#Dick: (in tears) i got such a BORING brother

[fanaticalthings]

Broke: "Dick Grayson was upset at a new kid taking over his mantle because he doesn't think Jason will be good enough as Robin"

Woke: "Dick is upset at Jason, not because he's suddenly taking over the mantle he created, but because Jason isn't nearly feral enough of a child to drive Bruce insane in Dick's place"

Dick: You wanna be my successor? Go swing from that chandelier right now.

Jason:

Dick: As a matter of fact, I need to see you crawling all over the walls. Make a ruckus, break some furniture

Jason: But Bruce-

Dick: SCREW Bruce. Your job as my new brother is to make his life HELL. Why are you so polite? Why are you so calm? Where's your DRIVE, your PASSION, huh? You may be worthy of the title of Robin, but are you WORTHY of being my disaster brother?

Jason, a little scared: I dont-

Dick, scoffing: The youth these days just don't rebel like they used to.

[evie-sturns]

𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 - 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

summary: you've been pissing chris off all day, accidentally knocking his stuff over, purposely teasing him in public, to the point where he starts to get seriously mad at you to the point where he has to put you in your place.

warnings: smut, rough!chris, use of safe word, argument, swearing.

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I didn't know that what i was doing was affecting chris this much, I mean, today has just been like any other. I hung out with my boyfriend of 2 months, chris, the whole day with his brothers and friends.

he seem's to be extra on edge today, ever since i broke one of his cologne bottles.

(flashback)

hey chris, im just gonna head downstairs- SMASH

"oh fuck i'm so sorry i'll clean that up now-" i said, getting on my hands and knees and collecting the shards of black glass. "y/n just go downstairs, get out of my room please." chris spoke, glaring down at me. "i'm so sorry chris, i can buy you anothe-" i was cut off by him picking me up and placing me outside of his bedroom.

(present)

me, chris, nathan, nick and matt are sitting on the sturniolos couch as the sun sets through the window to our right, a dim light fills the living room as matt and nick have an argument, god knows what its about.

im cudding up to chris's side, my leg resting over his thigh as he scrolls on his phone aimlessly. ive been sitting here for about an hour, i think chris is still pissed about the cologne bottle incident. i hate to admit it, but chris when hes mad is the hottest version of him.

i move my leg from his thigh up to his lap, using my leg to rub him very softly through his sweatpants. he grabs my leg, pushing it off him "stop that." he whispers, shaking his head at me. "stop what?" i ask, a guilty smile tugging at the corners of my lips as i move my leg back to its original position, applying more pressure on his crotch.

right before he's about to grab my leg again nathan starts - "whos up for top golf!" he says, looking around the room with a smile on his face. "nate its late." matt speaks, leaning back against the couch.

"so you're boring?" nate tuts.

"fine, only if the others go though." nick says, standing up off the couch. "chris, y/n?" he says, looking at us.

im about to agree but chris answers for me "were staying here." he says, his tone angry.

i look at chris with a confused look, but hes back to scrolling on his phone. "well me, matt and nate are going, we'll be a few hours." nick says, grabbing his coat and phone.

matt and nathan follow nick out the door, giving me and chris a small wave before slamming the front door shut.

chris stands up, leaving me on the couch, he faces me "what the fuck is wrong with you!" he yells. "what?" i say defensively, moving back against the couch, my eyes widening from the sudden raise of his voice.

"what!!??" he mocks, before starting

"this whole day you've been on my last nerve, and I'm sick of it. You've ruined half the shit in my room then you start touching up on my dick in front of my brothers?"

my jaw is slack, in pure shock as he flames me, i can't help my attitude start to build up, i scoff "not my fault you've been sensitive and pissy all day, sorry that im clumsy today?" i bite back, rolling my eyes.

chris stares at me "you have no respect for any of my shit, youve gone and shattered my $450 cologne that nick got me and you expect me to be happy? pathetic." he yells.

a few tears drop from my eyes, i don't know why. his words aren't hurting me but he knows i can't deal with people yelling at me. my attitude keeps up though "if you're gonna be so sensitive go cry in your room christopher." i fold my arms.

chris storms out of the living room, slamming the door to the bathroom shut.

i wipe my eyes before standing up, running upstairs into chris's room. its already been decided that im staying the night here by nick, so i decide to get into my pyjamas.

i pull my shirt off over my head, revealing my white lacy bra which i especially wore for chris, i was expecting a different evening with us.

suddenly i hear the bedroom door open behind me, chris storms in before walking up to me, i swing my body around to look at him. he grabs me by my throat, i gasp loudly as he grabs me, throwing me down on the mattress.

i sink my teeth into my bottom lip as i look up at him, before pulling him down into an angry kiss. he pulls away, ripping off his shirt. "built up a bit of an attitude today haven't you?" he mumbles, yanking my shorts and panties off in one motion.

he reaches a hand under me onto my back, flipping me over onto my stomach.

he grabs my ankles, forcing me onto all fours. i whine, desperatly. "so needy aren't you." he says, yanking down his sweatpants. i look over my shoulder at him.

"hand behind your back." he demands, putting his hand out. i put my hands behind my back, chris grabs both of my wrists with one hand. holding them, forcing me to arch.

"chirs.." i groan, squirming slightly, his hand collides with my clit. "fuck!" i yelp, chris shushes me "why do you think you deserve my dick after giving me such an attitude today hm?"

he lines himself up with me, pulling my wrists closer to him, my chest and head are fully off the bed as my back arches more then i knew it ever could.

without warning her slams into me, i let out a loud cry from the sudden stretch. "dont. make. a noise." he says, slamming into me at a brutal pace. i let out pathetic whimpers as i'm held in place by him.

he reaches his spare hand round, shoving two fingers in my mouth.

chris has never been like this in bed, im in total shock as he fucks the attitude out of me.

without warning i clench around him, releasing the knot in my stomach. his thrusts don't slow, i wouldn't be wrong if i said they quickened.

im so sensitive, my vision blurry as he takes what he needs from me.

we've had a safe word established for a while, we made it while we were in a stupid mood, so it has a stupid name. 'dinosaur' , but ive never even thought about using it until now.

"chris.. chris chris." i groan, tears streaming down my face from the intensity. "fuck- d-dinosaur" i cry out, chris stops thrusting instantly, checking to see if he heard right.

"dinosaur.." i whisper.

chris pulls out instantly, he gently releases the painful grip on my wrists, as he collapses down next to me, sitting on the bed, pulling me onto his lap in a cradling me.

"hey hey.. don't cry sweetheart." he whispers into my hair, grabbing his shirt and pulling it onto me. "are you alright baby? too much?" he coos, rubbing my arms. "please speak to me gorgeous."

i nod into his chest, "im fine, just sensitive.." i stammer.

"oh okay i'm so sorry" he says, pure guilt in his voice as he stands up, holding me like a bride.

suddenly i let out a small laugh, he looks down, confusion painted across his face.

"wait.. whats funny?" he questions

"what were we thinking when we came up with that safeword." i laugh into his chest.

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this might be my last fic for a few days cause school is starting up tomorrow.

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[gilverrwrites]

Dick being a bit of a perv towards Tim’s friend…you and Tim obviously have crushes on another, but Dick subtly convinces you that it’s unrequited, that Tim is turned off by how naive you clearly are…unless you want Dick to teach you some things, he’s be more than happy to *do it*…of course his hands are already creeping down your pants as he says this.

What?! Anon you're crazy. Dickie would never ever do something like this! Anyway... Warnings: Coercion, manipulation, choking, slut shaming, implied age gap Virgin!Reader.

The very first time he met you; Dick made it his mission to ensure he was your favourite member of the family. He’s often the first to invite you to events. He’s always cutting in at galas, much to Tim’s chagrin, and telling you how great you look. Not just the fancy stuff either, he showers you with compliments all the time. He just loves your cosy hoodie, and did you get a haircut? It looks great.

Sometimes he’ll make a show of staring at you, all starry-eyed as he says shit like “Wow. You really are just sooo beautiful. Tim’s a lucky guy.” Knowing full well Tim and you are not an item.

“If only I’d got there first.” Knowing that his comments will almost certainly embarrass Tim.

“What did Tim do to deserve you, anyway?” That the embarrassment is liable to make Tim push you away a little bit.

But it’s not all flirtation. Dick also asks about your life, your friends and family. He learns about your hobbies, and watches your favourite films so he can talk to you about them. He's always offering advice, warranted or not. He just wants to be ‘the best soon-to-be brother-in-law’, you know?

So, he's unsurprised and elated when you call him one night, on the brink of tears after seeing Tim on what looked like a date with someone else. “I feel so weird calling you since you're brothers but you're the only one who knows us both.”

“No, no, no. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me. You can always come to me for anything! Why don't I come over?”

Half an hour later he's on your couch, listening to you lament about your hopeless crush on Tim. He pats your shoulders, and rubs your back throughout, subtly getting closer and closer until you're all but sat in his lap with his hand dangerously high up your thigh.

“Listen, Tim is my brother, and I love him, I do. And I don't believe in slut shaming, that's not what this is, but he does get around. A lot.” He catches a stray tear with his thumb. You don't move when he lingers, so he keeps shooting, caressing your cheek until he reaches your lips where he grazes their softness far longer than is appropriate. His cock is rock hard from cradling you, there's no way you haven't noticed it digging into your asscheek. You can't be that dumb? “I shouldn't say this, it’s not my place but you deserve to know. He’s a cheater. He's cheated in almost every relationship he's been in. I think he gets bored… Sexually.”

He hadn’t thought you could look any sadder, but you managed it. He almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should be fine though. You know what you're doing, right? No? That's crazy, you're so lovely.”

It takes a little persuasion, but it's cursory more than anything.

“Tim doesn't need to know; it’ll be our little secret.” He promises as he slides his fingers under your waistband.

That night he makes it all about you. He practically spoils you, never using anything but his hands and mouth to make you melt for him, over and over. It takes all his resolve not to kiss you stupid, only because you make such captivating sounds. Such moreish whimpers and moans. For his ears only.

He’s the worst brother in the world.

But that doesn’t stop him from calling you every chance he gets.

He knows he’s going to hell when he’s filled with a sick sense of pride, after dropping you off for a coffee date with Tim, having cum all over your tongue only moments earlier and driven you there with his hand practically lodged between your legs.

Sometimes he fantasises about sucking his name into your chest. Just so Tim will know exactly where you've been if he ever has the balls to close the deal.

But the veneer can only last so long, and you unknowingly chip away at it, bit by bit every time you say Tim’s name. “Do you think Tim would like this?” “I can't believe I'm asking but do you know if Tim…” “Oh, I can’t tonight, Tim and I…”

It finally shatters the first time he fucks you though. You take it so well, slowly letting him stretch out your tight, virgin hole. He barely even has to coach you through it, just a few sweet words of praise, his fingers brushing you in all the right places and your bouncing on his cock like it was made for you.

But then you go and spoil it. He barely even remembers what you said exactly. “Something, something, Tim.” and he's seeing red.

The next thing out of your mouth is a startled gasp as he fixes his hand around your throat and squeezes, pulling you close and pushing his length so deep inside that your eyes roll back as he spits; “Tim doesn't want you.”

You're like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and confused but still moaning like a slut as he ruts up into you. “He did, but do you really think he'd ever touch you now? When he finds out you've been hanging off his big brother's dick? Should of taken photos so he can see how bad you wanted it.”

“But- but you said-”

“I know what I said.” You look the most aggrieved when he cuts you off. Never in a million years did you think golden boy Dick Grayson would be so callous. “And you bought it all. God- you’re too easy.”

He trails off for a moment, getting lost in how fucking good you feel, walls tight and twitching around him, milking him a little bit more every time he pinches your throat or bites out another nasty comment. All this time he’s been so nice to you; he should have known you’d like him mean.   

“Fucking shit~ I was never gonna let Tim have you. You were mine the moment you walked into the manor.”

━ [Continuation]

[sturnlova]

Matt’s long john (M.S)

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, breeding kink and other ones, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

—————————————————————————

“Next up, we have Matt’s long john” Chris bursted out laughing due to matt’s stunned reaction to Chris’ words.

Me and Nick where in the background as Nick said in a frightened voice “ why would you ever say that” i giggled as i walked past Matt and whispered in his ear “ am i gonna get proof?” Matts ears and checks turned pink due to my words, i just walked away and sat on chair next to Nick waiting for the next donuts.

Time skip

Nick was fast asleep and i was just facing his back on my phone scrolling through TikTok until i got a snap for Matt, it’s not like it was weird for us to text but we didn’t really text on snapchat as i barely used it.

I opened the snap to be shown with a 8 and a half dick with a pink tip and a vein running down the side with matt’s hand holding it, and the text reading “ here’s ya proof” i could hear the Boston accent through the text.

I was still in a state of shock but snapped out of it to slowly make my way to Matt’s room.

I got out of Nick’s room silently and went to Matt’s room forgetting i had the tiniest shorts and a Calvin klein bra.

As i was about to open the door it swung open before my eyes to be meet with matt with dangerously low plaid pants showing his v-line and a happy trail along with no top on.

He grabbed me the waist and kissed me passionately, i started clenching my thigh to attempt to get rid of the growing heat between my thighs.

Matt noticed this and asked me if it was okay to remove my bottoms “ it’s okay Matty, remove my bra well you’re at it, don’t forgot your pants to” Matt removed all of our clothes and threw it somewhere in his room.

He kicked the door closed with his foot and placed me on the bed, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and started fingering me as he whispered praises in my ear.

I just moaned in response, but i needed more than his fingers, “ Matt please fuck me i need it.” and with that Matt added his length to my tight hole stretching me out.

He gave me 30 seconds to adjust but it was definitely not enough time as he started pounding into me” FUCK MATT SHIT YOURE SO BIG, FUCK I DONT KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT” i moaned insanely loud as he cut me off with his fingers that were once in me.

Nick called me, Matt saw this and made me answer the phone to talk to Nick.

“ Y/N are you in Matt’s room FUCKING him?”

Matt continued thrusting in me even though i was on call with his brother.

“ no nick i’m- i’m ju-just in his room .. bec- because you were sleeping and i go- got b.. bored.”

“Ok?? Are you ok you’re stuttering a lot?”

“ I’m o-okay i’m just not really focused, we are w-watching a sh-show”

“Ok well come back soon i still need a cuddle buddy.”

and with that i threw my phone across the room.

“ Good girl, lying to him just for you can get fucked by me, nearly got caught with the way you stuttered. Am i fucking you dumb ma?” “ yes fuck Matt you are.”

He kept on ramming into me, it was a speed i didn’t even know was possible, with every thrust hitting my g-spot i must’ve had 3 orgasms.

He licked the tears that feel from my eyes, and stated “ pretty girl can i fuck my babies in you? make you carry a mini me? you gonna let me fill you up?” He started whimpering as his thrust got slower and i was fucked dumb to the point i was barely able to respond, so i just silently moaned yes in response hoping he heard.

He released in me mixing both of our fluids together as i also came undone underneath him.

As he pulled out our juices started coming out but that didn’t last long since he pushed it back in my sensitive hole making me moan.

“Can’t waste any of it”

Matt carried me to the bathroom and placed me down on the toilet to pee, after i did my business he cleaned me and asked if i wanted a shower “ no thanks i can’t stand i’ll have one in the morning” “ Ok Y/N will you sleep with me tonight?” “of course i will Matt”

Matt changed the bedsheets and put me in his over sized top and some boxers, he put his boxers and pants back on as we laid in bed together to drift asleep.

We were interrupted by Nick coming in “ Y/N i get it you and Matt fuck now but i still need my cuddle buddy, also keep the fuck down kid.”

[countryclubkook]

I’m Your Step Brother

Pairing: stepbro!Rafe x reader

Warnings: smut, this is a lot darker than anything i’ve ever written so if this isn’t your style do not read, dark dom rafe, rafe is an unhinged dick, dub con, rafe is high, reader is implied to be a bit tipsy but not drunk, face slapping, choking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), name calling (bitch, slut, whore, cunt, worthless, pathetic), blackmail, reader is a cam girl, masturbation (f receiving), hair pulling, please let me know if i missed any!

Summary: When your step brother lets you stay with him for college for free after your mom and step father kick you out, you’re extremely grateful. But when he finds out about your little side job, he decides you have to start repaying him in a different way

A/N: I know this isn’t Rafe, but this is how I picture my stepbro!Rafe and he’s hot in this so it works. Rafe is 21, reader is 20

It all happened so fast. One minute Rafe was offering you drinks, a ‘special occasion’ he said. Then the next you were stumbling into bed and his hand was wrapped around your throat. He told you how he graciously allowed you to live with him while you finished college when your mom and Ward kicked you out of Tanneyhill. Let you use his wifi, his running water, eat his food, and that you were repaying him for his generosity by whoring yourself out online for cash. His dilated pupils and the white residue on his nose let you know he was high, and he was even more unhinged when he was.

Your whines of protest for him to let go were shut down, the grip on your throat only tightening the more you struggled.

“Keep struggling and my hand will grip this pretty little throat tighter and tighter until you go blue in the face bitch. I’ve seen you wrap your hand around your throat in your little videos, drop the innocence act. It’s fucking boring” he told you, his voice eerily calm at the threat.

You felt your face heat up at the confession that he’d seen your videos. As in plural, more than one video of you fucking yourself in various ways with various items. He snapped you out of your thoughts with a harsh slap to your cheek, the other one receiving the same treatment before he grabbed your face roughly and forced you to look at him.

“Ohh, I know what it is, your messy cunt is usually on full display when you choke yourself. Go ahead and take your shorts off, give your big brother his own private show” you were told only once to do so and when you didn’t immediately follow orders, he slapped you once again with much more force and pulled them off himself. Once they were discarded somewhere in the room, he let out a low whistle when he noticed you had no panties on.

“Damn. I knew you were a dirty slut, but at least pretend that you have some decency left. Or did you want this? Wanted your big brother to come in here and fuck you, I mean with the skanky outfits you wear around the house all the time I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re so fucked up sis” the tears you had been trying to hold back finally started streaming down your face, the small sniffles catching Rafe’s attention.

“God you’re such a pathetic bitch. Crying from my words even though I’ve seen the same things said to you over and over again on your page and your response is always so positive, so eager to be used. ‘Thank you daddy, I'm such a pathetic and needy whore for you. Use my body however you want’ don’t act like you don’t want it now. Your pussy is leaking all over the bed as we speak” his eyes glued to the wet spot you’d made

You let out a loud sob while trying to close your legs, but they were harshly pushed apart again by Rafe. His fingertips digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, his eyes staring at your pussy.

“Please, just leave” he didn’t. He stayed right where he was, if anything he got closer.

“Nah, see you’re sitting here crying and begging me to leave, but the way you’re fucking soaking the sheets right now and the amount of times your eyes have glanced at my cock makes it hard to believe you don’t want me here. Now take those pretty hands and start rubbing your needy clit for me” a few seconds went by and your hands remained still by your sides.

“Now! God you’re such a dumb cunt. Bet if I pulled out a few singles and threw them at you, you’d be bringing yourself to an orgasm right about now” his hand grabbed yours and brought it against your clit, watching as you slowly started circling it with your fingers.

You let out a small whimper, this was so fucking wrong but god it felt so good. Trying your best to go slow in hopes of making him satisfied enough to leave was a lot easier said than done, his lustful gaze burning holes into you wasn’t helping at all. Neither were his abs being on full display or the very obvious outline of his large cock in his sweatpants. ‘He’s your step brother’ you reminded yourself over and over again, but here you were rubbing your clit in front of him.

“Stick two fingers inside yourself and start pounding that pretty pussy, I know you’re wet enough” his statement brought a new wave of shame over you. You shouldn’t want to be doing this, shouldn’t be enjoying it at all which only caused more tears to fall down your face.

“You know” he took in a deep breath, agitation all over his face “i’m getting really fucking sick of this crying bullshit. I’ll do it myself”

He collected some of the wetness before sliding his middle and ring fingers inside your dripping hole, curling them up and hitting the perfect spot inside you. You threw your head back onto the pillow and tried to hide your loud moans so he didn’t hear, but of course he heard.

“I’m your step brother you twisted slut, why are you so wet right now huh?” he slapped your cheek when he got no response again and raised his voice “Huh? Answer me you fucking whore!”

You tried to stammer out an answer, but no words came out. Just broken whimpers and moans as his fingers picked up their tempo. Suddenly he stopped, pulling his hand away and walking so he was beside your head. He pulled his sweatpants off, his cock springing out, and placed it on your lips.

“Suck” your eyes went wide as you shook your head no.

His jaw clenched before a dark smirk appeared, his fingers sliding back into you and pounding your tight hole harshly. Your mouth opened wide due to the loud moan you let out which caused Rafe to take advantage and slide his cock all the way down your throat. A low groan escaping his lips at the way you gagged around him and clenched around his fingers. Your hips started bucking into his hand, your moans sending vibrations around his cock as you got closer to coming.

“Your step brother is fucking your face! Did you hear me? Your step brother is fucking your face and the only thing your slutty little bitch brain can think about is coming. Fucking pathetic” Rafe spoke as he harshly grabbed your hair and held you against him, his cock all the way in the back of your throat as you gagged and tried gasping for air.

“I know you want it, can fucking feel you squeezing my fingers so damn tight. make a mess on your big brother's fingers. Go on. Do it do it do it. Fucking whore!” your eyes rolled back into your head as your body convulsed, your orgasm completely taking over. You could feel the liquid gushing all over the place and knew you had just made a giant mess, and only because it was Rafe.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth when you finally came down from your high and stroked himself until thick ropes of cum coated your face. It was a filthy sight, you had drool running down your chin, mascara smudged, cum dripping down your face, and your hair was a mess. That’s when Rafe decided to grab your phone and take a photo. You looked up at him confused and slightly alarmed as to why the hell he just did that.

“Oh, don’t worry,” his hand moved to stroke your hair before gripping it harshly and pulling you up so his lips were right by your ear.

“I’m just letting all those sick fucks know that my baby sister isn’t available to whore around anymore, I own you and your pussy now. You are nothing without me bitch” but you knew there was another reason.

Blackmail.

He had you right where he wanted you, he was holding something over you that could ruin your life for good. Get you kicked out of college and become an outcast in OBX. All you had to do in order for none of that to happen was exactly what he said, when he said it, no matter what it was.

That included taking his cock in the back of your throat like the good little two-bit whore you are.

You were tossed back onto the bed and watched Rafe pull his sweats back on before walking to your bedroom door to leave. He turned around to look at you once more and left you with a few parting words.

“You should probably shower, make yourself look presentable again. I’ll let you know when dinners done you worthless slut.” he stepped out before turning around again.

“Oh! Just remember what I said you know, about owning your holes and what not. You really are nothing if you don’t have me, so don’t be a bitch about this or tell anyone yeah?” he winked at you and walked to the kitchen to begin dinner, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your brain going back and forth between knowing it was wrong, Rafe was literally your step brother, and wondering what the fuck just happened and why you shamefully wanted it to happen again?

[themultifandomgal]

Hey I got a request for peaky blinders

So basically tommy is a single dad to a girl she is 2 years old and you got you was I’ll and tommy was in a meeting and you was bored she u walk. In and tommy yelled at you So you run off and started crying you find John and Arthur and told they what happened how u was I’ll and they find tommy to tell him he was a dick about yelling at you then he told u he was sorry

Hope that make sense x

Tommy Shelby- Just Want To Protect You

I hope this is what you wanted.

YN and Tommy haven’t been dating all that long, she knew he was a single dad and his daughter, Mary, came first no matter what. YN also knew that he was a dangerous man, but she didn’t care. To her Tommy was a caring man who loved his family (even if he didn’t show it), all he wanted to do was keep YN and his daughter safe.

Unfortunately Mary had been ill with a cold the last week so while Tommy was in meetings YN would take on the roll of looking after her, however today YN woke up feeling rough. She has a headache, stuffy nose and scratchy throat, but still being a mother figure to the young girl YN takes on the task of looking after her and and house while Tommy is in his office working.

“I want daddy”

“I know” YN replies bouncing the crying girl in her arms “but daddy is busy. Why don’t you take a nap. You might feel better and when you wake up, daddy might be finished”

“Ok” Mary sniffles snuggling into YN’s neck. YN takes Mary to her bedroom and puts her down. She stays with Mary until she’s asleep. Feeling rough herself she decides to go and have a nap herself, however due to her blocked nose and now cough, YN gives up after half an hour.

Making her way down stairs she decides to make herself and Tommy a cup of tea. Feeling bored YN knocks on Tommys office door before walking in

“Hi love, I made you a drink” YN says walking in placing the tea on his desk, Tommy just grunts in response “Mary is asleep, still has this awful cold. I said maybe once she wakes up you’d be finished with work”

“And why would you tell her that?” Tommy looks up to YN

“I just thought that you could have a break, you can sit in your chair and work all the time. Mary misses you”

“I can’t just stop working because Mary wants me to”

“I’m not saying that. You’ve been in here since 6 this morning. It’s now 1 and you’ve not had a break or anything to eat”

“I can’t”

“Fine. Guess I’ll be looking after your sick child all day again”

“I didn’t ask you to”

“Then who will? Your to busy with you fucking businesses to even notice that she’s been crying for you this morning”

“Don’t you swear at me!” Tommy yells standing up “Mary isn’t even your daughter so if she’s so much of a bother why don’t you just go!” Feeling taken back YN takes in what Tommy just said

“Fine” YN replies keeping her tears back.

Asking one of the maids to keep an eye on Mary, YN leaves the house and makes her way to the Garrison where she sees Arthur and John

“YN” John waves his brothers girlfriend over

“Hi” she sadly says

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s our brother done this time?” Arthur sighs

“It’s just that, I don’t feel well but ive been taking care of his daughter who’s also ill. When I told him to have a break from work he just blew up”

“Our brother is an idiot YN, I’ll speak with him” John replies

“No don’t. He will know I’ve spoken to you and he will probably have a fit. I’m gonna get a drink”

That evening YN sits her home with a book in her hands, when there is a knock at her door. Putting her book down she heads over feeling confused to who could be at her front door. Opening it up there is Tommy holding flowers in his hands

“I’m a dick I know. I’m sorry”

“You better come in” YN opens up her door wider so Tommy could enter “where’s Mary?”

“At home. Ada has her. I know I shouldn’t have shouted at you, your ill and been looking after my daughter. You didn’t have to but you did. I just get so scared when it comes to you and Mary. I just want to keep you safe and we have a problem with the business. I didn’t want you involved, I didn’t want to worry you”

“Tom, I’m your girlfriend. If we want this to work you can’t shut me out”

“I know I know. Arthur and John knocked some sense into me. Let me make it up to you. Let me cook supper for you. Treat you like a queen”

“I’d like that” YN smiles.

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

[thatwritterbeach]

one messed up bat .6

Dc masterlist

batfam x reader x jason

Summary: a relapse, some comforting words and breakfast that doesn't go to plan

Warnings: sa, talk of assault, self harm, self hate, semi-comfort, dissociation kind of a long episode, self harm during said episode, mention of vomit vague, anxiety attack, panic, blood, eating disorder (none, restrictive or compulsive, meal tracking)

A/N: I do not own dc boo hoo

It was their fault really. I mean they were supposed to be watching her, Jason was supposed to be sharing a bed with her. It's hardly her fault that upon waking up alone from one of the worst nightmares she'd ever had her first thought was an old comfortable habit. And that my dear friend is how she found herself curled up on the bathroom floor, the door locked, and a pocket knife she didn't remember stashing clutched in a shaky hand. She should call for help, should put in the minimal effort of simply sending an sos text. Two words, sos bathroom, not that hard. Certainly easier than standing and walking through the halls in search of somebody. She figured a few of them were out on patrol and had hoped at least Jason would be home, but she knew he could only be cooped up for so long and he probably assumed one of the others would stay with her. Maybe they expected Damian to keep her company. No matter, there wasn't anybody here and if she didn't do something she was gonna pass out from a panic attack so oh well.

"Just one," she promised herself quietly before fumbling to get her pants off while she was still sitting. (hard to write angsty y'all with why'd you only call me when you're high playing)

Blade clean and legs clean and the floor not so clean and breathes coming so fast she was shaking she slashed once at her inner thigh, high up enough all her shorts would cover it. The relief was a flood, all consuming and as beautiful as crashing waves to the point it brought her to tears. She'd missed it, missed the rush, and the high, and calm.

Yeah one wasn't gonna cut it, pun intended.

Guilt was tickling the back of her hazy mind but she could worry about that later. Finally after fifteen or so shallow cuts she was cool as a cucumber. There was hardly any blood, all of them barely bubbling up from her careful and light pressure. She stood up to clean herself off and nearly fell back down when someone knocked.

"Hey, you alive in there. My shift," came Dick's voice.

"Just a sec." Well crap.

"Sorry I'm late, Jay didn't tell me he wasn't here until like twenty minutes ago and I have no idea how long he's been gone but I was out and-"

"It's fine Dickie, I'm not gonna blow up or nothin'."

"Don't joke."

She opened the door after cleaning up her mess with a quick eye roll where he could see then she was showing him her arms and the tops on her thighs with and easily forced bored expression.

"What about your ribs?"

Another eyroll while she held up her shirt.

"Wanna see more ya gotta buy me dinner."

"Eww, don't joke like that I'm your brother."

"I gotta be uncomfy you gotta be," she said with a shrug and slid past him to get her bed.

"So dramatic," he said flopping himself down on the mattress.

"Looks who's talking," she snarked grabbing the throw blanket at the end to toss over him.

"No cuddles," he said with a pout.

"Had a bad dream, don't feel all that cuddly."

"Sorry."

"Didn't know you were sand man," she snorted climbing under the covers putting a good amount of space between them.

"I got promoted, or demoted depending on how you look at it."

"Demoted," she agreed laying down and facing away from him. He lasted all of two minutes before she heard him shift and just knew she wasn't gonna like it.

"We used to talk," he said softly.

"Dick don't-"

"I know I've slacked off, ok, I moved away and stopped checking in, and then I only heard from you once a month and I tried even less with Tim. And I went back through and you were the one to start the conversation, every time, and I feel like shit about that, I know that's on me. Then you tried to reach out for help and I was an ass." He scrubbed a hand down his face and through his hair and she knew has was consciously stopping himself from hugging her, he was touchy person.

"Is there a point to this?'

"Before I was an ass, back when we talked once a week why didn't you tell me. I would have helped, would have let you move in or convinced B you needed your own place or-"

"Dick, I've been doing this for so long I stopped caring about getting better. I only called you because...pinkie swear you won't repeat this," she said holding her arm behind her in the general direction of his. His pinkie found hers in seconds.

"Being, benched, grounded if you will...it made me feel small, like a kid being scolded for touching a hot stove or... I don't know but it was jarring and I forgot that I was an adult. And I just remember us being so close when I was younger, and you always gave the best hugs, and I kept thinking...maybe if I told you, you could fix it, my big brother. I knew you were upset about what happened but you've never held onto anything too long and I thought you'd be cooled off. Sorry." His hand enveloped hers.

"I'm such a bitch." She snorted.

"Not gonna argue with that."

"I know nothing I say is gonna make it better. I was criminally neglectful-"

"You're not my parent."

"No, but I am your big brother and I shouldn't have snapped at you. You should feel like you can always talk to me, always. Even if you got a hangnail and wanna complain about it-"

"Not doing that."

"You should! You should snap me or dm me or hell send me an email with a picture of your nail with the caption 'this bitch' and I should respond with a 'yeah can't believe that what a ho' and we should be able to have easy fun and flowing conversation again. But you should also feel ok bringing me the heavier stuff. You should know that if you sent me an sos I would be there. Or if you have a nightmare," he gave her hand a pointed squeeze," you should be able to call me and we can talk until the sun comes up and hate ourselves for the drousyness the next day-"

"Dick I'm not calling you for a -"

"You should! Damnit You're my little sister and I love you. I shouldn't have, fuck I shouldn't have let you go so long without making you know you could turn to me. I know it's tense between me and B but that has nothing to do with you or the others. If you need, if you or Tim or the others," he amended," need me to come to the manor I will. If you need to come stay the night or an ice cream run or a fucking pen you call me, text me, send a carrier pigeon." He was getting louder with each sentence and she half expecting him to start yelling and shaking her shoulders. She'll blame the nostalgia of having her brother there for what comes out of her mouth.

"I relapsed," she said simply, quietly.

"I'm proud of you for telling me." No lecture, no demanding to see them, just acceptance for who she was and where she was at. It made her throat tight.

"Say sike right now," she joked, finally rolling over to look at him. The soft smile on his face hardly visible in the dark but it made her insides churn. She didn't deserve it damnit. She didn't deserve his dismissal over the years but she couldn't handle him like this.

"Did you clean them?"

"No," she admitted trying to take her hand back from his but he used it to pull her towards him instead. His arms were like chains, she knew from experience, there was no escaping a Grayson hugtm.

"Are they deep?"

"No."

"then we can handle it later, or Jay can, or Tim, or Alfred, or whoever you want to. Hell you can clean them and I'll take your word for it."

"Why," she asked into his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been keeping secrets for years and am notably a good liar so why?"

"Because you are a good liar, you could have easily kept your relapse to yourself, but you didn't. It would be ideal to know before you try something but I'm proud of you for being honest after the fact," he said before she felt a slight pressure on her scalp and if she felt a few tears she wasn't gonna bring it up.

___

When she woke up a green eyed Jason was watching her from the floor where he sat with his chin on the mattress.

"Do you need to punch something," she asked pointing to her own eyes. he blinked the pit fueled haze left. "You're getting better at that. 'M proud."

"Need me to hit him," he asked using his eyes to gesture to Dick who was passed out sideways on the bed his arms wrapped around her waist and his head on the bed next to her. It looked like he was gonna have a neck ache and she couldn't remember him getting into the position but oh well not her problem.

"Neh, we were up kinda late talking, just help me escape."

"Anytime princess." He grabbed a pillow to ease under Dick's arm over her stomach and pried up so she could roll out before Dick clamped down onto the pillow and let out a sigh.

"M up."

"Well why didn't you let go, I've had to pee for like an hour," she hissed at his flicking his shoulder.

"You coulda' said 'at."

"Yeah whatever, for my ailment I require at least two pancakes and," she paused to tap her chin even though only Jay could see," you get to hold the apple when I next throw knives circus boy."

"Nope, no knives nice try though," Jason tisked at her tossing her over his shoulder and walking the few steps to her bathroom. He plunked her down on the floor, pecked her on the nose and promptly closed the door in her face. The shock had her blinking at the wood before she shrugged and handled her business. She could hear them talking but not what was being said and they weren't beating down the door yet so she opted to clean and bandage her cuts. They weren't bad and had no risk of infection, she wasn't stupid, so she just used and alcohol wipe and slapped a large bandaid on the area then used a sports wrap for good measure before sliding her (Jason's) boxers back on and washing her hands. There was no longer talking in the other room. She opened the door and pumped some lotion onto her dry hands, she hated touching door handles with anything on her hands, and headed into the room while she rubbed the lemon scented lovelyness in.

"So, my pancakes," she asked with a head tilt and a few toe taps. Both men were on the bed and looked at her with slightly unequal fondness. Jason with heart eyes and Dick with older brother love. Jason made grabby hands at her.

"Hugs first," he demanded with a pout," Dickibird had you all night." She rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be pulled down onto his leg his arms coming around her and his face getting buried into her neck. He sniffed before pulling her hand up to his face and inhaling deeply.

"Weirdo, it's just lemon," she chided but didn't take her hand back.

"Smells like sugar."

"Dick tell your brother to stop sniffing me."

"Uh uh, nope, he's your responsibility now, remember to feed and water him," Dick said hopping off the bed and ditching.

"That true," she asked Jay carding her free hand through his hair," or can you feed and water yourself." The tone was light with an underlying seriousness. He could have gotten hurt on patrol of wherever the hell he had gone and he wouldn't ever tell her, the hypocrite.

"Might need some water every once in a while," he said softly.

"Need some now?"

"Yeah," he said on a sigh.

"Where?"

"Ma shoulder." She hummed and gently rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt up to examine his left. Nothing. On to the right and yep there was brushing.

"D'ya pop it back in?"

"Didn' pop out, just hit a wall too hard swingin'."

Not taking his word for it she gently poked and prodded to be sure and was sickened when he didn't so much as shudder in pain. She crossed her fingers it was the pit healing and he hadn't taken too much of something. Satisfied it was only really bad bruising she gave the area a kiss and rolled his sleeve back down.

"All better," he said with a smile. And so was born the code water, not the best but it was more an inside joke than anything.

"I uh, got my own water but you can check if you want," she said tapping her own thigh.

"Dickie check 'em?"

"No, said he trusted me to clean them."

"Good 'nough for me."

"Are you using your accent more on purpose?"

"Why, don't like it?"

"Love it," she said getting a fist full of his hair to guide his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and slow even with her fingers tangled in his scalp and his own on her back and hip. The dreamy eyed look he gave her when she ran out of air had her stomach rolling with guilt from her relapse and she dropped her head to his chest unable to maintain eye contact.

"Can I have my pancakes now?" It was a small request, one she didn't even truly mean but he saw it for what it was, she wanted out of her room on her terms, not dragged out and forced to socialize against her will.

"Yeah, 'm sure Dick told Alf." He went to stand with her in his arms but she squeaked and wiggled to floor before he could.

"Your shoulder," she tisked at him gently, opting to hold his hand instead and lead him out of the room.

"Yes mom."

"Want me to bend you over my knee," she asked looking at him with the most innocent eyes. He shuddered and she smirked.

"None of that for a long time," he said bumping his hip into her.

"Thanks," she said bumping him back. She could tease all day but they'd already agreed to wait, she got sick just thinking about taking her clothes off for someone and he said that was fine. Of course her brain didn't believe that. the dude lied and went off to kill the joker without her. She knew he's had...relations, since coming back from the dead. Knew he was familiar with his body and how to use it in a way she envied. She wasn't blind, he was hot, pitfire hot, and he was a drug lord and he frequented bars and she really shouldn't have been surprised the first time she saw him leave with girl way prettier than her, and it shouldn't have hurt the second time. The third sent her sprinting for a place to empty her stomach and she couldn't eat for two days after, picturing the girls trim waist and ignoring her own which was well muscled and she would have loved on anyone but herself. The fourth time she watched him take a girl home she laid into her flesh with a blade like she hadn't in years and-

"-oll, sweetheart, babydoll, honeypumpkin, Y/n!" Oh that was Jason.

"Huh," she asked dumbly her eyes unfocused and breathing painful now that she thought about it.

"Deep breath, we got pancaked to eat," he demanded holding her hand to his chest and taking overly dramatic breaths. She blinked at him and realized with complete and all consuming self hatred they were in the kitchen and their were too many eyes on her and she was too hot and her skin itched and her eyes burned and head hurt and she needed out. Out of her own skin and away from them and-

"-p, stop, please be careful." It was Jason again that much she knew, but she wasn't sure what he wanted her to stop doing, she was just scratching her arms in panic and...oh, she realized her fingers felt cool and a glance down showed blood.

"Huh," she mummbled again, still blinking too fast, or was it too slow?

He was holding both her hands to his chest again and she could feel the rise and fall it felt the same as he own so she couldn't understand why he was talking about deep breaths. She was breathing which she apparently said out loud because a reply came from behind her.

"No you're not, kid come on in and out." The new voice pulled her back tight against a firm chest and the smell of lavender made her head hurt more. Dick.

"C'n't, m head. Sm'l, s'too strong," the last word the clearest as she forced it past her aching lungs and huh guess she wasn't breathing. He vision swam as Dick was replaced with someone not wearing too much lavender hair gel but this someone was shorter. Her height ish but the chest was still firm and the arms around her toned.

"You're gonna pass out." Oh, that was Tim.

"T'm?"

"Yep, that's me I'm here, come on you nerd just breathe, if you pass out I'm eating every pancake and waffle."

Right pancakes. She could smell them now, along with different versions of sugary syrup and fruit. She focused on the smell of fake strawberries, and pictured the red syrup-nope, nope, nothing red, that makes her vision swim more. Blueberries, she could think of blueberries, not her favorite syrup flavor but doable, if Damian didn't eat it all, he loved his fruit. She hoped he wasn't here to see this. The smells got stronger as she was moved further into the room and she tried to reach for the bottles she could see to her left. She was in Bruce's lap, she realized Jason crouched in front of her and her wrists still in his grasp. Damnit, she wanted the syrup. She wanted her pancakes. At least she could see them now, her vision returning and ears not ringing as loud. Her chest hurt but she was taking easier breathes and she looked around to get her bearings. Dick was on the other side of the kitchen washing his hair out in the sink while Alfred helped. She was still sitting in Bruce's lap, Tim was gently wiping her forearms, Jason was sitting now, still holding her hands but less from. Damian was crying two seats over, and-wait, Damian was crying two seats over!

"Dami," she croaked clearing her throat to try again. "Dami, I'm ok now, promise." She knew she looked like shit and it made the statement all but useless. He ran from the room followed quickly by Alfred. Dick took the seat next to her.

"That sucked," she said head drooping onto her adopted father's shoulder against her will. She was still pissed at him, but she was so tired.

"What triggered it," Jason asked with concealed panic. Right she'd probably made him blame himself. And given him a heart attack. She didn't answer just closed her eyes and took gloriously easy breathes.

"Sorry, I forgot you don't like lavender," Dick said. He had a dish towel around his shoulders catching the water droplets from his sink bath.

"Gives me a headache,' she supplied giving him a thumbs up.

"I'll toss it."

She gave another less stable thumbs up and forced herself to sit up straight.

"Can I have my pancakes now?" They all jumped to say no, afraid she might not keep them down but Bruce beat them to it readjusting her like she was still a kid and fed her from his plate. He got syrup on her shirt, just a drop, but she hated being dirty in her pj's and her hands clenched and un-clenched nervously at her side making the next few bites hard to swallow. Half a pancake later she felt human, aside from the syrup drop taunting her, the other had moved away to their seats to taking slow bites of their own food. Jason looked like hell and she knew she couldn't explain why she'd had her freak out.

"Has this happened before," Bruce asked, eating after she'd shook her head at another bite.

"I don't think so, but it could have. Sometimes I space out, but it's never lasted so long. Never in the field," she was quick to say.

"What brought it on," Jason tried again, and the look in his made the pancakes roll in the stomach.

"Can I have some water," she asked in reply. He looked torn, but grabbed a bottle from the fridge and set it in front of his chair. She tilted her head at him but he ignored the look and took her from Bruce to have in his own lap. She flinched when he sat and her mind started up again calling her overweight, saying she would hurt his leg. He held her to one side and grabbed the water before she could reach for it. She took it from him and tried to twist the cap, but her hands weren't working yet, the girl strength in her fingers gone. She grew frustrated the longer she tried. Her jaw ticked and she was seconds from throwing it in a fit when Jason took pity and opened it, going so far as to hold it to her lips. Her family treating her like a child and passing her around the table was pissing her off but she didn't fight him and took slow sips until he seemed pleased and set it on the table. She didn't dare pick it up, she'd probably spill it.

She fished her phone out of Jason's pocket where she knew it to be so she could check the time but he snatched it back before she could even push the button.

"Hey," she grumbled. He slid it to Dick who pocketed the device.

"Not till you talk, what made you-"

"Freak out like a weirdo?"

"Have a physical reaction to a mental problem you need help with." She snorted at his phrasing. She was fading into sleep again, the sugar keeping her lucid this long, but she fought to keep her eyes open and on his.

"Wanna tell me and not these losers," Tim asked over his cup of coffee. "It's decaf," he lied when she squinted at the mug.

"I...think I wanna talk to Alfred," she said gently, testing the waters.

"Ok, that's ok, s'long as you talk to somebody," Jason said grabbing one of her hands where she'd started to pick her cuticles.

"But not till he's done with Damian, poor kid shouldn't have to keep seeing what a fuck up I am."

"Don't say that," Bruce chided.

"The kid found me in a pink tub."

"Which is fucked, I'll agree but it made us pay attention to something we should have seen long ago. Some detectives we are," Dick said still shoving his face with pancakes. She wondered not for the first time where he put it, dude was fit, and ate like a horse. She couldn't so much as smell sugar without feeling it go to her waist.

"How do you do that," she said then smacked her free hand over her mouth. Oops, that was an inside thought, guess a tired y/n is an honest one.

"Do what," he asked, tilting his head like the massive puppy he is. Jason gently pried her hand down.

"Eat so much and not get fat?"

"So much. Kid I've done the calculations, with what I burn nearly every night I eat perfectly if not under what I should." His head tilted the other way, stupid puppy eyes.

"But..." She couldn't think of a way to phrase it to make them understand, stupid men and their stupid better metabolism.

"Sweetheart, how many calories do you eat in a day?"

"Two-thousand-one-hundred. Ten carbs, no less than a hundred grams of protein, and whatever fiber is in my protein shake," she said automatically. She didn't have a problem, she ate fine, she ate just right for her job. She was careful. Didn't stop the voices in her head from shouting every time she passed a mirror though.

"That's...specific," Dick said with uncertainty.

"Do you keep a journal," Bruce asked clearing plates.

"A feeling journal, no."

"I meant a food journal."

"Oh, yeah, nothing weird about that plenty of people have one," she jumped to defend herself. She was so tired and they just wouldn't let her be, she wanted to curl into her boyfriend, heh boyfriend, and sleep for days. Distantly she knew that wasn't a good thought.

"Yes they do, and there's nothing wrong with it just wondered if you would mind sharing it."

"No," she said without hesitation.

"We just wanna make sure you're ok," Tim said gently.

"I just wanna go to sleep. I'm tired from my freak out, please can I take a nap in the library or something," she whined using her own puppy eyes on Jason. He sighed and finished his coffee like a shot then eased her off his lap to stand.

'Want me to carry you," Dick asked, knowing about his brothers bruised shoulder.

"I've been tossed around like a toddler enough for now, thank you."

10-16-24

@stormz369

[ohmtoff]

you made me think ab nerd nick too damn much its concerning. imagine jerking him off while he yaps ab his geeky stuff, stuttering and his words slurring when you squeeze around his tip

ANON…. youre actually my soulmate how did we think of the same thing (nsfw)

nerdy nick who’s far sighted so he regularly wears his glasses that make his eyes look bigger and just adorable. his wardrobe consists of graphic tees and hoodies that fit him awkwardly and his hair is most of the time disheveled.

nerdy nick whose budget goes to cosplay and comic con because those things are expensiveee and his brothers try their hardest to support him by helping him make the costumes (imagine nick unironically doing the anime hands thing around chris and matt and they try not to cringe LMFAOOOOO).

nerdy nick who yaps soooo much about his interests, from lord of the rings lore to his fav doctor from doctor who. i can just IMAGINE him making video essays complaining ab the new live action avatar series and how it doesnt hold up to the original series.

nerdy nick who’s the same sassy and witty guy as we know but he also puts that energy to defend his fav characters on the internet. best believe he has a stan account. many of his tattoos are dedicated to his comfort characters as well.

nerdy nick whose interests look innocent to others but behind closed doors he regularly reads and writes the most sheet gripping, back arching, toe curling smut about his fav fictional men. erwin from aot, thorin from the hobbit, ALL of jujutsu kaisen. he furiously stroked his dick to the thought of getting fucked dumb by nanami.

nerdy nick who acted normal and talks about regular stuff when he first met you but when he gets comfortable with you he immediately starts yapping. you think he’s just the most adorable thing when his eyes light up when talking about all his interests. you don’t even know what he’s talking about but your attention is hooked. nick, however, was used to people pretending to care about what he’s talking about so he stops himself.

“i’m sorry. ugh, i always talk too much, that was weird and boring”

“no, no, it’s fine. so… uruk-hais are bred between orcs and humans?”

nick wanted to suck your dick right then and there.

having sex with anime playing in the background was not rare between you two. one time, you both were watching an episode when you got distracted by how his tongue was peeking out with concentration. you noticed how fat his tongue was and how red his lips were. those same lips were wrapped around your cock not long after that. nick was gagging and moaning around it, his eyes bubbling up with tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he jerked you off from the base. saliva would drip from his mouth, running down his chin as he struggled to take everything down. he was still wearing those same glasses, sliding down his nose from the sweat. he looks up at you with those big puppy eyes, tears running down his face. the sight makes you groan and shove your dick further into his throat. you thought he looked absolutely beautiful with cum streaks on his glasses.

nerdy nick who sometimes rambles too much and in these times you love teasing him. “come on, baby, tell me more,” you whispered to the back of his ear as he writhed and thrashed on your chest, pants gone and his swollen cock red and dripping as you squeezed the base. “time- time lords have two hearts, so,” he lets out a pathetic whine, “so the doctor never dies, he—mmnghh—they instead regenerate into a new body-AH-“ you squeeze and dug your thumb into his leaking tip. his chest heaves and he pants like a dog. “fu—uck, please, please, please. i wann- i wanna cum, oh please.” you think he deserves it so you quicken your strokes and let him cum. his mouth releasing unintelligible noises while those beautiful blue eyes go cross eyed.

nerdy nick who becomes your person and who you will go to endless comic cons with, watch a new series with, and who eventually will turn you into an even bigger nerd than he is😩🤞🏼

a/n: i wrote this without pause wtf

[mattysketchup]

do you even love me?

a/n: yes i finally decided to sit down and actually write something while blasting conan gray 😍😍 anyways i got a little smth for y'all, it is angst so yeah lmk if you want a part two to this !

warnings: some swearing, matt is lowk a dick, angst, use of pet names and y/n !

(masterlist)

➽──────────────❥

as you were typing aggressively on the computer in front of you, you hear a familiar voice from behind you. "babe" matt whined. "when are you coming back to cuddle" you turned around to see matt laying on the bed with a bored expression. "just a second matt, i have to finish writing this email" you sigh. matt knew you had a lot on your plate with work and school, but right now he didnt care. "can you please come cuddle for a bit?" he complained from the lack of touch. "just give me five more minutes babe" you say, turning in your seat to work on the unfinished email in front of you. "you said that ten minutes ago baby." he stated, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "all you've been doing is work and school, i feel like you never make time for me." you are now fully turned around in your seat, a look of utter confusion painted on your face.

"excuse me? matt, im really trying here." you say, trying not to start any arguments. "well, i would sure like it if you tried in our relationship." he mumbles, knowing he sounded like a jerk. "matt, i dont think you understand" you began. "i have to deal with my family, i have work, i have school and so much more. you just get to fuck around with your brothers for a living." the boy who was once laying on the bed is now perched up on the edge, arguing with you.

"y/n, my job is serious. there is so much work that goes into it and you just dont understand. you'll never understand." he says. you are so tired and burnt out that you dont even care to fight back, you simply just try to reason with him. "matt i-" you begin but the brunette cuts you off. "y'know, it's funny. i try so hard and care so much for our relationship but you just try to hide us away like you hate me. have you even told your parents were dating?" he spits. "matt, i dont think you-" you start, but once again are cut off by matt. "i bet you haven't. do you even love me?" you pause for a moment, staring at the man in front of you.

"matt, this isn't worth fighting over." you say, trying to deescalate the situation. "are you sure? because i truly cant think of the last time you actually did something nice for me." matt says. "matt, are you being serious?" you ask, hoping he knows how hard you are really trying. "yeah, i am." he says, you both are now standing, trying to reason with one another. "then i dont think this is gonna work." you say. you know you dont mean it, but do you? this argument had come up maybe six times in the last week, and you've grown tired of it.

"w-what? are you breaking up with me?" he asks, in complete disbelief. "i-i dont know matt." you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "answer the damn question y/n!" he yells. the argument, something that was a small thing, has now become a full on fight between the two. "i- no! i just- i-" you stutter, grabbing your computer and shoving it into your bag. "can we talk about this later?" he grabs your wrist, pulling you over to him. "no. we're gonna talk about this now." you try to compose yourself in front of him so you don't break down into tears on his bedroom floor. "matt let go of me!" you say, loud enough to gather the attention of the others in the house. you suddenly hear a small knock at the door.

"y'all good in there?" you hear chris say from outside the room. you and matt are quiet, both awkwardly staring at the floor. chris cracks the door open, peeking in. "yeah. we're good." you finally say. "i should go." you gather all your stuff and walk out, saying a quick 'bye' to chris as you walk out of the house. matt can't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing he might've gone a little far with the argument. he accepts the fact that you're obviously pissed, so he decides to back off and give you space before texting or calling you.

➽──────────────❥

a/n: hii so this is like my first angst fic so PLEASE don't be a silent reader, feedback is much appreciated! thanks for reading!

blessings and riches, tessa:)

[fuutakaijyama]

IMITADORA! ᝰ JASON TODD . P1

¿quién es esta imitadora hoy en su lugar?

CONTAINS : ANGST, POST BREAK-UP, GETTING WITH THE "ENEMY", COMFORT, EX!DICK GRAYSON, "ENEMY"!JASON TODD. SOOTHING, NON SEXUAL INTIMACY, CUDDLING, NIGHT IN, HURT/COMFORT, FLUFF.

Did it matter? Was it worth all of the effort? Was there any love to begin with? You couldn't answer the question as you cried, looking down at the memory on your camera roll, you and your now ex-boyfriend Richard “Dick” Grayson on your phone with you as your lipstick stained his cheek, looking at each other as he smiled.

Was that real? Was he just doing it to make you happy? You couldn't tell. Feeling the hot tears of shame, grief, anger, confusion, and yearning in your soul.

Not for him, but to feel the way you felt when you were with him.

You didn't want to think about it, groaning in annoyance as you selected pictures from your camera roll, one after one erasing the digital memories that you held, a way to control the grief of your dead relationship.

You’d blocked his number, deleted his contact, got rid of all his social media, given him back all of his things, and moved him out of your apartment. But there was one thing that bit at the back of your mind, slowly eating away at you like some sort of brain eating infestation.

Jason Todd, his brother and the one member of his family he’d mildly forbidden you from interacting with throughout the course of your relationship due to some.. internal affairs.

But you had his number saved in your phone, a call wouldn't hurt. Right?

You hesitated, staring at his contact on your screen in a snowstorm of emotions that threatened to swallow you whole, one after another as the confusion, anger, fear, confusion and conflict washed over you in quick waves.

You pressed the call button and pressed the phone to your ear as you made your way to your couch, sitting with your knees pressed against your chest while your chin rested on your knees.

One ring after another, before the line clicked. “Hello, [Name]?” you could hear his brow raise from the other side of the line, the gruff, deep, and mildly disembodied voice from him hitting you almost like a freight train.

“If this is about you running back to Dick he's happier-” “That's not why I’m calling!-” You cut him off, sitting up straight in annoyance, your back pressed itself into a straight line, jeez.. sucha headache.

You pulled the phone from your ear, pressing the large red button on your screen, the call ending as soon as it started. Back to wallowing in self pity.

“Just-” You groaned, feeling as if any attempt to explain would be futile “Nevermind. I was just calling for some company.”

You both sat on opposite ends of the couch, chips and dip, alcohol and snacks thrown on your coffee table as you chugged a bit of your drink while Jason blabbed about whatever he could think of.

“And that's why he and Kory didn't work out.” He groaned while looking you down on the couch, his deep sunken eyes boring into yours.

“That's stupid.” You muttered, swallowing whatever the hell you had in your mouth while you jerked your head to look at him, shifting around to sit just slightly closer to him. He responded fluidly, both body and voice, his arm wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his side.

“Yeah, trust me I got a front row seat to it.” He chuckled, calloused and dry hand softly massaging the side of your head and hair. Jason Todd, possibly the softest yet stoic man you've ever met.

You leaned into him, placing your drink on the table and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body as the alcohol hitting you in all the right places, the dim light of your living room making the moment feel immensely more intimate than you ever did with Dick.

How sweet.

You felt him shift, opening your eyes as you both awkwardly locked onto each other, the strange push and pull with the pseudo-stranger in your home. He patted his thigh, a silent beckoning gesture, a plea for intimacy. You complied, dragging the blanket from the couch right along with you as you settled into him, taking the blanket from you and draping it over your interlinked bodies, his hand finding your bareback and rubbing it up and down, your arms snaking around his neck.

“This is nice..” You mumbled, prompting him to respond with a firm grunt, a smile on his face as you nestled into each other.

“You know.. I know we aren't- significantly close. But I’d like to take you out some time.” He offered quietly, a hint of fluster coloring his voice. “Like dinner.” he elaborated, his hand on your back never stilling as he spoke.

“I’d like that,” You smiled into his collar, your closed eyes shining into the black void behind your eyelids.

“Yeah?- I’ll plan something and text you.”

© 2023 FUUTAKAJIYAMAS. do not copy any of my layouts / writing + translate / repost onto any other sites.

[justinalovee]

Okay you got me with Helaena x Reader x Aegon

Gonna share a thought that has been hunting me for ages, that is Aegon and Helaena with little sister aka Aemond's twin (if you don't like the incest ignore this pls, she grow'd up really close to Aegon and Helaena and one night after she has a nightmare and she goes to seek her sister comfort, so she catches Aegon and Helaena fucking and its her sexual awakening (she would 17/18 of course).

𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen × Reader × Helaena Targaryen

Word Count: 631

Warnings: Incest, oral sex, dry humping, smut, swearing, hint of religious shame, perving

Summary: You walk in on Aegon and Helaena fucking for the first time

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI. Thank you for the fun request! This work is part of an on going mini series

You couldn’t get the icy blue eyes that bore into you out of your mind. The world was nothing but ice, full of death. Three men who looked as if they were made of ice led an army of the dead, along with a dragon that breathed blue flames.

It was just a dream.

Gulping down, you head towards the secret door that separates your sleeping quarters from your older sister Helaena’s while rubbing away tears that spilled from the corner of your eyes. You knew Helaena was the only one who wouldn’t judge you for being shaken after having a bad dream. Your twin brother Aemond would definitely tease you, and depending on Aegon’s mood, he probably would as well in a joking manner, not realizing how upset you were.

Taking a few deep breaths, you shakily make your way towards the door hidden by a painting and go to push it open, but stop when you hear a moaning sound. You’re about to call out and ask if she’s okay, but stop when you hear Aegon’s voice.

“That’s it; take all of it like a good girl.”

You creak the hidden door open enough to see into her bedchambers, and you gasp seeing Helaena grinding against her pillow while sucking Aegon’s cock. Your jaw goes slack; you had never seen either of them naked before. You didn’t quite understand what you were watching, but they both seemed to be enjoying it, especially Helaena, who was now squealing.

You knew it was wrong to watch, but you couldn’t pull yourself away.

Helaena squeezed her breasts as she let out a finally whining sound that was muffled by Aegon’s dick in her mouth. She topped grinding the pillow and let go of Aegon, whipping away the saliva that had fallen from her lips, then moved to lay on her back. Aegon stroked himself a few times before positioning himself between her thighs and thrusting into her. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of skin slapping together and their moans.

“Hmm,” Helaena says, pinching her nipples. “Please, please, please.”

“Use your words; tell me what you want.”

Pouting, Helaena says, “I want to cum.”

A wicked grin spreads across Aegon’s face; he licks two of his fingers before lowering them and rubbing circles on Helaena’s clits. A sensation you’ve never felt before starts to form in your core. Instinctively, you look down, feeling a wetness gathering between your legs that started to drip down your thighs.

This was sinful.

You’d only come to seek comfort in your sweet sister's arms, and now you’re watching a private moment meant to be shared between man and wife. What bothered you the most was how much you enjoyed it.

“Fuck!”

“That’s it,” Aegon says in a teasing voice. “Cum all over your husband's dick like a good girl; cover me in your sweet juices.”

Helaena arches her back, crying out before collapsing back onto her back. Aegon thrust into her a few more times before letting out a loud grunt. He leans forward and captures her lips in his; the simple action caused your breath to capture in your throat. You wondered what it would be like to kiss both of them and whose lips would feel more soft against your own. No, no, no, this was wrong. You loved them both so much, they were your best friends, but they were married, and you had no business thinking about them in that way.

Aegon pulls out and lifts Helaena’s legs up, spreading them open so her swollen, wet cunt is on display. He looks smug, watching as his cum drips out of her.

Knowing it was impossible for you to interrupt now, you turn and head back to your bedchamber.

—

Pacing back and forth, you hold the necklace that represents the faith of the seven in your hand, hoping the mother would forgive you for the sin you had just committed. You doubted your own mother would; she was hell-bent on betrothing you to your twin, and if either of them found out what you did, you don’t imagine Aemond would take you as a wife. Not that you should care much since you don’t love him in that way, but it was your duty to your house.

When you had returned to your bedchambers, you had tossed and turned feeling restless and ended up pleasuring yourself with the memory of Aegon and Helaena. You imagined what her breasts would feel like against your tongue while pretending your fingers belonged to Aegon.

Hearing a knock at your door, you place your robe on and go to open it, expecting it to be the tea you asked to be brought up.

“Brother?”

Aegon walks into your room, “unable to sleep?”

You nod and say, “Yes, I’ve asked for some tea to be brought up. Would you like some?”

“No,” he says softly. “You know, next time you can join us if you like.”

Fuck.

Assuming he was mad, you struggled to talk. “I..uh… what?”

“We heard your footsteps echoing and assumed you’d turn back when you first noticed us, but then you didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“I didn’t mind, and neither did Helaena.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, and you motion for him to join you. “Me and Helaena got married out of duty; for us, love and friendship came after we wed. But with you, it’s different. We both care about you a lot.”

“Does Helaena know you are here?”

He chuckles, “Yes and no. She was going to come with me, but she fell asleep. Did you enjoy what you saw?”

“Yes.” You blush. “It... confused me at first because I thought a man and woman only lay together for duty, but you both seemed to be into it.”

“Fucking is for pleasure, sweet girl, and one day when you’re ready, both me and Helaena will gladly show you all the pleasures sex can offer, and It seems you've had your sexual awakening tonight.”

“I’m to be betrothed to Aemond.”

Aegon kisses your cheek and says, “I wouldn’t worry about that sweet girl.”

[calaisreno]

Prognosis

974 words / Prompt: Apology (Sequel to yesterday's Diagnosis)

I follow John up the ladder from the Sumatra Road station and into the narrow tunnel that led us there. 

As we emerge into the waning daylight, I take a couple of long strides to catch up with him. 

“Did you mean it?” I ask. “Do you forgive me?”

John keeps walking. “Of course I do. You didn’t actually have to make me think we were about to die, you know. I forgave you the minute I saw you.”

“But. You’ve stayed away. I wasn’t sure…”

John stops walking, stares down at the pavement. 

“I used to talk to you when you were dead.”

I wait, silent. What I want to know, I can’t ask. 

John begins walking again. It’s almost completely dark by now, the grey gloom of November in London. 

“I shouldn’t have…” I begin. I’m so bad at this. Just talk, tell him… “I mean, I don’t know how to apologise. What I did that night in the restaurant— I shouldn’t have made light of it. I was so glad to see you, and I wanted to make you laugh. It was stupid of me to interrupt your date like that. I assume Mary was upset too.”

“Not at all.” John gives me a wan smile. “She seemed thrilled at your return.”

“John.” I flail a bit, having no words. “I’ve been gone two years, and I should have realised you’d move on. I hope… I hope I haven’t ruined things for you and Mary.”

John stops again, frowns at me. “Oh. No, that was just a date. She works at the surgery, and everyone kept pushing me to ask her out because it was clear she fancied me. Finally, she did the asking, and I accepted because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She knows we can’t be more than friends.”

Another mystery. “But… why?”

John sighs and turns away. 

I catch his arm. “Please tell me. What did you say when you talked to me… while I was… dead?”

“I talked about my work sometimes. I was doing shifts in the A&E then, drinking too much, being a dick to everyone who cared about me. I was drowning and didn’t know how to save myself. So I talked to you.”

“Did it help?”

“It did. I walked, and you would be there, at my side. It sounds a bit unhinged, I know. A couple times your brother followed me in his car. I got in and we chatted. He was considering sectioning me, I think. But he could see I was functioning, so he let me go.”

“When you talked to me, what did I say?”

He smiles. “The usual. Complaining about how bored you were, asking me to buy those biscuits for you, deducing people in the shops… telling me I was drinking too much. You used to disappear when I had a few too many, so I stopped doing that.”

“And you talked to me. But you don’t answer my texts, and you haven’t been to see me since that night. Why?”

John looks up at me. “Let’s walk.”

A bus goes by. I think a bus would be better than dragging John into another train station. But John wants to walk, and if that’s the only way he’ll talk, I will walk to the ends of the earth, just to hear his voice again. 

“I missed you, John. So much. I wanted so much to tell you why I did it, why it mattered.”

“I know. Mycroft stopped by the morning after you popped up in the middle of my date. He explained. I am grateful, you know.”

“But…” I huff in frustration. “I realise that after two years, I can’t expect you to simply move back to Baker Street and start making tea for me. But I miss you.”

“I missed you, too. And I do want—” His pace slows. “There was something I said to you. I mean—”

“To my ghost.”

Eyes straight ahead, he smiles, sad. “Yeah, that. Every time I said it, you disappeared.”

I take John’s arm. “Say it.”

He stops walking. His eyes are closed, his head bowed. He whispers. “Please don’t disappear. Please.”

“John, please. I won’t disappear. I’m here, alive, and I’m not leaving you again. Never again. Please, just say it.”

 I lean close to hear his words, so soft.

“I love you.” 

Eyes still closed, he sways, tears coursing down his face. 

I hold him steady. “Look at me, John.”

John is a soldier. He followed me into that train carriage that turned out to be a bomb. He stood with me while the timer counted down the last minutes (he thought) of our lives. I believe he would have followed me into the hell I’ve been in for the last two years, if I’d only asked him. If only I had.

“Open your eyes, John.”

He obeys. The face I love, the face I’ve imagined for two years. I felt his presence at times while I was on my mission, heard his voice inside my head. But I needed to focus. I had a job to do, and John’s life depended on it. 

If I’d been left alone, nothing useful to do, no danger dogging my steps, if I’d trudged the streets of London so full of grief I couldn’t speak, I might have imagined him walking beside me. I might have said it to him then, at last. 

“John, I love you too.”

We will heal, with time and talk.

Life at 221B Baker Street is better than before. Bad dreams are soothed in the nighttime, and mornings in our bed are quiet and soft, hearing the rain shush against our window. 

“You don’t need to defend what you did,” John tells me. “I know why, and I love you for it.”

--

🥲 I wish you happier tears today! Thanks for reading; you can find my month of stories on AO3: Trifles 3.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

"Oh, and I guess what you did was okay?" Nancy asked.

"No, I never said that," Jonathan replied.

"He had every right to be pissed," Nancy replied.

"Listen, don't take it personally, okay?" Jonathan said. "I don't like most people. He's in the vast majority."

"You know, I was actually starting to think you were okay," she said angrily.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was thinking, 'Jonathan Byers, he's not the pretentious creep everyone thinks he is,' " Nancy said.

"Well, I was starting to think that you were okay. I was thinking, 'Nancy Wheeler, she's not just another suburban girl who thinks she's rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does. . .until that phase passes, and they marry some boring one-time jock, who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly little boring life at the end of a cul-de-sac. Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing. . .but now, hey, they get it,' " Jonathan spat.

Jonathan felt like he had just slapped himself and Nancy. His insides went cold as Nancy looked at him in annoyance. He could see the hurt flash behind her eyes as well. What the fuck did he just say to her? God, he was a pretentious creep and an asshole. That was something his father would have said. He scoffed and stepped back, turning away from her. She did the same as they continued walking through the woods. And that's when he heard it. It was so quiet, it was hard not to. It was a sniffle. Nancy was crying or trying not to.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.

"Whatever," Nancy said.

Her best friend was missing. It was just as hard for her as it was for him, he remembered. Jonathan gently grabbed her arm, and she yanked it out of his grasp. Nancy turned to him. She was trying not to let the tears come.

"I really am sorry. You didn't deserve that. Especially the part about your parents. I shouldn't have thrown that in your face," Jonathan said.

"No, you shouldn't have," Nancy said, crossing her arms. "You're a dick."

"Yeah, that's true," Jonathan said. "I'm not proud of what I said. That's something my dad would have said to my mom, and I always hated him. I try so hard not to be like him. He ends up coming out anyway."

"I get that," Nancy said, her features softening.

"I shouldn't have taken those pictures. I was completely wrong for that, and Steve had every right to break my camera. I would have been even more fucked if she had gone to the police and my mom was left to pay for it. . .but that doesn't matter. I had plenty of time to stop taking those pictures, and I pushed my brother to the back of my mind when I saw you in the pool. . .when I saw something that I tried not to pretend I didn't want to be a part of. I say I hate people, but really, I hate the fact that I feel so alone, and when I saw you with them. . .I was jealous. You weren't pretending to be anyone else. If anyone was pretending, it was me. Pretending I didn't want to have friends, pretending that there was anything artistic about those photos. . .the only thing they were saying was that the boy behind the camera was lonely, and there was a part of him that wanted to have fun like you were having fun. Now, I'm a crazy boy in the woods, rambling and crying," Jonathan sniffled. "I'm sorry."

Nancy stared at him, her anger completely gone now. She no longer held that furious protective stance.

"Maybe you're not a pretentious creep like I though you were," Nancy said softly.

"No, you were right about that," Jonathan said.

"Well, maybe after this, we can fix that," Nancy said. "All of it."

Jonathan wasn't sure what she meant by that, and he was afraid to find out. It got a little crazy after that. They continued to search for the faceless creature, whatever it was, in the woods until it got dark. They found a wounded deer in the woods. Nancy had assumed that it had gotten hit by a car. Jonathan decided that it would be smart not to point out that they were in the middle of the woods. He didn't have long to think about it before the deer was yanked away, and shortly after that, he lost Nancy. He ended up pulling her out of a tree, and the hole he pulled her out of had closed behind her. Jonathan had held her tightly after that and made sure she got home safely. Nancy had looked so shaken. He had to make sure that she made it into her room. It had been scary for him, but it had been even scarier for her. She could have died tonight. He put a sweater around her and then his arm. Somehow, he found himself lying next to her in her bed. If she hadn't looked at him with those eyes of hers, he would have happily taken the floor.

"I don't want to be alone," Nancy had said, and Jonathan had folded.

It was awkward, lying here next to her like he hadn't thought about it a million times over. After everything, he shouldn't feel a little bit of hope building up inside of him.

"We don't really know each other, do we?" Jonathan asked.

"I think because our brothers are friends, it feels like we do," Nancy said.

"Do you think - do you think that we could be friends?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Nancy said.

It was the most he had ever spent with Nancy, only having watched her from afar like he's done with everyone else. It was easier to keep everyone at arm's length when he had his camera, but now he didn't. He had no excuse not to be vulnerable or honest with Nancy or try to push her away. He was definitely odd, no doubt about that, and maybe that's why he didn't try to put himself out there because people wouldn't understand him or his taste in music. Maybe pushing them away first before they could hurt him would be easier on him, right?

"I think I liked it when he broke my camera," Jonathan said, breaking the silence.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know why, but when he looked at me as he dropped it. . .that's weird, right?" Jonathan asked.

"I mean, I don't know. . .I'm not sure I'm the right person to judge on what's strange or not," Nancy said.

"It's like. . .it's like he could see through me for a moment. . .I know why he did it. . .he did it out of anger, but for a moment, it seemed like he knew I needed to let go of it," Jonathan said. "I think I'm just reading into things again."

"Well, I don't think he should have broken it to do that," Nancy said.

"Yeah, maybe, but like what I said in the woods. . .we all say and do shit we don't mean in the heat of the moment," Jonathan said.

"Well. . .we're teenagers. . .it's the most confusing times of our lives," she replied.

"I've been using it like a crutch, anyway. I've spent so long looking through that lense that I've gotten a narrow view of people. I've forgotten that there are more to people than just what I see in an image of them, a brief glimpse of their lives," Jonathan said. "I want to remember what it's like to be a photographer because sometimes it's so much more complicated, and sometimes, a picture is just a picture. . .I forgot where the line was."

"And sometimes, a girl just wants to fuck a boy," Nancy said and Jonathan burst into laughter. "Jonathan! Shh! You're going to wake my parents."

Jonathan stuffed his face into his pillow, and Nancy giggled quietly.

"We should probably get some sleep," Jonathan said.

"You're right," Nancy said. "Goodnight, Jonathan."

"Goodnight, Nancy," Jonathan paused and closed his eyes. "It was incredibly hot, too. . .him breaking my camera. Shouldn't have found it hot, but I did."

The next day, it wasn't quite so awkward with Nancy. Although, he was annoyed that his father was still loitering around. He knew it was because of some scheme of his and that he was only here to benefit himself, to squeeze whatever he could out of the situation. He tried not to show it, but Nancy could tell. It cheered him up considerably when she told the man behind the counter that they were monster hunting. The look on his face. . .it was so ridiculous. He didn't even bother asking anymore questions. Jonathan suspected he didn't really care, just glad to get customers. He was glad that Nancy didn't ask him about what he had let slip last night as he was falling asleep. If she had heard him, he couldn't tell. He was about to bring it up when some asshole in a car mentioned seeing her movie, and that's when they saw it on the Hawk. All the Right Moves starting Nancy the Slut Wheeler.

It was all a blur after that. Nancy discovered Steve, Tommy, and Carol at the scene of the crime . Steve revealed that he had witnessed them getting all cozy last night. It had been a well-deserved slap from Nancy even though Jonathan had known that it was Tommy and Carol holding the evidence. Steve hadn't stopped them. What could Nancy have said? She had been attacked by a monster, and that's why Jonathan was comforting her? Steve hadn't known, and it was easy to jump to those conclusions with the photos and everything. . .it was the only thing that made sense to a teenager. Nancy had said that they're teenagers, and it was the most confusing time of their lives. Steve had turned on him then.

"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer but I guess you're just a screw up like your father," Steve had said. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. That house is full of screw ups. A bunch of screw ups in your family. I'm not even surprised by what happened to your brother, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire - "

Jonathan had clenched his jaw, refusing to look at him even when he had shoved him. He tried so hard to ignore what he said, his words from the woods swimming in his ears to remind him that he was an asshole too.

"Well, I was starting to think that you were okay. I was thinking, 'Nancy Wheeler, she's not just another suburban girl who thinks she's rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does. . .until that phase passes, and they marry some boring one-time jock, who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly little boring life at the end of a cul-de-sac. Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing. . .but now, hey, they get it,' " Jonathan spat.

Yeah, teenagers. . .they're all assholes. It was weird that he had acted just as defensively as Steve had. Steve had screwed up, and instead of apologizing, he had insulted Jonathan, like Jonathan had insulted Nancy. Maybe it was the fact that Jonathan was struggling with his own attraction to Steve, to Nancy, on top of his missing brother and strange monsters, but it was all too much for Jonathan. He whirled around and punched Steve.

He kept on punching him, and Steve fought back, throwing him to the ground, pressing his body against his. Jonathan flipped him, throwing another punch as he straddled his thigh. He could vaguely hear Tommy and Nancy screaming at him. Jonathan felt his stomach get warm. Can you still be attracted to someone and also hate him? No, Jonathan had nothing in common with Steve Harrington, and it was stupid of him to think that he did. When did Steve stop fighting back? Jonathan paused and looked into his eyes. Steve wanted Jonathanto hit him. Before Jonathan could question it further, someone was touching him. He reacted on instinct and swung. Fuck, it was a goddamn cop.

"You act like you're all alone in this world, Jonathan, but you're not," Joyce reminded him. "You're not."

His mom had been right. He had risked his life and Nancy's. He just wanted to save Will so badly, and he was so used to doing everything on his own. It wasn't his mother's fault. It was just the situation they were in. They had no one else to help them out. Lonnie only ever "helped" when it benefited him, and it usually never did. There was nothing like a scolding from his mother to remind him that he was still just a teenager trying to act like he was an adult. His mom did the same thing, though, didn't she? Act like she was all alone in this world? Maybe he was more like his mother and less like his father than he thought. He had been just as determined to save Will as she had been, and maybe that's why she was so worried. There's nothing like watching a piece of yourself running around in your jeans to scare the hell out of you. As he hugged his mother, he couldn't help but smile into her shoulder.

"I want to finish what we started," Nancy said. "I want to kill it."

And suddenly, they were in his house, preparing to kill the monster, the demogorgon, so Hopper and Joyce could go into the Upside Down to rescue Will. Jonathan hated leaving the kids, but he hated the idea that Nancy would be facing the monster alone. So, they left them. Of course, he didn't factor in Steve Harrington showing up to apologize and then to help. He wasn't surprised when Steve left, a little disappointed, but not surprised, and then he just had to come back in. . .he had to be gallant and brave. . .like a fucking prince out of a storybook. He had the hair for it. Just like that, he felt a wave of affection for the man, which he tried to deny over and over again since Steve picked up the bat.

"This is stupid," Jonathan muttered.

He was standing outside of Steve’s house. After spending two days by Will's side, Jonathan decided that he should really check on Steve after beating the shit out of him, especially since Steve risked it all to save his life. He wanted to check in on Nancy, too, but after what happened with Mike and the "agents" showing up to her house, she was on lockdown with her family. He couldn't get the look in Steve's eyes out of his head. . .when Jonathan had him on the ground and Steve had stopped fighting back. Steve had wanted him to hit him because he had realized what he had said. . .what he had done. Much like Jonathan had come to the realization that he had been a dick to Nancy as soon as those words had come out of his mouth. Jonathan liked to pretend that he was better than other people, but was he really? Who was Jonathan really punching in that alleyway? Steve or himself? He was tired of all the introspection. Jonathan had turned around to leave when the door opened.

"Jonathan?!" Steve yelled.

He turned around to find Steve looking frazzled. He was holding the bat in his hands. His hair was wild, his clothes were in a state of disarray, and it looked like he hadn't slept.

"Uh, hey," Jonathan said.

"Is something wrong?" Steve asked. "Is it Nancy? Oh god, it's back."

"What?! No, man, relax," Jonathan said. "I just wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine," Steve said.

"Clearly," Jonathan said dryly, and Steve snorted. "I just felt bad about, you know, hitting you."

"I deserved it," Steve said.

"You deserved one but not me nearly killing you," Jonathan said. "You look like shit."

He really did. His bruised face was definitely worse than it had been before. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his other eye had been fucked up by the rings that Jonathan had forgotten he had worn. His lip was split.

"Thanks, man," he said. "Look, I'm really sorry for the shit that I said. None of it was true, and it was really shitty of me to say all that, especially with everything that had been going on."

"Yeah, it was really shitty of you but it's not like you're the only one that's fucked up. I wasn't particularly nice to Nancy when she cornered me about the photos," Jonathan shrugged.

"So, we're both assholes," Steve scoffed.

"Pretty much, but you know, what teenager isn't?" Jonathan asked. "It's hard enough, but to add all this on top of it. You can't really know how you're going to react in the moment. . .in any moment. I think we all surprise ourselves."

"Yeah," Steve said softly.

"I think we both know that Nancy deserves better than that," Jonathan said. "And I think we both deserve better than to act like that."

"I don't want to be like my father," Steve said.

"I don't want to be like mine, either," Jonathan replied. "I'm sorry about the photos."

Steve smiled a sort of crooked smile, his hazel eye lightning up genuinely. He still looked dead tired, though.

"You want to hang out?" Steve asked.

Jonathan had another realization. Steve looked tired because he hadn't slept because no one was here, and Steve didn't want to be alone.

"Uh, where are your parents?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh, they extended their trip, which means that Dad fooled around again, and he has to make it up to Mum," Steve said.

"You call her 'mum'?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, she's British, so. . .," Steve said.

"I didn't know that," Jonathan said.

"Most people don't. She moved here when she was young," Steve said.

"So, you're alone?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, it's nothing that I'm not used to," Steve said. "So, do you want to hang out?"

It hit Jonathan to the core. He had convinced himself of that so many times that he was used to feeling alone and that it wasn't a big deal. His mother had no choice, not really, but Steve’s mother did, and she chose his father over over him. Jonathan was so grateful to Joyce then for choosing him and Will over Lonnie. Jonathan hoped she'd come to the realization that both her and Steve deserved better than that. Maybe there was still time for that, and Jonathan wanted that for Steve.

"I mean, I wish I could, but I wasn't planning on leaving my brother and mother home alone for long," Jonathan said, and then he had a thought. "You want to hang out at my house?"

"Yeah! Yes!" Steve exclaimed.

There was a huge sigh of relief as Steve’s shoulders relaxed. It must have been terrifying all by himself over here with no one to call, not even Tommy and Carol anymore. How paranoid did he get? Did he feel like something or someone was watching him? Did he jump at every shadow? It probably hadn't helped that Jonathan had lurked in the bushes, taking intimate photos of Nancy in Steve's bedroom. While Jonathan had nightmares, he also had his mother and brother. Nancy and Mike couldn't tell their parents what happened, but they knew enough to be there for their kids. Steve didn't have anyone.

"Goddamnit," Jonathan cursed.

"What? Did you change your mind?" Steve asked.

Jonathan shook his head. He didn't try very hard to deny his attraction to Steve, but he could feel stirrings in his chest. He was developing feelings for Steve Harrington. God, he was such a hypocrite. Although he had apologized now, he was the suburban girl who thought she was rebelling.

"No, I just remembered something. You ever not like something because everyone else likes it, and then suddenly, you tried it now you're starting to like it," Jonathan said. "I was just thinking about that."

"Hm, yeah, totally. Everyone I knew liked pineapple on pizza, but I thought it was, like, I don't know. . .blasphemy?" Steve asked. "But then I tried it, and I realized it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. What were you thinking of?"

"Mushrooms," Jonathan blurted out, blushing.

"Oh, I love mushrooms!" Steve exclaimed. "Alright, I'm ready, let's go!"

"You don't have shoes, man," Jonathan laughed. "Or pants."

"Right," Steve said.

"You should probably pack a bag, too. I don't think my mom's going to let you leave when she finds out that your parents are gone," Jonathan said.

Jonathan expected to see cartoon dust clouds in Steve's wake as he had taken off so fast. He came back just as quick with the nailbat still in his hands along with a bag. He was flipping his keys in his hands. Jonathan noted that he was quite eager to leave the house. Maybe it was the mixture of bad memories: his parents leaving, the monster that prowled in the woods, Barb dying in his pool. . .Jonathan understood why he wanted to leave. His house wasn't much better, but at least there were more people there. Jesus, he looked exhausted. Jonathan grabbed his keys.

"Hey!"

"You are not driving in your condition," Jonathan said.

"I'm fine," Steve said.

"We're taking my car," Jonathan said.

He helped Steve into the passenger seat and threw his stuff into the back. Jonathan slid into the driver's seat and found Steve smiling at him. God, this is not what he came over for.

"Thanks for doing this," Steve said. "I didn't want to be alone."

"None of us did," Jonathan said, and he took Steve’s hand as he drove off.

Why the hell did he take Steve’s hand? Jonathan focused on the road. He didn't want to let go, and neither did Steve. At the next stop light, he looked over at Steve and found that he was fast asleep. His entire body had finally relaxed when he felt safe. He felt safe enough with Jonathan to finally fall asleep. Jonathan squeezed his hand and drove to his house. He hated to wake Steve, but he couldn't carry him inside. He gently woke him up and Steve smiled softly at him, blinking sleepily. He rubbed his eye and yelped. Jonathan tried not to laugh and helped him out of the car. With Steve's bag in hand, he pushed Steve gently into the house.

"Hey, mom! I brought home a stray!" Jonathan called out to Joyce.

"Asshole," Steve said affectionately and Jonathan laughed.

"Again?!" Joyce asked from the hallway. "You haven't done that since you were four and you thought that baby opossum was very ugly kitten. . .Oh, hey, Steve."

"I made a friend," Jonathan shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"Okay, you brought home an opossum, and you thought it was kitten? That's adorable," Steve said.

"Shut up, I was four," Jonathan replied. "Mom, you don't mind if Steve stays here for a little bit, do you? His parents still aren't home, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't slept in a couple of days."

"Of course," Joyce said. "Where are your parents?"

"I don't know, they were in Boston for a conference, but my mom walked in on him with another prostitute again so he's making it up to her," Steve shrugged. "They extended the trip, I don't know for how long this time, they usually tell me."

"How often does this happen?" Joyce asked, looking at him in concern.

"I'm used to it," Steve shrugged and Joyce's frown deepened.

"Well, if Jonathan wants to, you can sleep in his room," Joyce said.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother," Steve said.

"You saved my boy, you can stay as long as you want," she replied, touching his arm softly.

Jonathan watched as Steve's eyebrows furrowed and he could almost tell what he was thinking. Joyce could too. Is what a present mom is supposed to be like? Joyce squeezed his arm, looking at him in sympathy. Suddenly, there came a loud bark, and Chester came barreling into the living room. He nearly knocked Steve over.

"Chester!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Puppy!" Steve laughed and collapsed onto the floor. "Oh, my dad never let me have a dog as a kid. I've always wanted one or a cat. I'm not picky. Oh, he's so cute."

"Chester, calm down a little bit," Jonathan laughed as his dog licked Steve’s face.

"Oh, he's just trying to make my owies feel better," Steve giggled as Chester licked his face.

"Yeah, we thought for sure that the Demogorgon had gotten him, but he ended up finding his way home," Jonathan said.

"He's smart, he knows how good he has it," Steve grinned.

"Well, why don't we get you to bed, I'll wake you up when food's here," Joyce said.

Jonathan made sure that Steve got into his bed and threw the blanket over him. Chester had immediately jumped up on the bed and snuggled into Steve's side. It didn't take long for Steve to finally fall asleep. He walked out of the bedroom and went to check on Will, who was also taking a nap. He stared at him for a moment, thankful that Will was alive and safe. Jonathan found his mother in the kitchen, and he hugged her tightly.

"Have I ever thanked you for always fighting like hell to be here for us?" Jonathan asked.

"No," she replied.

"Thank you," Jonathan whispered. "I'm glad we have you."

Jonathan couldn't bear the thought of not having Will or Joyce in his life or Nancy and Steve now. He always thought that he wanted to be alone, but maybe what he was afraid of was making an actual connection with people. Now, he was afraid of losing it all, especially Hopper.

"I love you, honey," Joyce said.

"I love you, too," Jonathan said.

Steve had settled in pretty quickly. Jonathan could tell that he had loved it here and that everyone else loved having him there. It was eventually time for them all to go back to school, and Steve was still staying with them as his parents were still not back. Jonathan had been right; Joyce hadn't wanted him to stay on his own. She refused to let him leave, and Steve was determined to help out. As they sat around the breakfast table, Will had to speak up.

"Mom! If we keep Steve, does that mean he'll be our brother?" Will asked.

"Oh God, no!" Steve and Jonathan exclaimed.

"I mean, maybe you as a brother but I definitely wouldn't want to call Jonathan that," Steve said.

"Why?" Will asked.

"No reason," Steve said blushing.

"Will, sweetheart, eat your breakfast," Joyce said and she smiled knowingly over at them.

Will looked suspiciously at them for a moment before dropping bacon on the floor for Chester. After breakfast, Steve walked out the door with the Byers. He was less surprised when Joyce hugged him along with her sons. It wasn't like the first time when he had frozen up for a moment.

"Are you sure about going to school?" Joyce asked.

"Mom, I can't stay home forever," Will said. "I want to go to school."

"Okay, but if you need anything, call me, okay?" Joyce asked. "Steve and Jonathan are right next door if you need them."

"Yes, mom, I know where the high school is," Will said in amusement. "I just want to get back to normal."

"Well, you can't rush these things, okay," Joyce said. "And it might not go back to the way things were after what happened."

"Mom," Will sighed. "I'll be fine."

"It's just so soon," Joyce said.

Will hugged Joyce tightly and slipped into the front seat of Jonathan's car. Steve gladly entered the back seat, waving at Joyce as he did so. Jonathan blasted the radio, the three of them singing loudly with the music. Steve sang very off-key on purpose, making them all laugh. Jonathan knew eventually that Steve would have to go home, but he hoped it wasn't anytime soon, but at the same time, he wished that Steve’s mom would come to her senses. From what he told Jonathan, there's still a part of Evie Harrington that could be a good mom. . . If she just let Richard go. Steve really loved his mother. Jonathan loved having him here, and Will loved having him here. He fit so perfectly, and maybe that was because there was a part of Steve that was like Jonathan.

"He'll be okay," Steve said.

Jonathan was leaning against his car, watching Will walk off with his friends.

"I know, I can't help but worry," Jonathan said.

"You are your mother's son, which I think is so cute," Steve said, and Jonathan blushed. "Look, you have a free period. Maybe they'll let you check on him. And I have a free period, and I'll check on him, too."

"Can't do that forever," Jonathan said.

"Well, no, but Will's smart enough to understand that it's going to be weird for a while," Steve said and nudged his shoulder. "Hey, Nancy's coming this way. . .how's my hair?"

"Perfect as usual. . .how's mine? Wait. . .I don't care," Jonathan muttered.

"Yeah, you do," Steve said in amusement. "And your hair always looks good."

Nancy approached them, looking surprised to see them together.

"Steve, did you come here with Jonathan?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, we're friends now," Steve said with a goofy grin. "Plus, I'm staying with him and his family right now. Jonathan was worried about me."

"I showed up to his house, and he hadn't slept for two days," Jonathan said. "I had every reason to worry!"

"You didn't?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, I got scared and paranoid. I jumped at every shadow. Jonathan took me home with him," Steve said with a smile.

"Yeah, the nightmares have been awful," Nancy said. "Your parents still aren't back?"

"Nope," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's better this way. I'm grateful to Jonathan for letting me stay with him. I made sure to show my appreciation the next morning in bed."

"You - you did?" Nancy asked, her eyes wide.

"What?"

"Steve, think about what you said," Jonathan whispered.

"Oh! Nancy Wheeler, get your mind out of the gutter," Steve grinned. "I made Jonathan breakfast in bed. I also made some for Joyce and Will."

"I wasn't - I mean - ," Nancy said, blushing.

"It's okay, Nance, I would have gone there, too," Steve said, winking at Jonathan.

Jonathan's blushed deepened as he thought about all the times he woke up in bed with Steve, curled up in his arms. Now, as he gazed at Nancy, he suddenly wished that she had been there, too.

"So, your parents finally released you?" Jonathan asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I didn't think they ever would," Nancy scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Especially Mike. They didn't appreciate him hiding a girl in their basement, but they're surprisingly not too hard on him. I think they've both picked up on the fact that he's upset about something."

"Can't imagine losing the first girl you ever really liked," Jonathan said and stared at Nancy.

"I'm trying to be there for him, but I don't know how," Nancy said.

There was silence between them all, as they thought about everything that occurred. They stared at each other, gazing into each other's eyes. No one knew what to say or do about any of it, but maybe they could figure it out together. They didn't have to have all the answers right now, but maybe they didn't have to be alone while they searched for them. Nancy slipped her arms through Steve and Jonathan's as they walked into the school, ready to face whatever came their way.

[slytherinshalo]

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐑

serial killer!Tom riddle x serial killer!zania malfoy

“Run rabbit, run rabbit” zania say as she walks through the forbidden forest looking for her new target. She and her boyfriend had a thing going, they would find a new victim to kill, to torture, they never kill the innocent only the ones that deserve it.

“Have fun, pretty boy” zania says to her boyfriend Tom, allowing him to hunt their victim, their prey. After a few minutes he returns with the boy, Cormac Mclaggen.

Cormac the school’s piece of shit, the headmaster won’t do anything about him so we will. He harassed girls who clearly didn’t want him, he deserves it.

“Oh Cormac, you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this” zania says while twirling her knife around in her hand, walking closer, stalking him. She had the most sinister smile on her face, as the thought of torturing Cormac ran through her mind she only got more excited, the sounds of his screams in pain, the smell of fresh blood, the feel of the knife tearing into his flesh only made zania more impatient.

Finally making her way to him, she started running the knife along his neck along the most fatal artery, his carotid artery. So after getting bored she moved the to his aorta artery, causing him to shutter in fear knowing that if she servers this artery it can cause catastrophic bleeding and if not treated immediately it can be fatal.

She moved the knife lower, right on top of his dick, stabbing him three times, before cutting it off and having Tom holding him down and shoving his severed dick down his throat. They laughed as Cormac started choking and gagging on his own dick, watching they saw his lips turning blue before Zania removed his dick from his mouth.

“Aww you look so cute chocking and gagging on your own dick” Tom chuckled at his girlfriend. “Doll are you gonna keep this” he asked while looking at Zania “of course it’s going to be put with the others” she said while smiling, until she looked down seeing what looked like an unconscious Cormac.

She slapped him before saying “hey, hey no dying yet rabbit” slapping him a second time, before sending a shock through his body waking him up.

“Please let me go, i’ll never harass another girl again I swear” Cormac said through harsh gasp trying to regain his breath. Tom and Zania just laughed knowing that he wouldn’t harm anyone ever again, because they were going to kill him.

“Aww you poor poor rabbit, you’re never going to harass another girl again because you’ll be dead”

“Wait wait wait please no no no please, I’m sorry please-” before Cormac could finish his pleases and begging zania stabbed him.

“Merlin shut up!” Zania yelled stabbing Cormac in the chest before ripping the knife out again. His screams were like music to her ears.

“Fuck you, you crazy bitch, my-“ before he could finish his sentence Tom slit his throat, angry that someone would dare to insult his girlfriend.

“my-my father—will—hear-about this” Cormac said through his gurgling and chocking on his blood.

“Alright you draco wannabe, you’ll never be my brother, but yea your father will hear about this when you get to hell” Zania said before kicking his body down the hill watching his body roll and tumble over sharp rocks, and twigs.

“Doll, what’s wrong” Tom asked while grabbing zania’s chin. “The fun is over now” zania said with a pout. Tom just chuckled and shook his head, “it’s not funny tommy” zania said “would it make you feel better if I found another guy for you to kill?” “Can I add his dick to my collection?” “Of course doll” Zania squealed with excitement and kissed Tom on the lips before turning on her heels and skipping away back to the castle to add her new trophy to her collection.