual teeth for Jason to see. Red Hood sighed in relief when Phantom seemed to look over at him expectantly, losing a bit of wariness. 

Hood broke off another piece, getting a chirp in response as Phantom spotted it in his gloved hand. This time, Jason didn’t toss it to him, but instead waited patiently for Phantom to creep out from the corner. He was cautious, but it seemed the taste of food after who knows how long was more motivating at the moment. Jason didn’t even know if Phantom ate human food, but was willing to try anything to get him out of this place quickly. He didn’t want to have to resort to dragging him out of his hiding spot.His green-eyed gaze shot from the bar to Jason rapidly before a hand darted out to grab it. Jason took a moment to look over Phantom while the ghost chewed on the piece of bar.

Phantom seemed to not have any ghost powers because of the collar, but had crawled out using his tail like a snake and holding himself up with his arms. Jason saw his ears and teeth were pointier than usual, and his white gloves looked more like claws. His bright green eyes seemed duller, but his pupils were blown super wide. The ghost looked paler than normal, and his white hair oddly still, considering it always flowed like it was in water whenever Jason had seen him before. Now his hair was laying flat, bangs drifting over his eyes every so often.

A chirp brings him out of his head and he looks to see Phantom a lot closer than before, looking from his hands to his pockets to his face expectantly. Jason let out a huff, breaking off another piece of bar and handing it over. It was quickly snatched up by the ghost, and the distraction gave Jason time to examine the collar around his neck. It was silver with glowing green parts. Unhappily, he thinks he might have to restrain Phantom in order to get it off. Hood didn’t see any openings for a lock or key to be, and as if reading his mind, Tim’s voice came over the comm. 

“On my way with the key and the other captive,”Tim informed.”One minute away. How’s Phantom?”

Jason hummed, feeding Phantom another piece and shifting himself to a better position on the ground. “Be ready to get the collar off as soon as you come in,”Jason murmured into the comm. Phantom’s eyes met his, tilting his head curiously before his gaze darting to Jason’s hands for more snacks. 

Suddenly, the door clicked, and Phantom looked over at the entrance with his ears pinned back. He was tense, ready to bolt as the door started opening, but Jason’s hands darted out fast and latched onto the collar before Phantom could retreat. His right hand gripped the collar while his left restrained Phantom’s arms as he pulled the ghost against his chest as gently as possible. Phantom let out a yelp and then a growl as he struggled in his restraints. Jason repositioned the hand on the collar to lessen any pain, when Phantom promptly bit his hand. Jason was thankful for his thick gloves preventing those sharp teeth from doing any damage, but even through the gloves he could feel pinpricks of pain on the surface of his skin. Felt like kitten teeth through all the layers though, so he was sure it wouldn’t draw blood.

Phantom was well-restrained, despite the writhing of his tail pinned with one of Jason’s legs. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,”Jason soothed, and he jerked his head towards Phantom when Tim came through the door quickly with some sort of mechanism in his hand. 

“Shit,”Tim cursed, and rushed over to Phantom’s side. The ghost did not like another person approaching and promptly started struggling harder. Jason held him easily though, since the ghost was much weaker thanks to the collar. His fangs were still buried in Jason’s glove, but as Tim came closer to the thing on his neck, the growls turned to whimpers and panicked rumblings. 

“Sorry,”Tim grimaced, but quickly pressed the device to the side of the collar and both glowed green before the collar broke apart with a short hiss. Quickly, Tim gently unwound the collar from Phantom’s neck while the ghost processed what just happened.

Slowly, Jason let go of Phantom as the grip on his hand loosened, ghost slumping over. Tim backed away a bit, giving space while he multitasked with a wrist computer. Jason kept his eyes on Phantom though, steadying him with a hand to his back gently. The ghost blinked, shaking his head and reaching up to rub his eyes. This time, when Jason and Phantom’s eyes met, there was the barest hints of recognition. The ghost let out a warbly chirp, hands going to feel around his neck. Jason gently guided his hands away from the red marks around the kids neck before moving to stand. 

“You alright buddy?” Jason asked, keeping a steady hand on the ghost as Phantom looked around, finding Tim. Phantom didn’t answer, but he did start floating up to Jason’s eye level. It seemed sluggish and slow compared to Phantom’s usual way of floating through the air gracefully. His tail seemed to glitch, turning into two or three wisps before consolidating into one again. Parts of him even went invisible, almost uncontrollably before returning to normal.

“Looking at the schematics of the collar, it was designed to bring out Phantom’s ‘true form’,”Red Robin commented with a frown. “It looks like Phantom might’ve been disguised as Danny when they brought him in, so to get him to drop the disguise they used the collar. So, Danny might still be safe.”

“I don’t think it just restricted his ability to shapeshift,”Jason grunted. Phantom was having issues with flying so he ended up with his hands curled onto Jason’s shoulder for support while the rest of him trailed behind. Phantom still seemed to be slowly regaining his functions, chirping quietly to himself or to Jason a few times as he got himself situated. “It’s like the collar shut down his brain along with his powers.”

“That... might be what happened,”Red Robin sighed,”At least it seems like he’s coming back to normal, albeit slowly. I’ll get in touch with everyone else. If they haven’t seen Danny at the other places then he might be laying low.”

“I doubt he’d be laying low while his friend was stuck here in his place,”Jason commented dryly as he followed Red Robin out of Phantom’s cell and into the hall. Then he remembered something. “What about the other prisoner?”

“Oh,”Red halted, then turned to Jason. He pulled back his cape a little to reveal a floating green blob with two little red chocolate chip sized eyes. Jason’s eyes widened. “Found this little guy in a fishtank. I think he’s more like Cujo? Not as sentient, I guess. But he seems fine with staying with me for now,”Tim rambled. Jason nodded absently. 

“Only you Double R, only you,”Jason shook his head fondly. Phantom seemed to perk up at the sight of the floating blob, but remained curled around Jason’s shoulders like a giant snake. “Come on, let’s get them out of here before we run into anyone.”

Red scoffed. “Their building security is surprisingly lax compared to their digital files,” But kept walking anyway. “This way, we’re almost out.”

Jason swore Tim jinxed them with that sentence, and was proven right by the faint click sounding behind them. Both vigilante’s reacted in an instant, spinning around to face a lady in a teal jumpsuit. Phantom’s claws dug deeper into Jason’s shoulder armor at the sight of her. 

“You’re not going anywhere with it. That ghost is government property,”The lady growled, pointing what looked like a ghost weapon at them. She continued monologuing about how they shouldn’t be protecting ghosts like Phantom, that it was just manipulating them, etc. Hood wasn’t paying attention to her speech, but keeping an eye on Phantom so he wouldn’t disappear on them. Tim shuffled closer to Hood, masking the movements as he armed himself with batarangs. The Lady had her hood down, showing red hair cropped short and dark red goggles resting on top of her head. Jason frowned, then realized why she seemed so familiar. 

She was Danny’s mom.

The same one who vivisected her own son. 

Before Maddeline could get in another word, Jason had his gun drawn in a rage and fired a shot into her thigh. Her eyes widened in shock and then pain as she yelped and collapsed to the floor, unable to stand. Tim sniped the gun out of her hand with the batarang at the same time, causing it to clatter to the ground a foot away from them. 

“You better quit while you’re ahead,”Jason drawled, fiddling with his gun menacingly. “You may hunt ghosts with your little toys, but you’re no match for real guns like these. That was a warning shot,”Jason nodded to her thigh, where it was sluggishly bleeding onto the floor. The woman stared up at him incredulously. “Next time I catch word of you hurting ghosts, or even making weapons against them, the next bullet is going in your head.” 

The lady nodded rapidly, opening her mouth to speak but only a whimper came out. Honestly, Jason expected her to be a bit stronger. After what she did to her own son she deserved worse. “Got it?”

“Y-yes,”Maddie stammered, clutching her leg as tears streamed down her face. “B- but it took my son- my, my baby boy. I need it to- to find him,”Her voice broke at the last word, but Jason had no sympathy for her. 

“If this is what you do to innocent creatures,”Jason sneered, gesturing to Phantom, who was clinging onto Jason like a frightened cat. “Then I don’t think he wants to be found. Not by you.”

Red Hood turned to go, leaving the pathetic excuse for a scientist crying on the floor. Red Robin said nothing as he followed, and Jason was relieved that the kid didn’t bring up the whole ‘no killing’ rule. Bruce definitely would’ve. Once they made it out and headed to their vehicle- one of Jason’s cars, considering they didn’t know what shape their rescuee would be in and a motorcycle wouldn’t work to carry them all safely- Red Robin helped him maneuver Phantom into the car. 

Only, the ghost refused to part from Jason, so he ended up in the backseat with Phantom curled up around him, patting him gently like he was looking for more treats. Jason noticed how Phantom still seemed to glitch out of his powers, sometimes his hand going invisible, or floating randomly before settling back in the seat. He hoped it wasn’t painful for him, but was glad things were coming back. 

Jason relented, pulling out another protein bar to feed the ghost with while Tim and his little blob ghost sat in the front seat. “Ready to go?” Tim called softly from the front. Jason confirmed and Tim drove off. “The others didn’t find much at the other places, but while we were on our way out, there was an emergency with Arkham. I told them we’d be fine with Phantom while they brought the escapees back,”Tim said dryly. 

Jason huffed in response, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The rest of the ride sat in silence, only broken by Phantom’s occasional chirp for more food and chewing noises. Jason wondered not for the first time if ghosts could even eat human food. His thoughts came back to the woman in the jumpsuit and he frowned. He didn’t regret it, but wondered if it was the right call to make. She had been trying to find her son, in the end. 

“She deserved it,”Tim said quietly but sternly from the driver’s seat. Jason fought a smile and relaxed into the backseat. Neither of them mentioned the sudden lack of tension in the car after that. 

“You think Danny’s somewhere safe?” Jason piped up from the backseat a couple minutes later. Phantom perked up beside him, blinking slowly. He still seemed out of it from what Jason could tell, and he was still glitching a lot. 

Tim was silent for a moment before answering, making Jason tense. “I have some theories.” Tim settled on. 

“Can I hear them?” Jason pestered, patting Phantom on the head to settle him down. He didn’t have any more snacks but that didn’t stop Phantom from trying to phase his grubby little ghost hands into his pockets. 

“It could be that Phantom was disguised as Danny and got captured, leaving Danny safe somewhere. That would explain why we found Phantom and not Danny,”Tim said, keeping his eye on the road. Jason tried to catch a glimpse of his face through the mirror but couldn’t get a good angle with the wriggly ghost next to him. 

“Or it could also mean that Danny is Phantom.”

Chapter 22

[avatrice-week]

Avatrice Week 2023 Masterpost

Day 1 - Fake Dating or Undercover

Title: Tell Me You Don't Know Me Author: quietblueriver Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Ava and Beatrice run into Beatrice's parents.

Title: Always a pleasure Author: orphan_account Rating: General Audiences Summary: “And this is the, uhm, wife, I presume?”

Title: Serenading in the Trenches Author: spaceosshy Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Beatrice and Ava are reunited after almost a year apart. They're immediately tasked with going undercover, posing as a married couple of prolific assassins in the hopes of putting a stop to Adriel's criminal activies.

Title: Missions and Love Author: Creativityx Rating: General Audiences Summary: Ava has been assigned to work with the OCS' top agent, Beatrice. It was a simple mission, pretend to be girlfriends, capture one of Adriel's followers and return to the OCS. What Ava wasn't planning for was her fake girlfriend being so beautiful.

Title: when dividin' up the universe (you could have mine) Author: organicdonut Rating: General Audiences Summary: “Okay, so. I have, uh, some updates,” Beatrice does not like the way Ava said updates, “About last night.” “Will the updates explain why everyone in the bar is looking at me like I’ve forbidden alcohol?”

Title: Will you be my fake girlfriend? Author: jessnope Rating: Not Rated Summary: “Wouldn’t people think it weird?” Ava asked, looking genuinely thoughtful. Somehow, Beatrice could sense it was a trap even through the state of tiredness she found herself, Ava had a spark in her eyes.

Title: Philanthropy for the Heart Author: SharonSharpe Rating: Explicit Summary: The Areala General Hospital is hosting its annual charity gala and everyone is excited for the social event of the season. That is everyone except Dr. Beatrice Young. When she makes the mistake of saying Ava is her date for the gala the two are forced to address their flourishing feelings for the other.

Day 2 - Injured or Sick

Title: Life is About More Than Just Fighting Author: strongwomenunited Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: At the end of 2x06, you can see that Beatrice clearly had an injured side, yet in 2x07, it's magically healed. In this story, Ava finds Beatrice after Mother Superior has been brought back to life trying to get her armor off, but her side is in pain. So we will see some hurt/comfort, but you know emotions come out and their relationship changes...

Title: A Sick Day Author: strongwomenunited Rating: General Audiences Summary: During the two month period, Beatrice gets a cold after a busy night at the Bar, do they end up training or does Ava make her rest?

Title: That Lilith Voice Inside My Head Author: quietblueriver Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: AU - Lawyer!Bea tries to bring Ava soup. Lilith helps. Sort of.

Title: I'll Hold You (Blood, Bruises and All) Author: spaceosshy Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: The Halo pulses as Ava roars with rage, knocking Beatrice’s assailant backwards into the stone wall. He falls, limp and unmoving. Ava can distantly hear all the times Mother Superion has told her to check the body but she doesn't care. She's already halfway to Beatrice’s side.

Day 3 - Jealousy

Title: What Love Feels Like Author: strongwomenunited Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: In 2x02, what if Miguel didn't walk into Bar La Vasseur while that woman was flirting with Beatrice? What if Ava took things into her own hands to end that conversation...? This story explores the idea of Ava spilling some drinks on a certain woman flirting with Beatrice. How will she react?

Day 4 - Soulmates

Title: Soulmarked Author: Creativityx Rating: General Audiences Summary: That fateful day when she was seven, saw her soulmark left incomplete with only the letter 'B' on her wrist. Ava learns to wear long sleeves that day. With little hope of finding her soulmate, she puts herself to work as a mechanic fixing cars to stop anyone else from experiencing the same as her.

Her life is ordinary until one client walks through the door with a need for repairs.

Day 5 - Hear Each Other’s Thoughts

[None}

Day 6 - Smut or Creator’s Choice

Title: I Can Taste You In My Rage Author: spaceosshy Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Lilith returns to the Cat's Cradle in the hopes of making amends. Beatrice has some things to say.

Title: The One Time She Knew Author: JetpackingPenguin Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Five times Beatrice didn't think Ava returned her feelings and the one time she did

Day 7 - Domesticity

Title: The Teddy Bea-r Author: Lapincobra Rating: Not Rated Summary: Fanart and a little draft for Day 7 Of Avatrice week - Domesticity

[haileybeehappy]

Award Winner

Authors note :This fic was inspired by the lines "It was always you," but they didn't make their way into the fic. Oops. But this is the longest fic I've ever written. So I hope y'all like it :D

Summary : New to the music industry you make fast friends with global super star musician Harry Styles and create a close bond. Leaving you wanting more. Unsure of how he feels for you.

Word Count : 4.6K

Warnings : Fluff, Fluff, Fluff, Simp Harry if we're being honest, drug use well mention I guess, Drinking, slight angst if you squint, self concious reader, I think that's it.

Waiting in line to get onto the red carpet is always the most nerve wracking part of the night. The anxiety and pressure built to the top. Heart beating a mile a minute and trying not to let the worry show on your face. The second you step onto the carpet the cameras snap at lightning speed. Flashes blinding you as frenzied hungry photographers yell at you to 'look at me look at me!' 'give me a smile honey!' 'over here over here' coming from all directions. A smile plastered across your face and the mantra of 'don't fall, don't fall, don't fall,' repeating over and over in your head. A small voice eating at you telling you that you're not supposed to be here. You're not good enough to be here. There's someone out there that deserves to be here more.

The walk down the corridor of cameras is done in a flash but feels like hours all at the same time. Taking in a deep breath as you make your way through a back passage way to get to the stairs of the event. Heels clicking with the roars of the crowd creating a white noise. Your hands wringing in front of you. Pulling and twisting your fingers as you get closer to the roars of the people. Opening the doors you are thrusted into the theatre of an award shows. Shown to your seat by a small woman wearing a headset. She motions to your place card and you sit. Looking at the cards sat on wither side of you. A unknown name on your right and the lovely Harry Styles on your left. The table empty besides yourself with the other tables around you filling slowly. You sip at your glass of water before the seat next to you is filled. You look over at your friend and give a smile.

"Harry!" You smile and he raises arms to hug you. His long arms wrap around you and you find calmness in his embrace. The pressure of his hold grounding you and relaxing your heartrate for the seconds of the hug. He pulls away, his hands not leaving your arms. Dancing down to your elbow and hold your forearms in his grasp.

"I am so grateful I am sitting next to you," His smile wide an his hands clammy. "I don't think I could make it if I didn't have my drinking buddy," he chuckles. You throw your head back in a laugh. Remembering your last encounter at a Met Gala after party hiding in a corner taking shots and laughing all night. His hands touching and grabbing at you in the way he does all his friends. A very touchy drunk he is.

"Let's maybe not drink that much in front of the cameras tonight," you wink at him. "We can save that for the after parties," He squeezes his hands and releases his hold on you.

"Yes of course," he sits back in his chair. "How was the carpet?" he asks. You shrug.

"It was okay I guess," your hands finding each other and twisting your rings. "Was over in a flash but seemed to last an eternity," his hands come to cover yours. Grasping your fingers in his.

"I get it honey," he nods. "I think over the years it's just become part of the job but I still get this voice in my head that calls me a dumbass and tells me all sorts of names," he smiles shyly.

"Yeah, kinda like that. I just feel like I'm not supposed to be here," the two of you sit in silence before someone sits next to you and you quickly pull your hands from him.

"Hi," they speak quietly to you as an artist you recognize sits next to you, along with someone you assume is their date. You give the both of them a wave. As the table settles in you direct your eyes to the stage. As the show progresses and awards are given you and Harry share small conversations exchanged. Mostly about the winners and the show itself. As the category for "Album of the Year," Comes up your eyes lock on Harrys. One of the many awards that he has been nominated for and the last one left for him to win. His hand quickly grasps yours and squeezes your fingers in his. His rings cold against your skin.

"You got this," you whisper. "Four for four right?" you smile at him. His face is displayed across the screen as you wait for the announcement to be made. His face settled into a frown, eyebrows furrowed in anticipation.

"Harry Styles!" The announcer yells. The crowd uproars and you stand to your feet. Pulling him up to stand along with you.

"I told you!" you scream. His arms wrap around you again. "I knew it." you whisper to him as his head settles into your neck. He pulls back from you.

"I am so glad I get to have you here with me here for this," The smile on his face filling your heart. The same smile displayed on your face. To the point where your face hurts. He turns to walk to the stage. Holding your hand out with him as he walks away. He pulls you back quickly leaving a kiss on your cheek before he makes his way to the stage. shaking hands and giving hug on his route to the podium.

"Thank you so so much," is what he starts with. Standing behind the mic with the award in his hands. "Thank you to everyone here who made this possible. To all of you working so hard to make this show run and make this evening possible. Thank you to my amazing team who helps me create beautiful art. And a wonderful thank you to my peers and amazing nominees who deserve this award as much as I do. And most of all thank you to my amazing, wonderful and absolutely stunning fans who make living my life possible. Thank you Thank you Thank you," He raises the award above his head and the crowd screams as he thrusts the gold encrusted gramophone into the air.

He waltzes his way back to stage with a closed smile on his face. The trophy is taken from him before it makes it to the table to be engraves and places with his others. He slots himself next to you.

"Bloody hell," He sighs. "I can't believe that just happened," the smile still on his face.

"I can," you say smugly. "You deserve it," he grabs your hand and the two of you sit like that for the rest of the show.

As the night concludes you and Harry make your way through the waves of people. His hands not leaving your body in fear of losing you in the crowd. His fingers entwined in yours or his hand placed on the small of your back while he guides you towards the cars. Stopping occasionally to small talk and except congratulations from others.

Your driver comes into view.

"I'll see you at Abbeys?" you ask as you drift towards your driver. Referring to the club that one of the many After parties will be.

"Of course love," he winks and turns to find his own car. Your driver, Philip, opens your door and you step in. Pulling your dress in behind you.

"Thank you," you voice to the man before he closes the door. The worlds instantly becoming quieter. Still hearing the hum of the screams outside the black suburban. The roars amplified again as Philip gets into the car and closes the door behind himself.

“To the hotel?” He asks.

“Yes. Outfit change then to Abbeys,” you smile at him.

“Sounds like a plan,” he shifts the car into drive and you wined through the streets to get to the hotel. Pulling up to the hotel you hop out of the car and are ushered up to your room by your manager and friend Raini.

“Okay so we have a few options for you. I know you liked the green dress but my in at Gucci found a beautiful floor length back sheer dress that I think would suit you so well?” She states but comes out as a question.

“No harm in trying it on,” you shrug. The two of you get on the elevator.

“Awesome,” she nods. Then there’s a lil of silence. “So Harry?” She asks. You look at her curiously.

“What about Harry?” You question back.

“When did you two get close?” She has a smug but curious look on her face.

“The after party for The Met,” you shrug. “We talk a. It here and there but nothing crazy,”

“Nothing crazy,” she laughs. “You two were making eyes at each other all night and were constantly holding hands and shit!”

“Whatever we were not,” you smile as the elevator rings and you step off at your floor. Walking quickly to your room where your trusted hair and makeup artist was waiting to give you a whole new look.

“You so were!” Raini yells after you. You shake your head. A smile still on your lips. As you open the door your makeup artist screams your name.

“You did not tell me that you and Harry were an item!” You roll your eyes and turn around. Glaring at Raini. She holds her hands up defensively.

“I didn’t say a thing she did that all on her own,” you turn back to Daisy.

“What?” She asks. Perplexed.

“We are not a thing. He’s just my friend,” she gives you a look as you spin around so she can unzip you from your gown.

“Pretty touchy for just friends,”

“Well we are just friends so whatever,” you respond as the dress drops off you. You step out of it and walk to the dresses in their bags hung up on the roll away hanger. You pull the black dress out and unzip the bag. Raini helps you get it on zipping you into the gown. The fabric digging into your sides. Wrapping into your ribcage and pushing the air out of your lungs. The sleeves are itchy and you can just FEEL it all over your body. It’s a beautiful dress but you can’t breathe.

“I don’t think so Raini,” you wheeze out pulling at the cups of the dress. “I know beauty is pain but I can’t be beautiful passed out,” you laugh. She nods.

“It’s definitely not our usual style,” she clicks her tongue. “Let’s try the red and then we can do the green if you don’t like the red okay?” She speaks quickly as she unzips you and moves to get the red dress. You drape the dress across the hotel room bed when there’s a knock at the door. You and Raini look at each other. “You expecting someone?” She asks and you shake your head. She moves to the door and you grab the red dress from her and slip into it and Daisy comes behind you to tie you into the corset back dress.

You hear Raini and a man exchanging words before she comes back into the main part of the room holding a HUGE bouquet. Roses and babies breath exploding out of a large crystal vase. Your jaw drops. You reach out and pluck the card tucked into the flowers. You read aloud.

“For the most beautiful woman at the Grammies deserves a beautiful bouquet,” no name. You look up at Raini and she shrugs.

“The guy who delivered them said he doesn’t know who sent them,” you flip the card over. There’s no name anywhere. You flip it back and forth a few times willing a name to show up.

“It’s not gonna change,” Raini laughs. Daisy chuckles with her. You drop the card down into the bed.

“What the fuck?” Is all you say.

“I don’t know man,” Raini starts. “I think the red looks good though!” She fluffs the ends of the short dress out.

“I like it a lot too!” You sigh as you twirl and the ends fluff out. “I think this is it!” You nod. Daisy guides you to the chair. She strips you of your heavy makeup and applies a light Smokey eye to your lids. High lights your cheeks and adds lots of blush. Just how you like it. She paints your lips a pinky red and finishes with falsies. You look refreshed. Raini’s phone rings and you pop out of the chair.

“Ready she asks?” You nod grabbing your phone off the desk and shoving into the small studded black clutch and follow her out the door.

You arrive at the party. Still in the back of the car. Waiting for Philip to open the door for you. As you get out you thank him. Your security is not far behind you as you walk along the street. The occasional paparazzi and fans here and there as you make your way to the club. The entrance is packed with press and cameras. You walk into the barricaded lines. Weaving through people as you work your way closer to the door. Cameras flashing and people screaming. You wave at the flood of people and are barely catching what they’re screaming at you.

“Are you and Harry together?”

“How long have you been with Harry?”

“Is your next album about Harry?”

“Is Love on the Loose about Harry?” They scream in reference to your most recent single. You ignore the questions but your heart is racing. Did everyone think you were with him? That was your first public sighting together. Why would it be jumped all the way to 100 so fast? You glide your way through the clumps of people and straight to the bar. You order a very strong drink and try to look for familiar faces in the crowd but you don't see anyone you know well enough to approach.

You sip at your drink. Standing in a rather empty area of the club. Being relatively new to the music industry you don't know what to do or how to act among the A list musicians. People you grew up admiring and looking up to. So you sit and watch. You can then hear the screams and yelling of the fans and people outside over the pounding of the music. You can see the entrance as the man who caused such an earth shaking reaction from the people on the other side of the walls comes into the building. Of course it's Harry. You doubt they asked him about you because he's a man so he doesn't get tied down to questions as shallow as 'who are you dating and why he's still single.' You watches as he is stopped by troves of people shaking his hands and patting him on the back. His eyes scan the crowd jumping from person to person. Looking for someone or something. You settle back into the bar and find a seat on a tall stool. You turn to the sound of your name and see a recognizable face.

"Charlie!" you exclaim as you reach out to the man. His arms wrap around your back in a tight hug. He pulls back. He hops onto the stool next to you and you fall into nice conversation with the one and only Charlie Puth. The only other musician outside of your team that you have had the pleasure to work with.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here!" he yells. Trying to be heard over the bass pulsing through your bodies.

"I know! I usually stick to the Beverley Hills house parties but I thought this could be kinda fun to," You shrug. You take a long drink of your beverage while be talks.

"I don't usually come to these things! I like to go home and chill with a box of pizza after those shows," he shrugs. "But I figured I should have a bit of human interaction before I lock myself in my studio for a bit. Gotta make those deadlines," you smile at him as he talks.

"I get that, My manager likes to make sure I get seen. Need a little more exposure," you explain as you stir the ice cubes in your drink around. He nods along. "Especially with my next album coming out soon,"

"Yes!" he yells and smacks his hand down on the bar. "Are you gonna give me a sneak peak of that or do I have to wait with everyone else?" he smirks. His scarred eyebrow raised questioningly. You shake your head with a shy smile.

"You can come by the studio anytime. I always need another listening ear to help me out," the smile on his face gets bigger.

"I will count you to that," He then finally orders a drink and raises it to toast. "To you," he taps it against yours. "I have to go find some people but I'll see you around," he gives you a quick side hug and disappears into the sea of people.

"See you," you yell out to him and turn back to the bar. As you finish off your drink a shot glass full of an amber liquid is placed in front of you. You look to your right where the hand that placed the glass in front of you. Attached to that hand is Harry.

"Hey drinking buddy," He smiles. Lifting the shot up and gesturing for him to grab yours. The smile on your face so big you can already feel the ache in your cheeks.

"Hey four time Grammy winner," you greet him and slam the shot back. He drops himself into the stool next to you.

"Glad I found you. I was beginning to think you ditched me," he laughs. You respond with a shake of your head.

"I could never!" You play with the now empty shot glass in your hands. rolling it on its sides and spinning it around. He gestures to the bar tender for two more and looks at you. His cheeks rosy and pupils wide.

"Are you high Styles?" you ask with a laugh. His eyebrows shoot up he brings his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. You laugh with him until your stomach hurts. The alcohol in your system making the situation far funnier than it really is. As two more shots are placed in front of you Harry turns to grab one and your knees end up bumping. He looks down at your legs before he adjusts himself so your legs are slotted between his. The shimmery maroon suit almost the same color as your dress.

"We almost match," he looks at you proud.

"Almost," you laugh. He pushed your shot towards you and swallows his down quickly and you follow suit. "I think that's a good start," you laugh slamming the glass down onto the bar.

"So how was your first Grammys award show?" he asks. Squeezing your legs between his. Your body flushes at the simple contact.

"I had a lot of fun. It was amazing to see you wipe the floor!" he just smiles in response. Shaking his head shyly. "Seriously Harry that was amazing, I am so happy that I was there to experience it with you," you reach out to him and grab his hand from where it was laying in his lap. His hands fidgeting with his rings.

"Thank you," your name leaves his mouth with a sigh. "I really am happy that you were there with me. And Hey!" he looks at you with wide eyes. "Next year it will be you," he says with a mischief laugh.

"Whatever," you say jokingly and throw his hands back into his lap.

"No seriously. You're the next big thing. You're gonna fly past me and become the worlds biggest star. I just know it," His fingers finding your knee and rubbing back and forth comfortingly. You let out a shaky breath at the contact. His skin warm against your own.

"I don't think so Harry but I'm thankful. That you think I could do that," you reach out to his leg and run your finger along the scratchy fabric of his sparkling suit in the same pattern he is yours. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. Your breath is shallow and you can't seem to focus.

"I believe it," He whispers your name. "I know it, okay," he nods. He moves his hands up and grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger. Your heart skips. Then all you can hear is the blood pumping through your veins. "I can see it. In you. In your eyes. I can hear it. In your music. You are amazing," his eyes not leaving yours for a second. You blink slowly and tell yourself to breath. You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out. You don't know what to say. Your brain shut off. "I may be drunk," your heart stops. "But everything I said is completely true," he smiles. Your finger begins to draw shapes on his leg again.

"I really appreciate you Harry," is all you can get out.

"I mean it yea?" you nod. "I really do," he orders you more drinks and the two of you make it further back into the corner where the DJ booth and stage are. He had convinced you to do karaoke with him. Were they doing karaoke? No, No they were not.

"Harry how are we going to do karaoke when that's not an option they have ever had!" you yell at the back of his head as you wined through the people. His hand was grasping yours as you trailed behind him.

"Charm love!" He says as you approach the stage. "Good old British charm he says as he looks down at you. He takes a step or two up the stairs and begins to talk to the DJ. You can't quite hear what they're saying, but they are both smiling genuinely. After a few minutes they're eyes shoot down to you.

Harry looks steps up to the DJ booth and waves down the DJ.

"Hey man I love what you're doing up here!" he practically screams. "Really amazing!" The DJ nods along with his words.

"Thank you man! Thanks a lot!" He reaches over to shake Harrys hand. "I'm Jordan nice to meet you!"

"Harry pleased to meet you," he emphasizes the last word. He looks down at you. "You see that beautiful woman down there in that stunning red dress," he motions down to you. The DJ looks at you with a smile and nods.

"Yes sir," He nods at you.

"I would really love to serenade her," he laughs jokingly. "And I was wondering if you could help me out with that?" the DJ smiles even harder and nods.

"I'm sure I can work something out," he says as he reaches down and grabs a mic from the stand. Handing it over to Harry. Harry looks back at you and raises his eyebrows at you. Your jaw drops. "You know what you wanna sing man?" He asks Harry nods his head. Telling the DJ and dropping down to the floor with you.

His smile the biggest you've ever seen.

"You did it!" You exclaim. He then hands a mic to you. Raising the two mics as the music lulls. The DJ begins.

"For your listening pleasure for one night and one night only," he announces your name. "And Harry Styles!" You listen patiently. familiar melody plays over head. A smile bursts across your face. His eyes meet yours and he brings the mic up to his face.

"Don't go breaking my heart," Harrys voice floods the speakers. Reaching out grab your hand.

"I couldn't if I tried," you sing back at him. Swaying with him as he dances.

"Oh honey if I get restless," He raises your intertwined hands and spins you around.

"Baby you're not that kind," You flare out arms stretched.

"Don't go breaking my heart," The smile he has painted on his lips in enough to erupt a fire in your stomach.

"You take the weight off of me," you two continue dancing around each other.

"Oh honey when you knock on my door," He comes up closer to you.

"Ooh, I gave you my key," he smiles as he gets up in your face. You scrunch your nose and give him a joking glare. Still smiling. The night goes swimmingly. You sing quite a few more songs and drink a lot more drinks. Before the two of you find yourself heading out to your cars. Harry guiding you to your car. He motions for Philip to stay in the car while he opens your door for you. You try climb in without falling and succeed landing on the seat with a huff.

"Did you get my flowers?" He asks as you turn to him. Your breath halts in your throat.

"The flowers?" you asked. Shocked.

"Yeah, the roses?"

"Yeah I got the roses," He leans over and grabs the seat belts and moves to buckle you in. He smells of vanilla and alcohol. Maybe some weed too. "I hope they were good. I know you'd like something more colorful but I feel roses are more traditional," he shrugs as he drops himself down onto his feet again.

"I think they were perfect," Your cheeks hurt because of the permanent smile attached to your face. "You didn't leave your name?" you question him.

"I forgot," he laughs and steps back. Hand attaching to the door. "I had an amazing night tonight. It was, the best night I have had in a long time," You nod in agreement.

"Me too," your hands are playing with the latch on your clutch. "I think that we should do something like this sometime," you look up at him. He is shuffling his feet on the ground.

"I would like that," he says meekly. "And I know this wasn't technically a date but I'd really like to kiss you he says quietly as he steps closer to you. You widen your eyes and slowly nod your head. He smiles. "I wanna hear you say it please," he's so close you can feel his breath on your face. Fanning across your lips.

"I would like it very much if you would kiss me," you whisper back. Your voice almost inaudible. As the word kiss leaves your mouth he attaches his lips to yours. You reach out to grab him and you feel the seatbelt hold you back. His hands find your face and he pushes you back against the seat. You lose count of the seconds your bodies are meshed together. He pulls back and looks at you with a smile. His thumb moving to graze your lips.

"Have a good night Ms." he lets your last name fall off his lips. "I hope to see you soon yeah?" he grabs the door and starts to close it.

"Definitely," the door closes and you roll down the window. He waves at you as Philip pulls out of the parking by the street. You wave your hand at him an his comes up to the same.

"Soon!" he yells as you pull away.

"Yes!" you shout back. Closing up the window you look up at Philip.

"Home Ms?" He asks. A smirk on his face.

"Yes Philip. Home," you smile at him.

[aeferkssr]

serendipitous encounters. ━ if the stranger never meddled into your personal affairs, archons know where you would be right now.

‎‏‏ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎i. charas. lyney x gn!reader

ii. an. double uploads!?!!? thats crazy!!?! anyways i kinda rushed the end i hope its still okay tho ><

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏g ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎iii. cw. su!cide attempt, hum4n trafficin (mentioned vaguely), reader wears a dress, ooc lyney (???), hurt/comfort, angst. please tell me if there are more!

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏

the air on the balcony was cool, cool enough to calm you from the several interactions.

the breeze danced around the delicate fabrics of your dress, shoes being long disregarded as you stood on the railings. you whisper faint and final farewells to the very stars that keep you company on your lowest nights, the garden that you would hide away in when you needed some time alone, and to the very life that you have been blessed with.

you doubt you'd be able to live as lavishly in your next life, (you doubt you'll even remember this one, much less make a comparison) but you decided to let fate take the lead.

"you can feel the midnight air just fine from down here, i don't think the need for elevation is mandatory."

fate has got to be fucking with you right now. you didn't even look at him. you respond:

"you needn't worry about me, i'll be careful."

"really?" you could hear the skepticism in his tone. he leans over on the railing and looks up to the stars.

out the corner of your eye you could see the top hat atop his head, intricate designs softly illuminated by the light of the gala and the moon's luminescent rays. a black and maroon ribbon covers the base and is tied in an extravagant bow.

you huff as you look back to the sky, closing your eyes and slowly leaning forward.

well, since he was here, clearly he's entertained by your misery. might as well give him a show.

"what bring you to a fatui ball, stranger?"

archons be damned...

slightly annoyed, you look down to be met with violet eyes and a facial expression you couldn't describe. honest, but sly? guarded, yet vulnerable? who exactly was this guy?

without an answer, he continues:

"clearly you have to have some sort of authority, why lose it all here?"

you take a deep breathe, exhaling every ounce of courage you would of have to climb up in the first place. gently, you make your way down with the help of the stranger, or your savior in this matter.

he takes your hand in both of his as you steady yourself on the floor, he looks worried? interested? whoever this guy is, he's definitely hard to read.

he finally asks,

"excuse my prying, but, what would make someone like you give up?"

you sigh, "very trivial matters, i'm afraid. i'm just a coward running away from my problems"

"a matter worth taking your life over isn't trivial to me."

you stare at him, someone you met for the first time is more worried about you than he was. he's been with you all this time, yet you feel more understood by a total stranger.

you try to not meet his eyes as you told your story, holding his hand a little tighter.

"count blanchett of poisson, he's have many wives in his years. there has been rumors of the women he weds only serving as countess for a few months... until never being seen again."

you sniffle as you try to blink away the upcoming tears, you shouldn't be weak right now, you can't be weak right now.

"...i've told father about the rumors but he tells me i'm being dramatic, that there was nothing to worry about and that his past wives were just incompetent, and to never be like them..."

you can hear his stern voice boom throughout his office:

"all of those women simply went back to their homes. to add, they came back disastrous, unfulfilled, disappointments. that will not be you, understand?"

"the stress of the eldest always goes to the weakest" your voice starts to crack as tears flow down your face. "all of my other siblings are just lap dogs, only there as trophies of his blood..."

you finally look him in the eye,

"why did i have to be the disposable one?"

his mouth hands agape, he didn't know what to say, there was nothing he could say. you pour out your heart and soul through you tears, your hand tries to wipe them away but fail as the sheer amount of sadness that flows out.

he couldn't comfort you, but he could distract you. even if it was for a moment.

he takes your other hand and slowly walks into the grand ballroom. it glows with the warmth of chandeliers casting a soft, golden hue over the polished marble floor. the room is alive with the sounds of a live orchestra playing a mesmerizing waltz.

he brings you to the center of the floor and the music swells. he extends his hand towards you as you sniffle,

"don't be shy. you do know how to dance, right?" he teases as you take his hand with a small smile.

you two begin, moving in perfect harmony to the lilting rhythm of the waltz. the stranger leads with finesse, guiding you across the floor with effortless precision.

your bodies sway in sync, a mesmerizing spectacle of fluidity and grace. with every twirl and dip, you two seem to float on air, lost in the timeless allure of the dance. the world around you fades into a blur, leaving only the two of them in their own enchanting universe.

you can faintly see your silhouette through his eyes as he looks directly into yours.

"you're a good dancer." he speaks, breaking the silence between you both.

"i learnt from the best."

he pulls you closer to him, your chest flush against his as he whispers into your ear:

"lyney."

aeferkssr.

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

Hii!! 👋🏻 I just read the lee Han fic during their predut era and it's the cutest thing ever😫🥺 And it got me thinking, so the boys went to the met gala right and they looked super nervous, esp. Seungmin and Chan. And then I saw those jerk photographers comments and I had a thought. 🤭😙What if after the event, when the boys go back to their hotel rooms to rest, they sort of finish their night time routines and just gather in one room and then everyone sort of has a tickle fight to sorta get rid of the nerves and lift the mood. And like what if they all go crazy and just tire eo out and play games and have snacks and pillow fights and stuff and end up sleeping in a big pile together 🤭🥰 I really love your writing style and did love it of you could write something with this but it's okay if you don't want to as well. Hope you have a great day/afternoon/night Sana❤️❤️

Also can I please be 😛 anon? Or 🐰or 🪼?

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙖 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙝:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.1k

𝙖/𝙣: i put two random members for the header okay, also the photographers at the met gala what the actually fuck it made me so angry 😡

𝙩/𝙬: swearing, rough tickling, I WROTE THIS LIKE TWO HOURS AFTER THE REQUEST FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES

𝒍𝒆𝒆: skz

𝙡𝙚𝙧: skz

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s 🐾

“Those photographers were fucking jerks!!” Felix growled, shaking his head in disapproval.

Everyone watched in fear; it wasn’t often their brownie boy was upset. 

“Calm down, Lixie. I think we just need to rest.” Chan sighed, Felix sighing before setting his coat on the couch of thier private hotel room. 

Everyone filed into a line to place their coats gently over each other, throwing off their gala outfits and replacing them with tees and tank tops. 

Changbin sighed. “Finally, these are way more comfy. I loved our outfits, though.” 

Seungmin nodded in agreement. “I feel so stiff and upset about those photographers, though.” He grumbled. 

Jisung nodded, pulling his shirt on. “I hated it. They were so rude. Emma was nice, though.” He smiled, and everyone began to talk and laugh. 

After eating, Chan pounced on Seungmin on the bed. “Stop being so upset. I’ll cheer you up!!” Followed by fingers slipping under his shirt and into his belly button, earning a loud shriek from Minnie before loud laughter filled the room. 

“AHHAAAHAAA!! HYUHUHUNG!! DOHOHONT!!” Seungmin whined, twisting around with a wide grin on his face. 

“But we should.” Minho replied with a fond smile, leaning over to blow raspberries onto Seungmin’s neck, causing the vocalist to scream and thrash crazily. 

“You shouldn’t be talking!” Jeongin announced bravely, pulling Chan off of Seungmin and digging into his hips immediately, causing Channie to bark out a laugh. 

Of course, Chan was stubborn and kept his lips shut, trying to keep himself from laughing. 

His strength was zapped from the effort, making it so much more easy for Hyunjin to pin him down. 

Seungmin was still laughing crazily as Minho blew raspberries onto his belly, Jisung and Changbin helping to hold down the thrashing vocalist. 

“Tell us your worst spot and this will be easier, hyung!” Innie grunted, slipping his hands underneath Channie’s shirt to tickle at his sides. 

Then the dam broke. 

“Jackpot!” Jeonginnie crowed happily as Chan shrieked and burst into loud, uncontrollable, crackly laughter. 

“NOHOHOHOO!! AHHH AGHAH AHH STOPPP AHAAAHAHAAA!!” Channie screeched desperately, suddenly whipping his head around when he heard a high-pitched squeal. 

Hyunjin screamed dramatically as Minho found his next target, taking a deep breath before finding the ferret’s sides, blowing out as hard as he could. 

“STAHAHAHAHA—!!” Hyune begged desperately, cackles pouring out of him in an uncontrollable rate. “AHHAAAHHAAHHA!!”

Jeongin finally let up on Chan, causing the leader to jump onto Jisung, pulling him off of Hyunjin.

Felix attacked Innie’s side promptly, causing the maknae to dissolve into a puddle of messy giggles. 

“Wahahait! Hyuhung—AH!!” He squealed and fell desperately back into Felix’s arms, the small raspberries on his neck making his laugh squeaky and cute. 

Minho immediately realized the next target and left a limp Hyunjin to recover on the bed. 

“HAAHAHAHAHA!! WHY AHAM IHI BEHEHEING GAHAHAHANGED UP ON?! CHEHEHEATERS THIHIS IS SO UHUHUNFAIR!!” Jisung could barely get his words out, three pair of heads (Chan, Minho, Seungmin) pushed into his belly and blew the most torturous raspberries he had ever felt onto his tummy. 

Hannie screamed desperately as more heads joined, sending him ballistic. “STAHAHAHAHAP OHOHO MY GAHAHAHAD!!” He shrieked. 

Jisung managed to get the strength to push his fingers right into Minho’s belly button, causing the dancer to jolt aggressively and squeal, causing half the group to pile onto him and reduce him to a laughing puddle of hysterics. “AH!! HAHAHAHA GUHUHUYS AHH!!” Minho screamed. 

“AHHHH AHHAHAHAHAA!! STAHAHAHAP NOHOT MEHEHE!!” He shrieked when Changbin pushed his head onto his v-line, blowing out as hard as he could. 

Minho scratched and slammed at Binnie’s shoulders and back, screams clawing their way out of his throat one by one. 

Minho slipped his hands around and found the edge of Changbin’s shirt, slipping his hands up and drilling into the rapper’s ribs as fast as he could, leaving Changbin’s eyes to widen in surprise before a loud scream filled the room. 

Binnie fell over immediately in a fit of ticklishness, hands fighting with Minho’s as the older got onto his lap, hands still scribbling everywhere under his shirt. 

”EHEHEHAHAHAHA!!“ Changbin screeched, kicking around and screaming when Minho gained his strength back and threw his shirt up, pressing his lips to the small pudge on Binnie’s tummy. 

”You ready, Bunny?“ Minho didn’t even let the rapper respond before blowing a buzzing raspberry onto the sensitive spot. 

“NO!! NOHOHO NO NAHAHAH NOHOT THEHERE PLEHEHEHEASE!!” Changbin was hysterical immediately. 

“Oh? This spot gets you begging in no time!” Minho exclaimed, leaning back down and blowing raspberry after raspberry, causing tears of mirth to slip down the rapper’s red cheeks. 

Meanwhile, Chan narrowed his eyes, catching a certain brownie boy trying to escape the situation by hiding behind Hyunjin, who was the least likely to attack him. 

“STAHAHAHAHAP!! HYUHUHUHUHUNG!!” Changbin’s screams echoed through the room as Chan chased after Felix, the brownie boy’s squeals lost over the black-haired rapper’s howls of laughter. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE!!—I cahant!! I CAHANT HYUNG NO!!” Binnie managed to pull Minho’s head up for a few seconds, but the dancer was merciless, latching onto the boy’s belly like glue. 

“NOHOHO NONO!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASEEAAHHAHAHA!!” Changbin let out a howled bout of exhausted laughter, cackles pouring out of him endlessly. 

Chan managed to pin Felix and slip a finger into his belly button just as Minho let up on Binnie’s pudge, the rapper slumping underneath him in exhaustion. 

“WAHAHAHAHAIT!!” 

Even Binnie’s head turned at the screech Felix let out, grabbing at Chan’s wrists as the leader dug into his clothed side. 

His thin shirt offered very little protection, not that it mattered considering the black-haired menace was pulling up at it to get the sensitive skin. 

“Hyung…DOONT!!” Felix screeched as Chan ducked his head near his belly button. 

“Everybody got raspberries today, except you. I’ll fix that!” Chan giggled, blowing out into the little button, causing Felix to let out an ungodly scream before descending into the loudest laughter Chan had ever heard from him. 

“STAHAHAHAP!! YOUHURE SO MEHEHEHEHEAN!!” Felix whined, bucking up with a desperate cry when another raspberry made its way to his side. 

“OKAHAY OKAHAHAY!! CHRIHIS PLEASE!!” Felix finally gave in, slumping under the leader and drumming his heels into the floor, throwing his head back and laughing and laughing. 

“Okay, okay. Big baby.” Chan laughed, everyone breathing heavily for air. Binnie fell off the bed and onto the pile of giggly men on the floor. 

Minho rocked the bunny to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in his ear while the others snored softly. 

Their backs aching the next morning was either because of their sleeping spot on the floor or from the aggressive wrestling coming with the tickling. 

Or it’s because Chan’s old now—

LMAOO