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the-witty-pen-name · 2 days ago

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The Love Triangle from Hell (2)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: After the events of PART ONE, Robin goes shoe shopping; Steve's mental health is in shambles; Nancy is trying to save her relationship; you're feeling lost; and Eddie is trying to be the bigger person.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: Thank you all so so much for all the love you have been showing to part one. You all had me so motivated to write this next part for you. I never manage to get things written this quickly, it's insane. So much appreciation to you all who took the time to read and let me know how you liked it- the comments and reblogs mean so much to me! Thank you!

Please let know who you think our girl should end up with ;)

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

You didn’t ever think about a future in which you didn’t feel the way you felt about Steve. It was something that you always viewed as this absolute truth. It was unavoidable. The sun would rise and fall and you would love Steve Harrington. But now, the world feels like it’s crashed, burned and raised from the ashes. A new reality- a new future to be written. Maybe, just maybe, you would see a future for yourself without Steve. It was such a simple thought- but you couldn’t have seen it before.

While you’re coming to terms with your new reality that Eddie tore open with both hands, Steve feels the weight of the crash all around him. It’s everywhere, more specifically, you’re everywhere. He felt like he’s lost everything. In her reconciliation with Jonathan, Nancy pulled Steve aside that night and said she thought it best if they don’t hang out for awhile. He nodded, jaw tightened, but he understood.

Eddie isn’t not talking to him, but there’s awkward tension in the apartment. They both pretend that it isn’t there but the air is thick with it. The proverbial beans have been spillt. Eddie’s in love with you, and Steve shouldn’t care about it as much as he does. Eddie goes about his days padding around the house. He’ll strum guitar and clean the kitchen and go on like nothing happened. Steve’s been avoiding him, not knowing at all what to say. There isn’t anything to say- not really. But still, the walls between them are undeniably there.

Robin is all Steve has to confide in right now, telling her all about how he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past few weeks since the night of what they’ve been calling “the incident.” He tells her everything- his confusion in his feelings towards you, the way he misses his friendship with Nancy, his irrational harbouring resentment toward Eddie. He tells her all of it. She listens and doesn’t judge- well, maybe she does judge. But, it’s coming from a place of love!

“What do you think?” she asks, stomping around in circles. She looks down at the new Adidas on her feet, thinking about how dirty the white sneakers are going to get almost immediately. Steve is sitting on the little bench in the shoe store with his head in his hands. “I hate them,” she complains, “I hate new shoes. I hate buying jeans. It all sucks.”

Like a parent would, Steve leans down and presses his fingertips down on the toe of the shoe. “These are too small,” he points out. He turns to the box at his side, handing her the next size up. “These will probably feel better.” She snatches the show from his hand, kicking off the pair she’s wearing.

“Fucking Munson,” she scoffs. “New fucking shoes,” she mutters, bending over to slide the next pair on. Steve smirks to himself when he sees the relief wash over Robin’s face. It’s the undeniable look of pure comfort. “Oh,” she says shyly, “these feel really nice.”

“What am I gonna do?” he asks, disheartened looking up at Robin. She sighs, pushing the empty box next to him on the floor so she can take its place.

“What do you want?” she asks, “Do you actually like her?”

“I might,” he admits, “I don’t know! I haven’t thought about her that way before. I could see it, maybe.”

“I don’t think you should do anything,” Robin advises, “Just sort out all the shit in your head. You are only just beginning to let yourself get over Nancy- jumping into a mess between your best friends is not the thing to do right now. Sort yourself out- get some Vitamin D, eat a vegetable- do something besides sit in your room and sulk.”

“I’m here now,” he tries to argue and Robin scoffs.

“You’re here cause you ran out of excuses when you kept cancelling on me,” Robin points out. She looks at her feet one more time. She then looks to Steve with a look of absolute utter defeat. “I think I’m gonna get these.” She gets up and kicks them off. Steve watches as she puts them back in the box. “I’m not gonna wear them around Eddie though,” she says with a scoff, heading towards the register like she got the one up on him.

Eddie remembers the first time he saw you. He’d been reflecting back on it a lot the past few weeks after everything that has happened. He’s having trouble wrapping his head around how he got from there to here. What was a innocent high school crush has blossomed into such an intense love that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The feeling is almost too big for him to carry- which is probably the reason for his outburst that night.

It has been Eddie’s junior year, making it your sophomore year. You’d been in the drama club and occasionally rehearsal would run late- meaning Hellfire would start late since they used the Theater room as well. Usually, Drama Club rehearsed Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday- making the room available for Hellfire on Friday. However, as productions got closer to the opening night, theater kids and band geeks would end up flocking to the room for Hell Week- extra rehearsals, last minute set adjustments, all running out the clock to the big night. It would run into Fridays, pushing Hellfire back despite Eddie reserving the room. The one thing he actually did to follow the rules.

You felt ridiculous in your costume. Your Juliet dress had you sticking out when you weren’t in the midst of the sets and reciting your lines. The long fabrics of the Renaissance inspired costume followed behind you as you darted from one side of the school to the other. You needed last minute fixes to the hem of your dress and the veil of your head crown. You only a few minutes before you were expected at rehearsal, left with no choice to run from the home ec classroom to the theater.

Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stood begrudgingly behind the stage, too stubborn to find another location for their meeting. He swears that you ran by him in slow motion to make your cue. Like a runaway bride from his fantasy novels, it was like you were plucked from one of his fantasies and graced his world with your presence. He was enamored. You looked exactly like a princess. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Gareth had elbowed him to snap him out of it. He knew from that moment when he looks back, he was in love with you. He rubbed his ribs where he was struck and stayed hidden backstage to watch the whole performance.

Steve can’t even remember the first time you met. You were something that was always there, and something he’s realized now that he’s taken for granted. You remember, you remember it all. It was still so vivid to you. It was a start to your everything.

Kindergarten was an overwhelming experience for Steve. Specifically drop-off, but he doesn’t remember now. You remember waiting with your mom and you held her hand tightly, while you waited for your teacher to escort you and your new classmates into school. You noticed Steve, across the play yard, but your head tilted in confusion that he was without a grown-up to send him off.

You immediately shook yourself free from your moms embrace and skipped confidently over to the little boy.

“Do you wanna be best friends?” You asked abruptly, it was all you needed. The simplicity of making friends when your six is a beautiful thing. He nodded, and you took his hand in yours so he didn’t walk in alone. The two of you were inseparable ever since. Until high school rolled around and changed everything.

The Steve you knew was different than the Steve that ruled the halls of Hawkins High back in the day. When it was the two of you, it was like how it always was. But at school, it was like he was an entirely new person. Reinvented and repackaged, King Steve’s reign was legend. Had it not killed you a little inside, you’d have been impressed.

Nancy offered to get lunch together with you shortly after the incident. She valued your friendship and wanted to clear the air. You felt the same. Your feelings towards Steve never hindered how highly you thought of Nancy. The two of you became friends amidst the era of King Steve, shortly before they began dating.

“I wanted you to know that had I known,” Nancy says, stirring the milk in her coffee, “I would have never went out with Steve.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Nance,” you reassure her. “You liked him and he liked you back, of course you guys should have dated. I don’t resent that- I just… I don’t know.”

“I don’t want this to affect us,” she reiterates.

“It won’t, it hasn’t- honestly,” you reply sincerely. “I never hated you. I can’t lie and say I wasn’t very jealous- because I was, still am a little maybe. It wasn’t because of you- it was just because it wasn’t me.”

“I understand,” she comforts you. You both share a smile and you appreciate her for coordinating this sit down. It felt good to confide in her. It was something you shouldn’t have bottled up and dealt with alone. Talking with Nancy felt like taking breaths of fresh air.

You’d walked home after lunch, declining Nancy’s offer for a ride. The cafe was close enough to your and Robin’s apartment that you could manage without getting too cold. Trudging up the front steps, you had your hood up to keep yourself warmer. It also hindered your vision so you didn’t see the figure on the front porch swing until you were right at your front door.

“Steve?” You ask, taken aback. You didn’t expect to see him- though you supposed he’d be wanting to talk about it all eventually. You sigh, bracing yourself for the one conversation you absolutely did not want to have.

“Hey,” he shivers, keeping his hands bunched into his jacket plackets.

“Come on up,” you offer, unlocking your front door. He graciously accepts, darting in out of the cold as fast as possible. He had to have been waiting awhile. “Robin is at work right now, but you can wait for her,” you say, as you both make it to the top of the stairs to your third floor apartment.

“I came to see you, actually,” he admits.

“I was afraid of that,” you joke, and it makes you a little happy when he chuckles. You both know how hard this conversation is going to be.

You both shrug off your warm layers and leave them in the entry way. You kick off your boots and shove your hat and gloves into the sleeve of your jacket. You try your best to tame your hair. You walk with your arms crossed and take a seat on your couch. Steve tentatively follows and sits on the opposite end. You both sit in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.

“How long?” He finally asks, and you can’t help but cringe. It felt so impersonal, and like a subtle attack. Like you were in the wrong for keeping something from him. He sounds hurt.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, your face in your hands. “Probably at least since we were in like second grade, maybe.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he questions, and you feel dejected.

“I don’t know- maybe cause you dated someone new constantly,” you accuse, flipping it back to him. You weren’t going to take the blame for this. “When we got to high school, you pursued so many girls- you were on a date every weekend! When did you expect me to say when you showed interest in literally everyone but me? Do you expect me to say I should’ve said something when you were with Nancy?”

“No… shit, I don’t know,” he mumbles. He had no right to be upset, you resolved. “I just, I feel bad that you didn’t think you could tell me.”

“I couldn’t risk losing you,” you admitted. “I’d much rather be heartbroken with you in my life than heartbroken without you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he’s not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet. “I just- fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

You both sit there, quietly, looking anywhere except each other. You bite the inside of your mouth nervously, you don’t know what to say. You notice he’s not saying I was so stupid. I love you, I always have. You’ve learned the hard way by now to not expect that from him. You can’t let your expectations of him dictate the future of your friendship.

“It’s okay, you know,” you finally say across the silence. “I don’t want you to think this changes anything.”

This changes everything! He wants to exclaim. You’re right there, closer than you’ve been in weeks. Yet you still feel so far away, so unattainable. He feels as though you’re treating him like a stranger, and he hates feeling like this.

“I’m not in love with Nancy,” he confesses. “I thought it was what I wanted, but now I don’t know what I want.”

“Don’t give me false hope to make me feel better, Steve,” you sigh. “That’s not fair.”

Robin bursts through the door in a whirlwind of chaos. She’s shedding her layers as she recounts a terrible interaction she had with a customer at work. She kicks off her Adidas, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack and she lets her jacket lay on the floor for now.

“Anyways, this guy starts yelling at me because he didn’t like Risky Business like I wrote and starred in the damn thing so I’m like ‘Sir, I didn’t make the movie’ and then he gets he gets even more pissed that won’t give him a free rental. I can’t do that! What makes him think I can just wave a magic wand a pull a perk like that out of my- oh fuck. H-hey Steve…. I didn’t know you were here.”

He stands up abruptly, “I was just leaving.” Before either you or Robin have a chance to say anything else. He’s stumbling over putting on his shoes and falling into his jacket on the his way quickly out the door.

“What the hell was that?” Robin asks, turning to you.

“I have no idea.” You say earnestly.

“He’s so fucking stupid I swear to god,” she rolls her eyes and heads past you into the kitchen. She decided to keep her commentary at that. You escape to your room so you can process what the hell just happened.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Steve hits his palms against his steering wheel in frustration. “SHIT!”

He completely fucked that up.

When you had a problem of this measure that bothered you, you’d call Steve. Or, you’d call Eddie. Neither option is one you felt was viable right now. You didn’t want to annoy Robin with it anymore than you’d had already- you’re sure she’s sick of everyone going to her. You have a bad habit of assuming you’re a burden when your anxiety spikes like this.

“Hey, Nance. I, uh, was just calling to-“

“Steve, please- we talked about this.”

He knew this was going to happen. But he couldn’t stop himself as he dialed her number. He knew he was supposed to stay away and give her and Jonathan space. How is he supposed to move on when he lost the one person he could call to talk about this? Steve felt Nancy understood him better than anyone- or at least at one point she did.

She hangs up before Steve gets a chance to say anything. He drops the receiver back onto the base. He lays back on the couch and takes some slow breaths. He can’t imagine that you all ended up here. After everything you all survived, this is what’s pulling you all apart.

Why the fuck did he call Nancy? Deep down he knows he wants to just talk to you but he just can’t right now. His brain is too congested with everything that’s come to light and it’s all such a scary, unfamiliar plane. Nancy is his familiar- it’s what he knows. He’s realizing maybe he didn’t actually pine for Nancy but instead he was yearning for that stability he once felt. He’s mourning the time for when it felt like he had absolutely everything.

It hits him all at once- like a huge wave that knocks you out when you’re bracing yourself to jump. He wanted it all back- fucking King Steve. Not the parties and the fucking assholes. He wanted to feel that way again. He wanted how he felt when he had a girlfriend who loved him and close friends he could walk the halls with. He missed when his life felt easy and he missed how easy it feels now compared to this. He wanted his life back- it wasn’t Nancy that he wanted- not really. He wanted to feel that way again and he was mourning his youth despite the imperfections.

He thought of you again, as he turned his body to stare at the phone. He knows he should call, and do his best to make you feel better. He needed you to understand that he understands so much more now than he did. The bigger picture is revealing itself more to him and he actually fucking gets it. Out of everything that has changed, you never did. It all feels so painfully obvious now. How could he have not seen it?

“Sup, man,” Eddie says casually, coming home from work. Taking off his jacket reveals that his coveralls are covered in a huge grease stain. Kicking off his work boots, he doesn’t wait for Steve to reply as he heads to the bathroom to shower. “You wanna get Chinese tonight?” he calls from the other room. Steve gulps and sits up, trying to shake himself out of it.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from the bathroom and steam from his shower wafts out into the hallway.

“We’re good, right?” Eddie asks. He wants to say yes. Eddie did nothing wrong and Steve deep down knows it. He knows his resentment he’s harbouring is completely unfair- but it is running down to his core.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Steve says, trying his best to fake it. They aren’t good. Steve doesn’t know if they’d ever be good. Eddie knows it too. He knows Steve too well to know that he isn’t actually good. Eddie doesn’t fight it.

“I’ll get over it,” Eddie said. “Well, that’s a fucking lie. But, I can tell myself I can get over it.” Steve looks at him, confused. “If you and her want to be together, if you like her back- I’ll step down.”

“Why are you even saying that?”

“Because I want her to be happy more than anything else, and if I’m not that guy- I’m just getting in the way of that,” he confesses, and Steve can hear the hurt in his friend’s voice. “If you actually want to go for it- I’m not what’s stopping you, man.”

The phone breaks through the solemn moment the two of them share. Eddie looks to Steve and Steve shrugs before picking up the receiver.

“Hello?” He says, and he smiles to himself as he recognizes the voice on the other end. Then, Eddie watches as his friend’s face falls again- all in a brief few seconds. “It’s for you,” he says, dropping the receiver on the table for Eddie to get. Steve disappears down the hall and seeks refuge in his room.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey, it’s me,” he hears you say. Suddenly, Steve’s reaction makes a lot of sense.

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt

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secretmaniacc · 14 hours ago

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FILL THE VOID

Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.

Wc: 6.2k

A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3

For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her.

That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.

“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug.

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.”

He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him.

His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again.

But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it.

“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken.

He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.”

She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?”

His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.”

“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly.

He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.”

“You’re lying.”

She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I’ll still show up outside your door.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words.

“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear.

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.”

His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley”

“Excuse me?”

He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door.

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.”

As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story.

-----

She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs.

The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features.

As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary.

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside.

She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her.

“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel.

He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?”

She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination. He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.

The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation.

Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity.

Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past.

The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area.

The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance.

They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful.

“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?”

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?”

She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.”

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.”

“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.”

her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around.

“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity.

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..”

“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??”

“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.”

She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?”

“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?”

She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."

“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”

She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of.

When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.”

She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.”

He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”

The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.

When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.

“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.

“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.”

“How exclusive?” she pressed.

He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”

He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.

Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.

He couldn’t look away.

His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.

She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.

He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.

But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips.

“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite.

He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her.

“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze.

“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile.

She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered.

He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin.

“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased.

“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head.

He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.

He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.

She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”

She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”

His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”

“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”

Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”

She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.

“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed

The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.

Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”

“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”

Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.

“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”

The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”

Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.

“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”

With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.

They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.

“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.

“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”

Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.

“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”

The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.

“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”

She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.

“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,

He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.

As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.

“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.

Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”

A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”

With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”

He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,

“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken

“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.

She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.

“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.

“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.

filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.

“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.

His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.

She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.

“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.

“Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.

“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”

With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”

With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.

He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.

With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.

"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”

“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”

He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”

“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.

“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”

Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.

“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.

With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.

But all that followed was a click.

The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.

That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.

“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.

"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.

“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.

“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.

“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”

“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.

“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.

“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.

Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.

“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.

Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.

“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.

Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.

"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.

He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.

“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”

He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.

“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.

As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.

She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.

“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.

“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,”

But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.

“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.

A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.

He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.

“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.

Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.

“I’m gonna—"

“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.

“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.

“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.

“Beg if you wanna finish.”

“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.

“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.

Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.

He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.

"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.

"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.

He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.

They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.

part 1

#squid game #squid game smut #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game salesman #the salesman #the salesman x reader #salesman smut #gong yoo x reader #gong yoo #be nice #intimate #smut #i’ll cry

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yoonjae20 · 3 days ago

Text

Danny deeply distrusts the Justice League

Based on the wonderful @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.

I really feel like they aren't enough fanfics or prompts where Danny dislikes the Justice League — and continues to dislike them even after everything (Anti-Ecto Acts) is revealed and taken care of. (Or maybe I'm not looking in the right places — if you guys have any recommendations put them in the Tags or Comments!)

Read on ao3. Masterpost

After many years Danny has finally retired — sure he had to leave everything he loved and that was familiar to him behind for it, but it was worth it. He had a small little house that was his own, he would water his plants every morning and make small talk with his neighbors. Everything was fine.

Everything turns not so fine, when there’s a sudden knock on his door. Expecting it to be one of his neighbors — for example needing eggs or flour (a neighbor’s kid had needed eggs to bake one of her parents a cake and Danny had been more than willing to spare the few she needed) — he opens the door without a second thought.

Only to almost immediately want to close it again.

Because that’s the Justice League standing in front of his door. And that can mean nothing good.

Before Danny can slam the door closed, Superman‘s shoe slides in between the door frame, blocking his escape. The smile the man shoots him is probably meant to be reassuring, but the only thing Danny feels is dread.

To most civilians the Justice League is seen as a beacon of hope — but to Danny? He knows the bitter truth. When he needed them the most they turned his back on him before chasing him across half the globe calling him a villain without even hearing his side of the story. They handed him over the GIW for Ancient’s Sake. He would have died if it weren’t for Tucker and Sam. (He may not have scars to show for it but he can still feel his chest burn when he thinks back to it.) Not that they can remember that though. He still doesn’t trust them.

“You are Danny Fenton, correct?” Superman asks and Danny stiffens.

Fenton — not Nightingale like he has changed his surname into to escape his parents influence and leave everything behind.

“Yes,” he says warily — seeing no point in lying. Considering Batman is lingering behind Superman the Detective would figure it out instantly.

“And you used to be Amity’s Park’s vigilante Phantom?”

Danny grips the door frame, knuckles white. What’s their point? Are they trying to intimidate him?

“Yes,” he grits out.

“We were told that you are the one we should seek out in matters involving Ghosts and the Infinite Realms,” Superman continues, but Danny doesn’t let him finish.

“I’m retired,” he interrupts. “Find someone else.”

“There’s a world-ending event,” Superman says like that would convince Danny. Like Danny hadn’t lived though so many of them — had to prevent them from happening without anyone’s help every single time. Guilt-tripping much? “Even if you don’t want to fight — we need you as an advisor.”

Danny snorts, shaking his head.

“Go take up the matter with the Justice League Dark then.”

Danny moves to close the door, but still Superman’s foot doesn’t budge. He could probably brute-force his way through this — but Danny’s tired and he’s not in the mood to explain to his neighbors why his door is broken and he needs to do repairs.

He glares at them and to his surprise Superman actually takes a step back — but still not enough to be able to close the door.

Danny hasn’t transformed into Phantom since he left Amity Park. Had kept that part of himself locked away — would have separated his Ghost Self from himself if he didn’t know he would be selfish for that. Had ignored his Obsession even if it screamed at him — had pushed it away in his Human Form even if it muted all the colors around him and it meant that every breath was a painful wheeze.

Faced with this situation he almost wants to break the promise he made to himself — but he can’t.

There is no GIW anymore — Danny had made sure of that. He had wiped all of their files and his parents published research with the help of Technus. He had dismantled both portals to the Ghost Zone and made sure no one would be able to replicate it. But Danny also knows the Justice League — knows how much Superman’s punches hurt, how it feels to get mind controlled — they could overpower him in an instant if he twitched as much as into the wrong direction.

He really doesn’t have a choice here, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t go out of his free will — they will force him with any means necessary, of that much he is sure.

His gaze trails to his neighbor’s house and the swing in their backyard. And if they are right and he turns them away — is he sure he won’t feel any guilt if something happens that he could have prevented? Sometimes Danny really hates his Martyr Complex.

Danny sighs, defeated.

“What do you need my help for?”

They had liked their new neighbor despite the fact that he barely left his house other than to water his plants. They had known that the young man was sickly. He looked like death wormed him over and was weak on his feet— his ice-blue eyes dull. His smile barely held any warmth in it.

Still they invited them over after he had given their daughter eggs to bake the cake for their birthday. They learned that he was kind and had escaped to their small village to live a quiet life.

When the young man came to tell them that he would be out of town for a few days and to please water his plants if they could, they were worried.

“Are you sure that you are fine, son?” they asked and touched the man’s forehead — but it was icily cold like the rest of their skin had always been. “You look even paler than usual.”

The young man had only given them a half-hearted smile and affirmed them that he was fine

Their daughter's excited steps had hurried behind them and she tugged on their pants after the man had left.

“Was that Uncle Danny?” the girl asked. “Can I play with him?”

They gave their daughter a weak smile.

“Uncle Danny is busy for a few days,” they explained. “Later, okay? How about you draw him a picture while we wait for him to come back? So he has something to look forward to?”

Their daughter nodded and raced back to the living room, searching for supplies, while they continued looking out of the window. They can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.

It’s unnerving how quiet the young man is.

There are no easy smiles, sassy quips and puns like from the few shaky phone videos they had pulled from the internet about Phantom.

He’s meticulous. Probably even more than Batman — and that is a statement. There had been a deep mistrust in the eyes when they had located him and asked him to help them. It’s evident in every step he makes. He double-, even triple-checks every single evidence, every single sentence, every single word they say.

Nothing is left unturned as he works the way though the situation like if he is dealing with a case. He never stops moving, always doing something — reading through heavy leather-bound books or through their reports. His heart rate is so slow that Clark sometimes wonders if the boy is still breathing at all.

When the young man had asked them if they spoke to the leader regarding the war declaration and the reasons behind them, he had clicked his tongue when they told him no.

He hadn’t let anyone help him when he drew out the summoning cycle — it looked even more intricate and complicated than they had seen from Zatanna or Constantine. When he had spoken the words for the spell, his words had sounded ancient and undescribable — hushed whispers following every single word. He clasped his hands and only opened his eyes when he spoke the last word, his eyes burning a deep green.

The cycle goes up in green fire before a form appears — Clark recognizes the Ghost from the declaration.

The man’s cold gaze sweeps over the Justice League before it stops on Phantom. He smirks, bowing his head slightly.

“I greet the Prince of the Infinite Realms.”

“Cut the crap Fright Knight,” Phantom's voice is steel-hard. “We both know I refused that position.”

The man tilts his head but nods.

“Very well,” he says. “I greet Phantom, savior of the Infinite Realms.”

Phantom grits his teeth like he wants to refuse that title too before he shakes his head. He gestures to the Justice League.

“Explain.”

“We are just paying back what has been done to us,” Fright Knight claims. “Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.”

“Life is short, art is long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult,” Diana translates for them.

“I see the Daughter of the Queen of the Amazons knows her arts,” the man’s voice has a hint of mockery. “Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. Ignorantia legis non excusat:”

Diana’s eyebrows knit together as she listens.

“Mankind is too greedy for lies. Ignorance of the law does not excuse,” her voice is almost a whisper.

“I would have thought you would know of this Phantom,” Fright Knight addresses the young man again. “But now seeing your state, you probably didn’t feel the call for the announcement either. Is there a reason why you are starving yourself?”

Phantom doesn’t meet any of their eyes as he answers.

“That is unimportant to this situation.”

Fright Knight’s lips twitch back into a grin.

“If the savior of the Infinite Dreams claims so, then I have no choice but to accept it.” He turns back to the Justice League. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”

“If you want peace, prepare for war.”

“When have we been ignorant?” Batman finally steps in.

Fright Knight huffs out a dark laugh.

“When has mankind not been ignorant?” Fright Knight questions. “When your government captured my brethren and tortured them, where were you? When they declared us as non-sentient and staged war against us, where were you? When they threatened to destroy our home, where were you?”

The man’s eyes seem to burn as he repeats himself.

“Where were you?”

Clark and the rest of the League are shocked to silence.

“Now that the danger has passed, why should we just forgive you? Why should we forget?” Fright Knight continues. “If we are not worthy enough to be counted towards mankind that means we just have to rewrite the rules. And since we were never given the chance to negotiate, that means by force.”

“The Meta-Protection Acts-”

“Only count towards those that are alive.” Fright Knight interrupts Batman. “After all, how can the dead feel any emotions such as pain? I’m sure if you ask your government they will hand you a lot of pretty reports on the biased experiments that prove so.”

“But that’s-” Clark starts but Fright Knight doesn’t let him finish.

“Despicable? When has that ever stopped mankind?” Fright Knight asks. “We can talk if there isn't a law that states that we can be eradicated without any consequences.”

Before either of them can stop him, Fright Knight swishes his cape made out of purple fire and disappears. Clark faintly asks himself if that is how other people feel when Batman does that in front of their noses.

Seeing no other option the entire League turns back to Phantom who hasn’t said a single word since the Ghost went on his tirade.

“Phantom-” Batman tries, but the young man’s eyes burn with so much hate that the normally stoic man stocks in his words.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Phantom seethes. “You heard him. Now finally do your jobs right for once.”

Then he leaves the room without a single glance back.

Clark gulps as they look at each other.

“I feel like we made a mistake.”

When the news declares the Anti-Ecto Acts as abolished, Danny feels nothing but exhaustion. The Justice League barely managed to avoid a large-scale — and very justified war.

Danny leans back tiredly on his sofa. His eyes trail to the drawing his neighbor’s daughter had given him and the first genuine smile in months graces his lips.

“What I don’t do for mankind,” he sighs before he closes his eyes.

#dc x dp #dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #justice league #danny meets justice league #danny is not the ghost king #yoonjae20 writing #yoonjae20 #fright knight #anti-ecto acts #dc x dp crossover

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woniedarlin · 14 hours ago

Text

He listens while you yap

pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope

caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)

author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!

HEESEUNG

You explained an article you found earlier, highlighted a point you found especially interesting. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence, glancing up at Heeseung.

He was just staring at you the entire time.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.

“I’m sorry,” you added, feeling guilty.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile that immediately put you at ease. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”

He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”

“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased, though you were shy with his words.

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”

You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”

You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”

Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”

He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”

JAY

You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.

Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.

Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.

“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”

“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.

“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”

Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”

“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”

Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”

Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”

“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”

Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”

“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”

And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.

JAKE

You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.

You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”

“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”

Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”

You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”

He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”

Jake smirked. “You totally would.”

“I’d be saving both of us!”

“You’re hot,”

You froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

Of course, he had to flirt.

You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”

“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.

SUNGHOON

You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”

Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”

You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.

But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”

You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”

“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”

Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”

“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”

That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?

He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”

Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”

SUNOO

“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.

“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”

“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”

You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!

“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”

Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”

Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”

You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”

JUNGWON

You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.

“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”

Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.

You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.

“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”

He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.

“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”

You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”

He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”

“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”

“Well, someone had to say it!”

Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”

You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”

NI-KI

You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”

You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”

Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”

Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.

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livinghalfway · 2 days ago

Text

Younger Years Pt. 4

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088

Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters.

“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer.

“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.”

“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.”

“Tim-”

“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this.

Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.

“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.”

He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury.

“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.”

Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them.

“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son.

It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.”

It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.”

“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something.

“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.”

“Jaylad-”

“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.”

He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.

So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it.

Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here.

It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers.

In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now.

“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”

“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.”

Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.”

“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.”

Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.”

After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been.

He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again.

“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave.

The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger.

At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?

Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself.

While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed.

Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.

Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light.

When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.

Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?”

No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”

Oh.

Oh no.

That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state.

“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best.

“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else.

Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”

Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”

His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?”

Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.”

For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence.

… 4 years ago …

“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dc x dp crossover #batfam #damian and danny are twins #danyal al ghul #angst #de-aged damian wayne

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magical-reid · 2 days ago

Text

A Fine Mess

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.1 K

Prompt: 5: “Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we’re dating?”

Summary: In 1943 Brooklyn, you’ve been friends with Bucky Barnes for as long as you can remember. When he interferes with your date, you’re determined to confront him—but the truth has a way of coming out in the most unexpected moments.

The night was one of those perfect Brooklyn summer evenings, the air warm but not stifling, carrying the faint scent of street vendor hot dogs and fresh-cut flowers from the bodega down the block. You adjusted the hem of your dress for the fifth time, staring down the street where Eddie Johnston had just disappeared, looking half-apologetic and fully confused.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we’re dating?”

Your voice cut through the quiet hum of the evening, sharp and incredulous, as you turned to face the culprit leaning against the stoop railing with all the smugness of a man who thought he could charm his way out of anything.

Bucky grinned like the cat that got the cream, arms folded and his suspenders hanging loose over his broad shoulders. “I mean… yeah. Technically, I might’ve said somethin’ like that.”

“Technically?” you snapped, climbing the steps to meet him face-to-face. “Bucky!”

“What?” He held up his hands in mock innocence, though his grin never faltered. “The guy didn’t seem like much fun anyway. Didn’t even laugh when I told him that joke about the two pigeons and the bread cart.”

Your mouth fell open. “You… you told him a joke before you lied to him about us?”

Bucky shrugged, his dark hair falling boyishly across his forehead. “Wanted to test his sense of humor. It’s important to you, isn’t it? A guy who can make you laugh?”

“Oh, so now you’re vetting my dates?” You jabbed a finger into his chest, ignoring the faint warmth that spread through your hand when you made contact. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” he said smoothly, like you’d just paid him a compliment.

“That wasn’t a—” You groaned, dragging your hand down your face. “Bucky, you can’t just go around scaring off guys like this! Eddie was nice, okay? He was polite, he was kind, and he didn’t deserve whatever you said to him!”

Bucky’s smirk faltered just slightly, his gaze softening. “He didn’t deserve it, huh?”

“No, he didn’t,” you said firmly.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before asking, “So, what’d you like about him?”

“What does that matter?” you huffed.

“It matters,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse stutter. “Because if you liked him so much, why’d you let me talk him into leavin’?”

Your breath hitched, but you quickly crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “I didn’t let you do anything, Barnes. You ambushed him. You didn’t give me a choice.”

“Maybe.” He took a step closer, his shoes scuffing softly against the stoop. “Or maybe you didn’t stop me because deep down, you didn’t really wanna go out with him.”

Your heart skipped, the warmth of his words sinking in before you could shove them away. “That’s ridiculous,” you said weakly.

“Is it?” His eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no teasing, no smirk—just Bucky, stripped of his bravado. “C’mon, doll. You know me better than that. You know us better than that.”

His words hit harder than they should have, the weight of them settling in your chest. For years, you’d told yourself that Bucky was just your best friend, the boy who walked you home and shared his sandwiches and made you laugh when the world felt like too much. But now, with the way he was looking at you, it felt like the truth had been waiting just beneath the surface all along.

You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “You—you don’t get to do this,” you said quietly. “You don’t get to swoop in and mess everything up just because you’re—”

“Because I’m what?” he asked, his voice soft and insistent.

“Because you’re scared to lose me,” you finished, meeting his gaze.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of a distant radio playing a swing tune. Bucky’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual quips. But then he exhaled, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

“You’re right,” he said. “I am scared. I’ve been scared for a long time.”

Your heart ached at the quiet vulnerability in his voice, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm. “Bucky…”

He looked at you then, his blue eyes impossibly soft. “The thought of you with someone else—of you fallin’ for someone who ain’t me—it drives me crazy, doll. And I know I screwed this up, and I know you’re mad at me, but if there’s even a chance that you might…”

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air like a wish.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, you stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him, and reached up to rest a hand against his cheek. His breath hitched at the touch, his lashes fluttering as he leaned into it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Barnes,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

His grin returned, bright and boyish, and he let out a soft laugh. “So, that a yes?”

“Don’t push it,” you said, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

But when his hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, you didn’t resist. And when his lips finally met yours, soft and warm and everything you’d been too afraid to admit you wanted, it felt like the world had finally snapped into place.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the faint sound of the radio mixing with the rhythm of your heart. When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s forehead rested against yours, his smile so wide it made your chest ache in the best way.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice teasing again, “if I knew it’d feel this good, I’d have scared off Eddie a lot sooner.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re mine,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice making your knees weak.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile matching his. “I guess I am.”

And for the first time, it felt exactly right.

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hottubdarling · 2 days ago

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“Where’s your God now?” - Luigi Mangione x reader smut based on this post ↓

creds to @cranberrydietcoke and @ninemillimeterangel

summary: you are spending your night studying at Luigi's place, but a conversation about you being a christian changes the route of your night

warnings: oral sex (fem), dirty talk, blasphemy ig, unprotected sex, creampie

English is not my first language!

Spending the night studying at Lu's apartment made you a little nervous, not because of the finals, but because of him. You were going there to study and do it alone with a guy felt so, so wrong. As a christian, it was crazy to think you were about to do something like that.

You rang the doorbell and waited for him. He opened the door and smiled at you. You two went to his bedroom and sat on the floor to start studying. Your heart raced when he closed the door.

He opened the biology book, and you two started doing some flashcards, asking questions to each other and discussing how the human body works.

“You know what? Our bodies are amazing. It’s hard to believe that the nature is capable to create something like this”

— That’s why i believe in God - you said.

He looked at you, like you were saying the craziest thing ever.

“How can you prove that? Have you ever seen Him?”

— No, but I can feel Him, that’s all that matters.

“Just because we have perfect bodies with perfect systems, it doesn’t mean there’s a divine creator behind everything, you know?”

“I feel Him, I can talk to Him, you don’t understand”

“The science is the truth, I truly don’t understand how can you believe in something that’s not proven when you have real facts in front of you”

His face was getting closer to yours at every single word, the wetness of his breath was driving you crazy.

“Why are you freaking out? Just because i wanna follow the God's plan?”

“What the fuck are you talkin' about? This is the real life, and you're wasting it, you could be having the best experiences, but you rather be caged to this belief”

You lay on his bed, sighing in depths of confusion, desire and disappointment.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, if you didn’t get all that you deserve.

he’s ecstatic at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, he sinks down beside you and pulls your body closer to his.

“you've no idea how often i loose my mind thinking about this, about how stupid you are for depriving yourself so much”

As more he talks, he gets rougher, his feelings seems ten times more intense, his hands hold you tighter. He unzips your white dress and starts kissing your neck aggressively, leaving hickeys everywhere.

“I wanna give you real experiences, you want this, don't you?"

leaving you completely naked, he notices the wet mess that was happening all over your legs.

“you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

feeling the wetness pooling between your legs, he presses his nose against your clit, you cry out gripping his shoulders tightly.

"oh fuck, luigi," you gasp, your nails scratching his back. He smiles at you with his head between your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“So, where is your God now? I can’t see Him, I can’t feel Him…”

“oh my…” you were loosing your senses, his hands sliding up your thighs,

“look at you, you don’t even know who are you praying to”

"i want you, luigi," you cry, "i want you so bad."

“i know, my love, i know,” he says, kissing the running tears down your cheeks. Whimpering underneath him, he fucks into you like he’s craving to see you crumble.

“you’re so good, so perfect and wet, I just can’t help myself.”

He throws you on the bed, and enters you hungrily. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me in the eyes, my love. You look so fuckin’ gorgeous with your legs spread.“

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely, you cry out as he hit that sweet spot inside you, he bites your neck while you’re crying against his chest.

“You’re so perfect, everything about you, I can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

“I want you. I want your cum inside me.”

his cock wildly moving inside your wet pussy, his dark eyes looking at your body with nothing but love, his hands tightly brushing against your waist.

"god, i'm gonna cum,"

You can't hold yourself any longer. you cum hard, your body shakes with pleasure, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his sweet cum.

He smiles at you, giving him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fluff #luigi mangione smut #free luigi #luigi my beloved #smut

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strnilolover · 2 days ago

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painter!matt and a reader,they were going together at the art school and classes but Matt became really good and the only time he had an inspiration to draw and paint was when he was with the reader. it was usually just the drawings of her and little sketches. she was suprised when she saw the room full of her portraits but then she became his muse 🙏🏽🤍

matt always said art was his outlet, a way to make sense of the world—something that brought him peace. he became really good overtime, surpassing you yourself. But the truth? he hadn’t felt inspired like his in years—until you had came along and showed your interest in him.

he didn’t mean to draw you at first. it just happened. a sketch on the corner of his notebook after you laughed at one of his stupid jokes, the curve of your smile taking shape beneath the lead of his pencil. a painting on an old canvas he’d abandoned months ago, your eyes somehow finding their way into every brushstroke.

before he knew it, his room became a gallery of you. charcoal sketches pinned to his wall, watercolors of your silhouette propped against the windowsill, oil paintings of your hands, your profile, the way you looked when the sunlight hit your hair just right. You were everywhere.

you’d never been in his room before—not having any reason to be. not until the day you wandered in, looking for him because you really needed his help on this project of yours. and you froze.

your eyes scanning the walls, seeing all these paintings and sketches of—you. you were taken aback, lips parting as you took in every single one.

“oh…” the word slipped out softly, and matt, who had been organizing his paints, quickly spun around—a panicked expression painted across his face.

“wait—i can explain,” he stammered, moving to block your view, but it was too late. your eyes had already scanned the walls, wide and stunned.

“matt…” your voice was quiet, reverent, as you stepped closer, fingers brushing over a sketch of you reading on the couch. “these are all… me?” you had never seen portraits so beautiful—and so, you.

he swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. it felt as though his ribs might just break. “yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “i didn’t mean for it to be weird or anything. i just… i don’t know. you’re the only thing that makes me want to create.” he muttered, face reddening as he spoke.

you turned to him, eyes soft, cheeks flushed. “i’m your muse?” you ask quietly, your mind still wrapping around this new found fact. matt chuckled nervously, his gaze dropping to the floor. “i guess you are.”

for a moment, you didn’t say anything. then you smiled, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “i think that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

he looked up, startled, only to find you grinning at him. matt realized his muse wasn’t just his inspiration—it was his reason— the reason as to why he still paints. why he enjoys it so much—because you’re someone he cares about. and now, you finally knew.

a/n : au pairing creds to @lockettesstage (go check her out cause her bunny!reader and fox!chris are my roman empire)

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smileybasics · 14 hours ago

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Defending @lil-liaa

I usually don’t post in this blog cause i have other ones but i don’t think this is being fair, me and Lia have been moots for a year and I have seen all her work over the years, I don't know a more creative person than her and I have been with her while she makes her moodboards by call and it is simply impressive the hours she invests in doing it, today I She wrote so devastated and we made a call talking, she has worked on this for so long, I remember how excited she was when she reached 1k, what I mean is that her community and her blog are very important to her, these people are accusing her because three Posts are similar to those of other blogs and that seems stupid to me since you have not even seen her other posts to know if she really makes an effort or not, Lia has made collages, dividers, banners, and a lot of other things, to she is really passionate about digital art and the only time she left her blog was because of the loss of a loved one and the truth is I don't care how many people are going to believe me after this post I just want them to leave her alone, here I am attaching some evidence...

This doesn’t even have so much in common just a three pics, in case you don’t know how moodboards are made, 2 or more colors are taken as a base and the images that best match the tones are searched on Pinterest, not only what she "copied" are just two photos but she also made a divider and a collage

Here’s just pinterest pics (proofs that are from pinterest in keep reading) and again i saw a lot of rude comments towards her that so unfair and hurt feelings cause considering how long Lia has been on her blog it's like invalidating all her hard work!!

In this post she even clarify that the divider isn’t made by her but the collage it is, also it’s just 2 pics that are similar!

This pictures are from pinterest, everyone can use it!

People bullying her

This doesn't just happen on the internet, but in real life, one of Lia's moots simply republished the post where they accused her of copying, she asked him/her why he/her did it so quickly, If they were supposed to be moots, if someone betrays you so quickly without questioning anything, they were never your friend and instead of responding privately she/him made a post just to make her/him moots laugh and the comments are gross, my god it's disgusting, this is directly bullying, if you are a thinking person and if you have ever had some kind of link you should try to talk something privately instead of calling the crazy girl and tagging all your moots so they can laugh, the worst thing is that you can tell that this girl only wants interaction because when she and Lia were chatting she threatened Lia with blocking her but then when Lia blocked her she made another post like "she blocked me" it's like, besides being a treacherous rat you can't have the decency to talk to her about it, Lia has been so nice to everyone but after all, this is where you can see who the ones who truly supported her are, and not the fake friends.

I'm not going to censor his/her username, he deserves it, tumblr is as much as real life, the importance of moots is like friends in real life, because if you want you can just harass someone and all your friends will laugh without question anything.

Also, Lia has a tutorial of a lot of things that she made! If she knows how to do it, why would she steal or copy from other blogs?

She has tutorials of gifs, texts, banners, etc, if she really stole and copy, why she knows how to do it by herself?, and if she knows how to do it by herself she doesn’t even need to stole!

LIKE SHE DIDN’T CARE?! Sorry but this is so wrong, i can tell that, SHE CARES, all these people who are making posts mocking her and calling her crazy because according to them she "copied" three measly posts, when if I were in her place and all my years of work were at stake I would also act like a crazy person because it's worth it, here it is demonstrated clearly her hypocrisy, if Lia wants to defend all her hard work or defend herself from bullying by blocking you she is crazy but if she makes a post explaining everything it seems like she doesn't care, this frustrates me so much

Here more evidence of Lia’s drafts

youtube

Just a few of her drafts

And last but not least I want to give credit to Lia's great work these years, so you can see that there is a true artist behind all this nonsense controversy, here are some of her moodboards, my personal favorites that I can't imagine how much time it would have taken

Extra: “Lia we know it’s you” Don’t acuse me of being Lia, i’m just a real friend

Evidence: Contact of Lia and me

Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation

before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.

proofs

you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.

2nd

here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and

3rd / last

lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)

now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.

in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses

tags

@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis

#Youtube #kpop moodboard #lil-liaa #kpop aesthetic #kpop gg #danielle moodboard #bylilliaa #moodboardcommunity #clean moodboard #new jeans #kpop moots #twice moodboard

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revelboo · 1 day ago

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the recent development with 'everything is alright' has me wondering about king starscream and how... lonely he seems. granted rattrap is there but hes... not much company in stars mind, i think. like dont get me wrong i knew he'd be lonely and a little on the right side of miserable, but that in tandem with the bit about 'dont you know you're home/his future/the one good thing in his life' bit from the last chapter has me!! chokign up a bit cuz damn he really wasnt kidding!!! he got what he wanted but at the cost of still being miserable bc its fuckin LONELY at the top when youre paranoid as all hell with VERY REAL justifications to back said paranoia up!!! god!!!

Yeah, King Star isn’t all that happy. I do like playing with different versions of the same character and just tweaking the circumstances. In Everything is Alright he’s alienated himself from his Trine due to his paranoia, in True Romance he still trusts his Trine and has that relationship, so he’s a lot less paranoid and lonely, in Overdone his Trine just drifted apart. He could have made more of an effort to connect and reach out, but he was so focused on his goals, he didn’t really notice that gap widening until they’re almost strangers to each other

Overdone Pt 2

IDW RID Starscream x Reader

• “You’re weren’t on earth, were you?” He asks when Rattrap gawks at the human in his grip. Striding past, he heads for his private habsuite. Hears Rattrap weakly call out about the reports and he ignores him. They can wait. But you? A human from nowhere plummeting to your death. Closing the door behind himself, he studies you as you cling to his servos. Timid for a spy. “Well?” He growls, depositing you on his desk. “Where did you come from?” Who sent you to spy on him? Wants to know so he can and deliver your broken body to them.

• Falling on your hip, you stare at the big monster and his wings flare out. Trying to say something, anything, when you’re too terrified to make a sound. You’d been driving and then crippling plain had slammed through you, feeling like being torn in two. And then finding yourself somewhere wholly different falling to your death. It’s a nightmare and you can’t wake up. Lip curling, he slams his huge palms down far too close to you and you scream and cringe into a ball. “Speak! Who are you working for?” He roars.

• Pretending at terror? No, venting softly as that acrid shift in your scent registers, he leans back. Not an act. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” You cry, little voice broken and terrified and his wings droop slightly. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but you came from somewhere. Humans don’t spontaneously teleport across space and time. Except you apparently had. Servos tapping on the desk, he glares at you and the problem you pose. If you are a spy? An autobot ally sent to undermine him? Why risk your death? If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have died. Maybe whoever had dropped you meant to see what he’d do and you’re of no importance to them beyond as an expendable pawn?

• “Stop cowering and sniveling,” he growls and you risk a glance at that scowling face, see his optics narrow at you. “If you show your fear, others will use that against you.” Heart hammering against your ribs, you watch him pace around the huge room. And when he’s not looking at you, you can breathe. Try to get your bearings. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but it had hurt worse than anything you’ve ever felt. Tracking him as he lifts a hand, murmuring, you realize he’s talking to himself at the same time it sinks past the fear that he’d caught you when you’d been falling. He’d saved you.

• Why had he saved you? Because you’re not a monster not matter how much you pretend you are, that annoying, little ghost whispers and he curls his lip. “You know nothing.” Refuses to look, to let his processor trick him with impossible things. Would think maybe you’re a hallucination, too. Except he’d felt your little heart beating against his servos, the warmth of your body in his hands. He’s not mad enough to imagine details like that, yet. Though for you to appear when he was considering not pulling up? Are you a punishment? Drifting back to the desk, his head tips with predatory interest as he rests a servo against your throat and you lay a soft hand on him. You feel real. “Tell me why I shouldn’t rid myself of you. Make me believe you’re no spy.”

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #starscream

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kinardsevan · 22 hours ago

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maybe, someday, love

oh look. i came up with a mini idea and decided to write it instead of sleeping. enjoy!

“Hey, Tommy.”

The room smells of antiseptic and bleach, with an undertone of metal and plastic. It brings up memories of a life before, one no longer lived, left in the past, and is just the slightest bit triggering. But that doesn’t matter right now.

Maddie curls her fingers around the man’s much larger, bandaged hand as she sniffles. Her hand isn’t even big enough to envelop all of his, but that doesn’t matter in the moment.

“I know we didn’t talk much before the break-up,” she states, staring down at his fingers. The dried blood around his cuticles, where it was too tight in the crevices to completely wipe away stares back at her like a bloodstain on a white sheet. Her heart clenches, and she reminds herself that she needs to remain calm for the baby inside of her.

“A-and I’d really like to change that, given the option,” she continues. The rhythmic drone of the ECG and the ventilator keep pace with each other while she tries to tune them out. She chews on the inside of her bottom lip, all too aware of the way the tissue between her teeth has become tough from repeatedly running it between her teeth in the past few days. She inhales a shaky breath as she runs her thumb over his fingers, turns his hand over and stares down at where there coud inevitably be a wedding ring at some point.

“He doesn’t really let people call him Evan,” she says softly as she continues to stare down at his hand. “I think when were growing up, he didn’t really hear it in a loving way a whole lot of the time, and after I left for Boston…” She pauses, sniffling as a fresh round of tears hits her and run over her cheeks of their own volition. She clears her throat as best she can. “After I left for Boston, I think he felt really invisible. I don’t really know that he stopped feeling invisible until he got here. And I know there’s a wealth of weight beneath all of that—the things he did and put up with to feel just a little less invisible.

“I think… I think becoming Buck was a version of himself where he could be someone else,” she comments. She trails her gaze up his bruised, scraped, and bloodied arm to his body, covered by a hospital gown, his neck, and then his face, just as bruised and covered in cuts and scrapes. “He said to me once that being a firefighter is the only thing that he’d ever done that mattered, and how much that drove his determination to get back to it. And I know now that he did that because it made him feel seen.”

She pauses in her speaking, eyes trailing to the ECG and watching the continuous wave of Tommy’s heartbeat. She lifts her free hand to her throat, rubbing the sides of it a few times to try and soothe away the ache formed from the combination of crying so much, and the weight of the emotion still crushing down on her chest.

“Until he met you,” she rasps. “And don’t get me wrong—when he said that you broke up with him, I told him to move on, but I think you know a little bit why I’d just want him to be happy. When I realized just how deep into it you two were, I was the one who encouraged him to go after you…” She pauses again, forcing down another deep breath and soft ‘whew’, squeezing Tommy’s fingers lightly. “Which makes it really hard to feel like this isn’t my fault.”

She feels the familiar popping sensations in her stomach, alerting her that her unborn child is shifting around, and her free hand drifts to the curve, stroking gently.

“I know that in the grand scheme of things for you, I’m basically nobody,” she comments. “But…” She sniffles, not bothering to fight with wiping the tears on her face anymore. “Evan isn’t doing so well, and… truth be told, I don’t know that he would fight to come back to anyone as hard as he would for you. I also don’t know that he would be able to find the fight without you. So please wake up. I know there are people here who love you, and people here who want the chance to get to love you. I don’t want to watch my brother only get months with the love of his life when he deserves decades. You both do.”

She squeezes his fingers once more before releasing them and pushing up out of her chair. She walks to the door and stops she reaches it, glancing back at him and then the ECG again. It continues to beep rhythmically along with the ventilator, and her bottom lip trembles as she opens the door, stepping into the waiting arms of her husband as Hen passes her with a pat on the shoulder before walking into Tommy’s room to hold vigil.

. . .

“I’m so sorry, I got out as soon as I could,” Eddie says, dropping his duffle on the floor as he reaches Chimney’s side. “Any word?”

The older man shakes his head as he stares into the hospital room. He glances over at Eddie, takes him in briefly, before they’re both staring back through the window at Bobby, Maddie, and Evan.

“No change,” he replies wearily. “They’re trying to wean Tommy off sedation, but it’s not going well, and Buck has seized three times. They’re saying it’s not critical right now, but-..”

“This wasn’t supposed to be the result of Buck going after him,” Eddie murmurs.

There’s shuffling behind them and then a ‘hey, Howie,’ that draws both fo their attention. A man taller than both of them but shorter than both Buck and Tommy walks up and Eddie eyes him curiously as Chimney gives the man a sympathetic half-smile.

“Sal, hey,” he greets wearily, extending a hand to the other man.

“I got off shift as soon as I could,” the other man comments. “122’s running thin right now. Have you been down the hall yet?”

Chimney nods. “You should check in with the doctor. They’re not telling us much.”

“I will,” Sal replies. He glances up through the window. “How’s the kid?”

Chimney and Eddie both shake their head at him.

“Does anybody even know what the hell they were doing up there,” Eddie asks. Chimney shakes his head and Sal shrugs when they both look at him.

“He mentioned planning on flying to try and get out of his head, but I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind.” When both Chimney and Eddie keep staring at him skeptically, he glares at them. “No. If there’s one thing I’m sure on, it’s that Tommy would do the opposite of putting the kid in danger. He’d work directly against that to keep him out of danger.”

Chimney looks back towards Evan’s hospital room and Eddie gulps.

“If this is less danger, then I don’t want to know what the worst result could’ve been.”

#bucktommy #mini #sloth writes #my fic #mini fic #tevan #kinley #firepilot #firebeast #kinkley #the ally and the beast

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sinnabarmoth · 2 days ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (14/18)

(A/N: Sorry about the late update but I was running a fever of 103 and puking a lot so I couldn't finish writing. But I live and so does this story! We're finally at the chapter that prompted this entire fic!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With Sylus back home you learn exactly how much he has missed you.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Dragon rut. Breeding sex. Breeding kink. P in V. Cunnilingus. Rough sex. Overstimulation. Multiple creampies. Sex on the dais.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15)

Read on AO3

After having a moment to embrace Sylus and take in that he was truly home you grabbed him and took him next door to the workshop. “There’s something I want to show you. Think of it as a welcome home present.”

You led him over to the sculpture you had spent days crafting. It was a tall twisting sculpture meant to look like rising flames. From the base it was a soft blue and melted into colors of red, orange, and yellow as they went up. When on the ground it came up to about your hip. In the flames were hidden figures and shapes like a dragon wing and a wreath of flowers. Tiny moments from your life melted into the flames.

“I was inspired by the sculptures we saw when you took me to see that dragon tradition. I know that you don’t have one and I know it isn’t the same culture wise but I thought you might appreciate it.”

His hand hovered over the sculpture and the fine twisting tendrils that created the dancing flames. “It’s remarkable. You really did this?”

“Mmhmm.” you smiled wide. “Does that mean you like it?”

“I love it.” Sylus gathered you in his arms and kissed you. “You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you.”

“Only question is how to get it home.” you laughed. “I probably should have made it smaller so it was easier to transport.”

“No. I love it exactly as it is and I’ll come back for it later. But first, you said we had to get married?”

“Yes, let’s go get that over with so we can go home.” You grabbed Sylus again and found your father before heading for the church.

It was meant to be a quick affair, just with family and a few close friends but by the time you had grabbed Tara and were on your way back to the church it had been filled with people. You could only guess they were excited to see a dragon get married.

Upon seeing that there was a ton of people waiting your friends grabbed you and hauled you away again to get dressed in something better. You tried to tell them it was just a formality to make your father happy and that you didn’t need the whole ado but they weren’t listening. They had dug out your mother’s old wedding dress for you to put on and spent what felt like an eternity on your hair and make up. You didn’t tell them all this effort was for naught considering that Sylus was going to undo it all the moment you got back to the mountain.

It was strange, last time you had been pampered over like this it was to send you to be killed by a dragon. Now you were marrying one. Funny how life turns out.

When they deemed you ready they let you return to the church. Sylus stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the church, shuffling his feet as he waited for you to return. You really wished there were less people here. It was awkward enough showing up in an entire wedding dress when he was still in his normal attire but to have the majority of the town seated to watch was not helping. Made you wish you had a bouquet if only for something to grip.

But you made it to the front and had the excuse of holding Sylus’s hands as the ceremony began. “Sorry about all the theatrics. This was supposed to be quick.” you whispered to him.

“It’s fine. Made for a fine excuse to see you in something so pretty.” he whispered back. “Although the virginal white is less than truthful.”

“Sylus!” you hissed at him.

The ceremony continued and you made your vows. “You may now kiss your bride.” the officiant said.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to kiss Sylus in front of so many people. Sylus had no such preoccupations and had taken the opportunity to pull you flush against him and kiss you hard. You staggered for a moment as he dipped you slightly. When he pulled back you noticed that he had blocked everyone’s view with his wings.

“Now,” he whispered, “I get to take you home?”

“Yes you do.”

Sylus scooped you up off your feet and strode out of the church before anyone could say any words of congratulations. You were back up in the biting winter air, the village shrinking beneath you as you soared through the grey sky. You looked out over the world and the blanket of snow that covered every inch of it. You knew that it would look amazing from high up.

You snuggled into Sylus’s chest, leeching whatever warmth you could get off of him. You were finally going home.

~~~

In the coming weeks more news came to the village about how the tide of the war was finally turning in the kingdom’s favor. They were expecting a defeat of the enemy soon enough. It was a relief to know that this would hopefully all be over soon. Apparently a lot of troops had fled and abandoned their posts when they had thought that the enemy had dragons to help fight for them. They only had Sylus for a couple weeks but it had done a great deal to help.

Speaking of Sylus he had been especially clingy since returning. Now, Sylus being clingy of you was nothing new. The man loved having you within arms length at any given time. But since coming back he had barely left your side at all. Wherever he was, you had to be. It did not matter what you were doing or what he was doing, you needed to be with him. You’d call it cute but knew how your precious dragon felt about being called cute.

You could practically hear his voice already in that deep baritone. “What is cute about me, little bird? The horns? The claws? Your idea of what is adorable must be horribly skewed if that word fits me.”

He had also been spoiling you rotten. Pampering you like you had never been before. He was doing everything for you and giving you gifts every single day. You figured he was just making up for all the time he was gone. You didn’t want to complain but it started annoying you when he tried to insist on carrying you everywhere. That’s where you finally had to draw a line.

You had finally gotten a moment to yourself when Sylus suddenly disappeared to some other part of the cave. You didn’t know for what reason he had decided to now leave you alone but you were taking advantage of the alone time by taking a relaxing hot bath. Being a dragon’s mate had some great perks, the hot springs were one of them. It always left your skin so warm and extra soft afterwards.

After you were done you redressed and started poking around looking for Sylus. You liked your alone time but now you were curious as to where he had gone. He wasn’t in the bedroom or the kitchen. You decided to try the hoard room next and that was where you finally found him. He was arranging the treasure around the dais in the center.

“Sylus?” your voice rung with an echo in the vast room. “What are you doing?”

He had gone ramrod straight, his tail flicking out and straightening at the sound of your voice. He snapped his gaze up at you and even from across the room you could tell there was a fire in his eyes. A literal fire. You usually only saw his already crimson eyes alight like that when he was angry or…possessive.

He vaulted over the dais, wings erupting from his back as he dove towards you like a hawk chasing its prey. His tail was actually what got you first, looping around your waist and pulling you towards him while he was still midair. He landed, trapping you against the wall. His mouth landed on your neck, biting hard into the soft flesh over your pulse.

“Ah, Sylus,” your voice came out as a gasp.

His tail curled tighter around you, plastering you to him. One hand cradled the back of your head, partly to protect it from hitting the wall and partly to pull it back so he could have better access to your neck. His wings were still out and they cocooned inward, encasing you entirely in his presence and his scent.

“So soft…” he muttered as he lathed the bite mark on your neck with his tongue.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you sighed as he moved to the other side of your neck and began to bite and suck a matching bruise onto your skin. “But can I know why we’re doing this now?”

He pulled back just enough to look in your eyes. The glaze of lust had abated just a bit as he fought for clarity. “It’s nature,” he said. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, eyes roaming over your face. “Need you. Need all of you to reek of me.”

You were starting to understand. “Mark.” his fingers brushed the bruises on your neck. “Claim. My most precious treasure.”

Oh fuck. Was he in rut?

This was something you had read about during your research. Dragon mating was already intense but nothing about it was that much different from human mating. One glaring and obvious biological difference was a dragon rut.

Dragon ruts had their own quirks that had similarities to other animal mating practices. One factor was that dragons have the impulse to exercise their rut surrounded by their treasure. It’s a way of centering their mate and making them feel safe. The other large part of a rut was the, well, sex part. They needed to make sure their mate was thoroughly marked as their own, and that meant overloading them with their scent and pheromones so no one could mistake that they were already claimed. That also usually meant impregnating them, no better way to claim your mate than that.

“Sylus…” You knew this was something you were going to have to deal with one day but you hadn’t realized it was so soon. Dragons didn’t have regular mating seasons, it was random for each. If you had been paying more attention you would have realized his was upon him. The signs were there. The clingingness, the pampering, the gifts. They were all behaviors dragons exhibited before rut to earn the approval of their mate and let them know they wanted to breed.

“Sylus, I need you to slow down a second.” you managed to get out.

Pulling away from you looked as if it physically pained him. He was breathing hard as he stared at you. “Yes?”

“Are you in rut right now?” you asked, wanting to make sure this is what was absolutely happening.

He nodded. “Meant to talk to you…” his grip on you tightened. “Hard to think straight.”

“Are you…” you swallowed back the nervousness in your voice. “Are you trying to breed me?”

Hearing the word breed he pressed himself closer to your body. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you. “Yes.” he put his mouth back on your neck. “Fucking hells…want to fuck you. Want to breed you. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I see…” a rush of warmth spread through you getting the confirmation.

“If you don’t want to you have to tell me now.” he muttered against your skin. “Because when I start I’m not going to be able to stop.” he kept grinding against you. “Need you so bad. Need to have you reeking of me.”

You wrapped your arms around him. “I want to. It’s alright.” you pulled his head back up to look you in the eyes. His gaze was intense and desperate but he was still him behind those glazed eyes. Probably not for long though. “I love you and I want to have a baby with you. Fuck me. Fill me up until you get me pregnant. Please. Please Sylus, I want you to breed me.”

That snapped the last thread of control he had. He crushed his mouth to yours and dragged you over to the dais. His claws dug into the fabric of your clothes and raked them down your back, shredding what you wore to rags. You gave a small squeak of surprise as you felt the ribbons of fabric fall off you. He picked you off your feet and sat your naked ass on the cold smooth stone.

He was wasting no time. But either out of desperation or a humane part of him that was still in control, instead of immediately sinking himself into you he took a knee, threw your legs over his shoulders and started devouring your pussy. He was at least attempting to ready your cunt before he started fucking you. It really was not needed though. The moment you had realized he was in rut you had felt yourself getting excited.

He lapped up what arousal was already staining your thighs and when you were even wetter than you were he shrugged your legs off and stood. He hovered over you, hastily undoing his pants to free his cock. He hadn’t bothered taking them off entirely and instead spread your legs wide and pushed on your chest so you were laying flat on the dais.

Sylus paused, his hand drifting lower to your stomach. “Gonna put a baby in here. Gonna see you swell with my seed. Want to see it so bad.”

He shoved himself into your heat, moaning loudly as he filled and stretched you. “Want to look in your eyes when I get you pregnant.” he began thrusting, holding your hips down as he pistoned in and out of you. “Ah fuck! Gonna fuck a baby into you. Gonna breed you over and over--ah!”

“Sylus!” your whole body was being jostled by the force of his thrusts. If it wasn’t for him holding you in place you were sure you would have slid off the other end of the dais. “Fuck Sylus! Please!”

“Say it!” he growled. “Fucking say it! Need to hear you say it again!”

“Oh gods! Please Sylus! Please! Fuck a baby into me! Breed me! Please!” you begged. Your cunt squeezed down tight around him as the filthy damning words came out of your mouth. You wanted it! You wanted it so damn bad!

He bent close to kiss you hungrily, his thrusts getting faster as he chased his own release. “Gonna do it. Gonna fill you up so much, little bird.” he muttered in a harsh whisper against your lips. “Fill my mate up so much it’ll be leaking out of you for days. Gonna fucking breed this pussy. Fuck!”

He grabbed your hand and pushed it between your bodies so you were touching your clit. “Play with yourself. I want you to come when I breed you.”

You swiped at your clit, pushing your body headfirst into your orgasm. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around his cock and it was enough to finally undo him as well. A hot warmth spread through your cunt as he came deep inside you. He didn’t stop thrusting as he was coming, his com coating his own cock as he kept pushing into you until finally his body slowed and he stopped.

Your legs were shaking but otherwise you were fine. That wasn’t as bad as you thought it would have been. It was definitely intense. When you imagined a dragon rut you were expecting more of a--

Before you could finish the thought Sylus pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, bending you over the dais. He kicked your legs out so you were spread wide and slammed back into you. Oh gods, you were still going?

His hips bounced off your ass as he railed into you from behind. “Gotta put more in you.” he stressed through clenched teeth. “Need to fill you up.”

“Sy--Sylus, I--ah!” your body was still sensitive from the last orgasm and the way he was pounding you was driving you towards another at a frightening pace.

“Wanna plug up this pussy with my cock. Keep you sat on it all day and just come in you constantly until you’re bred.” he was panting hard. His hands were around your hips to keep you in place and you didn’t know if what you felt trickling down the outside of your thighs was sweat or blood from where his claws broke past your skin. You knew what was sliding down the inside of your thighs at least.

The combination of his cum and your arousal made it so he could glide in and out easily. Your pussy had been stretched to a raw red hole leaking with cum and you knew all he could think about was adding more. Overloading you until you were pregnant. Until he had bred you.

You tried to find some purchase but your feet were slipping on the gold coins scattered around the dais. Fuck you were going to come again! A ripple shot up your spine and left your mouth as a loud cry as you came again. “Sylus!”

“Fuck yes!” he lifted your hips up a bit to meet you at a deeper angle. “Ah fuck yes! Feel so fucking good! Gonna cum in you again. Gonna breed you so good so no one can take you!”

Tears leaked from your eyes as the overstimulation started to fray at your nerves. Your body felt like it was vibrating. You were tripping between pain and pleasure as every thrust, every little touch sent a jolt of electricity across your skin.

“Sylus…” your voice was weak, only able to moan and whine. “Please. Please. Please!”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. You wanted something but your brain was nothing but mush. All you could focus on was the tingling along your skin, the burning friction between your legs, the wet slapping sounds of your bodies, and Sylus moaning as he fucked you.

“I’ll give you anything you want.” his voice had deepened, dropping into a growl, “Just get pregnant. Fuck! Please! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get fucking pregnant!”

He shot into you again, his body stilling as he pumped more of his seed into your already spent and coated cunt. You turned your head to look at him and saw his eyes screwed shut tight, face pinched with concentration, and his body glistening with sweat. When his eyes opened and looked at you they were still glowing red. Oh gods above was he not done?

His eyes roamed over your body lazily before locking in on where you were still joined. There was a deep rumble in his chest that sounded like a growl. He grabbed your ass and parted your cheeks to get a better look. Whatever shreds of Sylus had been there while he was fucking you before had evaporated and you saw a feral animal staring back at you. And his cock was still rock hard and hot in your pussy.

In an instant, without pulling out he pushed your body further up the dais so your feet left the ground. His arms bracketed on either side of you, claws digging into the stone as he laid planked against your back. Then he started rutting against you. No large thrusts, just rutting shallowly over and over.

His breath was hot in your ear as he panted, no longer even speaking. Your hands found the lip of the dais and held on for dear life, nails scratching at the stone. Short keening whines fell from your lips.

Too much! Too sensitive! Sylus wasn’t giving you any break between orgasms, if he even noticed them at all. He was too far gone in his own world. You tried to breath, to squirm away to give yourself a second to breathe but you were thoroughly pinned underneath him.

You whimpered and moaned, unable to stop the orgasm from drawing steadily closer again. Hot tears were streaming down your face. It felt good! It felt too good! You’d never been driven this far into pleasure before and that was saying something considering how often you and Sylus had sex.

You cried out and it must have sounded enough like you were in pain that Sylus stopped. Maybe you were in pain. You couldn’t fucking tell anymore!

“Need to stop?” he asked, his voice quiet and tense with control. He brushed the tears away from your eyes. “Hurting you?”

You shook your head. “Good…feels good…” you took a second to breathe until the worst of your trembling had abated. “I’m good now. Keep going.”

“Certain?” he asked. You could feel his cock twitching inside you. His body was shaking with the need to move. Yet he was still checking on you.

“I’m certain. Keep fucking me.” you said, taking in a shaky breath. “Breed me. Please Sylus. Breed my pussy!”

His hands stretched and covered yours where you were holding onto the edge of the dias. Then he began fucking you again, rutting even faster.

The top of the mountain must have broken off because you swore you were seeing stars. You had no idea that sex could feel this good! “Ah yes! Yes! Yes! Fucking hell yes! Sylus!” you chanted his name over and over. “Come with me! Please!” your voice slurred. “Want you to come with me Sylus!”

His hands gripped yours tighter. Your toes curled, your eyes shut, and you screamed in pleasure as you came again. Your brain had fully left your body and you were floating in the heavens. The only thing you could hear was the deafening roar that left Sylus as he came in you a third and final time.

You were shaking violently, your body still hyper-sensitive and crashing through wave after wave of arousal. Sylus was shuddering on top of you. You could feel his forehead pressing against the back of your skull, his breath tickling your damp neck as he came back to reality with you. The warmth between your legs was red hot but you finally felt his dick going soft again.

As gently as he was capable he rolled to his side, taking you with him. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah…I think so…shit…” your body was limp and useless now.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You were crying awfully hard.”

“Felt too good.” you told him. “But I’m alright. I promise.”

“I’m going to pull out now. Deep breath.” he said, pressing a reassuring kiss to the back of your neck. He pulled you off his dick and you cried out again. A flood of warmth spilled out of your cunt, no longer plugged up by Sylus’s cock. “It’s alright, I’m right here. You’re alright.” he spoke soothingly.

His hands rubbed up and down your arms. Like massaging out a sore muscle he was simultaneously activating and banishing the sensitivity lingering over your body. “Sorry for being so rough with you.” he said, kissing your temples. “It was hard to keep cognizant during it. It wasn’t until you reeked of me that I started to come back to my senses.”

“It was vigorous, I will say that much.” your body had melted against him and you turned in his arms so you could look at him. It was hard to do considering how sore your body still was and Sylus helped move you. He wrapped his arms around you, and even his tail had curled around your leg.

“I had meant to talk to you about ruts before this happened. I thought I had more time.” he said. “How did you know I was in rut?”

“Found a book in the village that detailed a lot about dragon mating practices, including ruts.” you nestled into his chest, “I would have liked a little more warning but you live and you learn.”

“You did so well. Love you so much.” he kissed you gently. “Do you think you’ll be alright for the rest of the rut?”

Your eyes went wide. “What do you mean the ‘rest of the rut?’ Did we not just finish?”

“Guess that book you found didn’t tell you everything.” he smirked. “Dragon ruts don’t end after getting off one time--”

“I think you got off like three times.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “Dragon ruts can last over a week, sometimes even an entire month.”

Your jaw dropped. “A month? Are you saying that you are going to fuck me like that everyday for a month?”

“A month is an extreme case, most likely I’ll only be like this for a week.”

“Still! Why is it so long? I think you more than got me pregnant today!”

“And the rut doesn’t stop until I know for sure. I’ll be able to smell the change.” his hand drifted down to rest against your stomach. “Usually takes a week to be able to tell so that’s why it lasts that long.”

“I see.” you took in a deep breath. Your rested your hand over his. “This…this is really happening, isn’t it? We’re going to have a baby.”

The smile nearly split his face. “Yes. I know that you said yes when we started but is this truly what you want? To have and carry my children? There’s every chance that you didn’t get pregnant so if you want to wait we can wait. The rut will pass on its own.”

“I want this. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” you kissed him again, joyful tears brimming in your eyes.

“Neither can I.” he pulled your thigh over his hip. “Good thing too cause I’m ready to take you again.”

“Oh dear gods above.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #lads dragon au #dragon sylus

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read-write-thrive · 2 days ago

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Charles Rowland Week Day One — Cricket Bat/The Brawn

There were a lot of unexpected downsides to being a ghost. Sure, he got a best mate and a “life” he loved out of dying, but it wasn’t all sunshine rainbows and ice cream. And not just the major things like being chased or attacked on cases, neither! Small things were just as bad, especially when they snuck up on you

Take the mirror thing, for example. It’s really not an issue, right? Charles wasn’t vain or anything, he didn’t need to see himself in the mirror constantly. But you don’t realise how much you look in the mirror until it’s gone, really. All of a sudden your only perceptions of yourself is what you can see looking down and what you can remember. Charles had done his best to not think about it at all, but was rather suddenly confronted with his image issues about a year into being dead.

Well, “suddenly” isn’t quite right. Truth is, they’d just found a place to call theirs and were set on fixing it up. They hadn’t settled on a name for their detective agency yet, but they were getting there. At the moment all they were doing was cleaning the space as best they could to try and make it feel more homey.

You see, the place was, looking back, their reward for their first case. They’d taken to wandering London, just seeing the sights really, when recently they noticed the building. In slight disrepair, sure, but the weirder part was the poltergeist wreaking havoc on anyone who came near it. The living (un?)consciously avoided the place, but the boys hadn’t heard the gossip and were the next victims to its destruction. They couldn’t be killed, of course, but they could still be thrown about (and injured, apparently! Blasted iron—).

Edwin had already picked up a magical tome on their travels (which he’d then casually carried in his overcoat—Charles, who was still struggling to reimagine his clothing, was only a little jealous, he swore) and was thankfully able to use it to banish the poltergeist. They both took a hit or two, but Charles had realised early on that he needed to take the attention off Edwin in order for him to actually use magic. Charles had quickly rallied against the poltergeist, distracting it and taking the rest of the blows that came with that. Well, he’d tried to tackle the poltergeist first, get on the offense and all that, but that hadn’t gone well. So then he just took the hits until Edwin did his job.

Edwin, for whatever reason, had been right pissed about it in the days since. He kept his sentences short, kept his nose in that bloody book, and was overall being a cranky bastard. Charles was still sore from the fight (how ridiculous that ghosts could even be sore) and was frankly fed up with it. Time to tackle it head-on.

Though he could’ve taken the empty chair on the other side of the desk, Charles decided that being up close and personal was better for this talk. He marched up to the desk and sat on the ledge of it, arms crossed and looking down at Edwin, feet nudging the base of his chair.

Edwin didn’t even look up from the book, “Yes, Charles?”

Charles carefully took the book (bookmarked it, naturally, he wasn’t a monster) and set it aside as he spoke, “We need to have a chat, mate. Now, if you’ve got the time.”

Edwin let the book be taken, though his (stupidly broad, how does a sixteen year old even get built like that?? too fit for his own good and he doesn’t even know it, the wanker) shoulders remained tense. He quirked an eyebrow as he looked up at Charles, “Since you’ve taken my reading, I suddenly have the time. What is it you wish to speak about?”

Charles used his hand to motion at Edwin’s face, “All this. I get that you’re angry with me, though I have no clue why, but I need you to come out and say it, yeah? I’m not a mind reader.”

Sighing, Edwin properly faced Charles, “Fine. If that would please you. I am unhappy with how you handled our encounter with the poltergeist, and I was hoping you would apologise for it. I see that will not be happening.”

“Apologise?” Charles questioned, bewildered, “What the bloody hell did I do? I distracted the thing while you used your fancy magic to get rid of it!”

Edwin remained unimpressed, “I can handle myself, Charles. Your display of… masochism, shall we say— was unwarranted and reckless. We had no way of knowing what the poltergeist could do.”

“And? What, I was just supposed to let the thing do equal damage to both of us? Or let you take all the hits? You’re the one with the bloody book, mate, least I could do was give you time to read it.” Charles huffed.

“And yet your soul is less tempered than mine, so it is extremely likely that you will succumb to injuries at a faster rate.” Edwin snapped back, hands steepled in front of him as if this were all just obvious facts.

Bewildered, Charles tried to clarify, “What are you saying? I can’t take the same damage as you? Seriously?”

Edwin’s eyes, usually steadfast in maintaining eye contact, flickered down Charles’s form, then back up to his face.

Charles knew what that meant. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten looks like that, in conversations like these. Every time he tried out for a sport, every time he tried to stand up to his dad, every time he tried to keep up with his mates. Charles knew he was twiggy, alright? He didn’t put on muscle like the other lads did even doing the same sports and eating the same school-provided meals. Hell, even when he tried going above and beyond in eating meat and lifting weights all he did was get lean, not properly muscley. A fact which everybody noticed.

As a result, he’d get these looks. Right rude looks. As if it was funny to think of him being strong or holding his own in scraps. There were a few times his mates would egg him on to fight some other bloke twice his size to try and embarrass him. Maybe it wasn’t so harmless, looking back, but Charles usually scraped by by changing it into a race or just talking his way out of it. He knew they wanted to see him take a beating, even if they framed it as him “proving” that he was stronger than he looked. They’d give him that same look every single bloody time, as if he had to be bluffing and they were thrilled to call him out on it.

This was made all the worse by his dad of course—his dad who outright laughed in his face any time he tried to stand up or fight back. His dad who left just enough visible bruises and scars to make it seem like Charles was out fighting every break and losing every single one of ‘em. The teachers took it as another sign of Charles being no-good and brushed off any time he wanted to get treatment or lenience for the injuries. The other boys would laugh at the bruises and such, asking what Charles did to piss off his foe. Asking why he kept fighting if he was so obviously always going to lose. Just look at him—how would a scraggy thing like him ever win a fight?

So yeah, maybe Charles was a bit defensive about how he looked and how strong he was. It was all the worse by the mirror thing—was he skinnier dead? How would he ever know for sure? To top it all off, he’s dead. Not exactly like there’s a gym for ghosts, is there? Well, not that they knew of yet at least. And with his luck, a ghost gym wouldn’t do anything either.

Point is, Charles was practically stuck in this stupid thin appearance for the rest of his ghostly days. And he hated it. He hated it every time he went to check a mirror and saw nothing, forcing himself to rely on his memory. He hated it every time he struggled to manifest better clothes—Edwin kept telling him to just visualise, right, but how was he supposed to do that when he’d avoided visualising himself at all for years? What if he made it worse by visualising? Maybe he was a bit bigger since dying! Some unconscious thing helping him out or some shite. He didn’t want to risk making himself any skinnier!

It was ridiculous, all of it. But Charles was not about to take that same bullshit from someone he thought was better than all that.

“What, I’m too skin and bones for ya? Too weak? C’mon, tell me. I can take it.” He really couldn’t, truth be told, but he was ready to bluff his way through the hurt like always.

Edwin’s face scrunched up, “What the devils are you talking about? We’re ghosts, Charles, our appearances are entirely subjective. Not to mention they have little very bearing on this situation.”

Now it was again Charles’s turn to be confused, though he was still hunched up on the defensive, “Then what? What is it?”

“I do not want to see you hurt, alright?” Edwin snapped, “We do not know how to fix any injuries you might have sustained and you were completely defenceless! I was trying to focus on locating and performing the proper spell and there you were, ready to be obliterated in front of my very eyes!”

Charles gave a slightly relieved sigh. Edwin looked displeased at this, but Charles started speaking before Edwin had a chance to continue, “You’re mad at me because I scared you, is that it? Mate, I’m perfectly fine! We got that fucker out of here and I’m perfectly a-ok! Here I was thinking I’d properly mucked something up—“

“I am serious, Charles—“

“So am I!” Charles planted his hands on Edwin’s shoulders, forcing complete eye contact, “Look, as soon as we can, we’ll get our hands on some weapons for me to use alongside your fancy magic books. Hell, maybe you can make me one for all we know on magic!”

Edwin again went to reply, but Charles wasn’t finished.

“I’m flattered you care, and thank you for looking out for me, but I promise I’m stronger than I look. Get me a bat or something and, with you and your magic, I’m happy to take on any future baddies we come across, yeah?”

Edwin sighed again, but it was clear his icy demeanour was melting, “I suppose we can have that be our next move, now that we have a headquarters for ourselves.”

Charles all but cheered, ecstatic to have actually resolved their little spat, “That’s the spirit! I’ll be the brawns, you be the brains, and our Ghostbusters agency will be brills!”

“For the hundredth time, Charles, we are not naming our detective agency after some film!…”

—

Day one of @charles-rowland-week in the books! I make no promises to have something for every day/prompt bc my life is a mess (as per usual) but I wanted to at least do one :) hope y’all enjoyed it !!

#tw body image #tw body dysmorphia #tw mentions of abuse #tw charles’s dad tbh #charles rowland week #charles rowland #edwin payne #dead boy detectives #dbda #dead boy detective agency #save dead boy detectives #pre-canon dbda #save dbda #dbda fanfic #dbda fic #renew dead boy detectives #payneland #platonic payneland #(at this point hehe)

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susiekern · 2 days ago

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15. the one with the question

a/n: the demons told me to name the chapter "the one with hotneighbor235" so let's say it's an alternative title

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.829

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You drop your phone on the desk and sigh deeply. It’s been almost a week, yeah. And you still haven’t talked to Megumi. You weren’t exactly sure what you were going to tell him anyway. ‘It was shitty when you talked to me as my favorite artist? When you hide that you’re him and try to build a relationship with me anyway? When you lied multiple times to conceal the truth?’

One part of you truly understood why it turned out like that. He couldn’t just randomly tell you about it all. The whole band worked hard to keep their identities covered, and it wouldn’t work if they just told people around them all the time. What hurt you was how he used Zenin to talk to you at the same time that he got close to you as himself. Why did he do that? For fun? To laugh at the dumb fan who was over the moon because he noticed her? That hurt part of your heart kept telling you it was cruel and you shouldn’t just forgive him.

But fuck, did you miss him. You barely stopped yourself from texting him back last night when your phone lit up with a message at 2 am.

‘I won’t give up on us.’

Please, don’t.

You wanted Megumi back, of course you did. But the wound was still too raw to just cover it up and forget about it. Thankfully, he limited himself to texting you, respecting that you didn’t want to see him, even though showing up at your door would only take him a few seconds. You needed the time and space, and he gave it to you. But how much more do you need?

“Hi, guys! Sorry for canceling earlier this week, but sickness got the best of me. As a compensation, we have a guest tonight, your favorite, Yuji.” Tuning out your thoughts, you put on your best smile and focus on your stream. It can wait a few more hours.

zeyde_: come again to Kyoto, pleaaaase

sammie: LET’S DO A MEET-UP IN KYOTO, YES.

“I’ll think about it, for sure. It was great to see some of you at the expo and obviously to meet with you, Zeyde, for the concert later.” You smile at the camera a few hours later, having just ended a call with Yuji after playing the planned games. It was truly relaxing, occupying your mind for the evening with something else than the last week. “Nobara wanted to go next time too, so we could probably make it happen.”

viviaaan: omg yes, bring the queen with you

viviaaan: I have to ask her about a few things from my closet, that’d be perfect!

zeyde_: the pleasure was mine, always happy to be a guide and a photographer

yusshi: I’m so jealous, must be nice not to live in a shithole, watch me take a trip across the country to meet you

“It’s always incredible to talk to any of you, so even if only two people show up, I’ll be more than happy.” Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling at the comments that flood the chat.

hotneighbor235: god I missed that smile

sammie: hotneighbor?!

zeyde_: THE hot neighbor

rooney_: wait what’s going on

“What the hell?” You murmur under your breath and furrow your brows. No, he wouldn’t do that, right?

viviaaan: wdym you missed it

zeyde_: what have you done hot neighbor

hotneighbor235: something shitty, but hopefully I can make it right

“You really don’t give up, huh?”

hotneighbor235: never

hotneighbor235: 5 minutes y/n, that’s all I need.

sammie: as a hot neighbor x y/n shipper, I’m with him

viviaaan: give the guy a chance, that’s actually adorable to come here and ask

yusshi: if a dude showed up in my chat asking for 5 mins, I’d cave in instantly

hotneighbor235: you’ve heard the people, darling

hotneighbor235: what do you say?

“5 minutes and not one longer. I’ll meet you upstairs soon.” Sighing, you nod your head. You can’t lie; asking on your stream warms up your heart a little. That’s an effort that you didn’t expect. Besides, it’s only 5 minutes, right? You’ll let him explain and nothing more, then you can think this through again.

hotneighbor235: we both know how it usually ends

hotneighbor235: but I’ll take what you give

hotneighbor235: thanks chat

20 minutes later, you climb the staircase leading to the rooftop. It brings back memories of every time you went there to just sit and talk to Megumi, all those weeks ago. When it all seemed easier. No, when it was easier. Now you’re not sure what to expect; your hands are shaking a little, and your brain feels fogged up. You finally go through the door, feeling the cold air enveloping you in a moment.

“You actually came.” Megumi sounds shocked, like he didn’t expect you to show up in the end. He’s standing in the usual spot, black hoodie on, hair tousled by the wind, cheeks a bit blushed, but you can’t tell if it’s due to the cold or emotions. You nervously come closer, tugging at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“Yeah.” You murmur, standing in front of him, keeping the distance. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You hate how unsure your voices sound, how it feels like this week and everything that happened created a valley between you two. But you won’t be the one to cross it first, no matter how much you want to feel his warmth and arms around your body or breathe in his smell, which brings you so much comfort every time. “I’m… Fuck, I don’t even know how to start.”

“You’ve had almost a week to figure it out, Megumi. Or even longer if you ever planned to have this conversation with me.”

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d actually agree to talk to me tonight.” His fingers tug anxiously on his hair as he takes a deep breath in. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you found out like this, I should be the one to tell you about it all. But I need you to know that I didn’t mean anything wrong by keeping it from you. At first, I would never think we’d be that close, but then I saw it as an opportunity. It was easier to talk to you as a Zenin since you didn’t even like Megumi. But then I fell too deep and couldn’t find a proper way to get out of this.” He says, his voice hurting almost as much as your heart did in the past days.

“I understand why you kept it hidden at first, truly. But after Kyoto and the last few weeks, I thought we both felt the same, and I felt like an idiot when I finally figured it out.” Megumi’s eyes meet yours, and you almost gasp seeing how intense his gaze is.

“We feel the same. At least I hope you still do. And I’m the idiot for not telling you earlier, I wanted to do it in Kyoto, but I was worried. Zenin is a different part of me, and sometimes even I can’t believe we’re the same person. So I thought maybe you’d be mad for ruining his image in your head or disappointed with how it turns out.”

“I would never be disappointed. God, Megumi. If the last months showed me anything, it’s that you’re more than I could ever ask for. Zenin was a dumb fantasy of mine, somewhere deep in my head, but you’re the one I wanted to build something with. My future. Our future.” You clench your fists, keeping your head high. He thought you’d be disappointed? “I’m only disappointed that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me before. But at the same time, we’re not even officially together, so how could I expect it?”

“What do you mean?” His brows are furrowed, and there’s an evident confusion on his face. “We’re together. We’ve been together since our first date.”

Wait, what? Now you’re the one who’s confused.

“We’re together?”

“I mean, if you still want to be with me, yeah?” Hysteric laughter that pulls from your chest makes him frown a little. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“I want to. It’s just not how this thing is supposed to be working.” You take a deep breath in and shake your head a little. There’s hope behind his green eyes, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs on your lips.

“Oh, sorry, you want me down on my knees and asking, or…?” He risks joking, his smirk that you love so much back in its usual place.

God, how you missed seeing it. Seeing him. Talking to him. You missed everything that came with Megumi Fushiguro. His green eyes you got lost in every time, his deep voice, terrible jokes, and calloused fingers. How he made you feel with just one look your way. Sure, you need to work on the communication between you two, but you’re willing to take the risk and give him a chance because how you feel around him is too rare not to try.

“Not hiding your second identity and being fully honest will be enough.” Your words make him drop his gaze to his shoes. “Any other alter ego I should know about?”

“Nope, Zenin is the only one, I promise.” He sighs and takes a step closer to you. “I want to ask, though.”

“Doing it the right way this time?” You take a step his way too, giving him the reassurance he so desperately needed.

“Something like that, yes.” Megumi takes one of your hands in his, gently, like he’s scared you’ll run away any moment now. “y/n y/l, will you be my girlfriend? With full honesty and VIP tickets to the concerts this time.”

“You got me at the tickets. So yes, I will be your girlfriend. But pull shit like that once again, and I’ll throw you off this rooftop with my bare hands.” The threat would be more serious if you weren’t smiling like crazy.

“If I hurt you again, I’ll jump on my own.” With that, he pulls you in, one of his hands cradling your cheek as his eyes roam around your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

You don’t answer, instead going on your toes to connect your lips in a first kiss in what seems like forever. It’s gentle, almost unsure, as you both test the water first. But you only need a few seconds to fall into the rhythm you know so well, his arms wrapping around your waist, as yours circle his shoulders, pulling each other closer. That feeling of comfort that envelops the both of you, the warmth and peace of mind, was worth waiting for. It was all worth it, as long as he held you close and as long as you kept smiling at him.

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