#Only half related to the prompt but still

[raven-cincaide]

 ‘𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅’ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 

Summary: The three times you and Yuji kiss all happen during different stages of your lives, different times and have inherently different meanings, from the awkward ‘first kiss’ as middle schoolers to a surprise reunion smooch days before Uni. Although, you don’t know what to make of the last one. 

Pairing: fem! Reader x (Best friend) Itadori Yuji

Sweetober prompt 2: Best friends 

WC: 2.4 K

Warnings: Fluff, Mild suggestive theme including minors kissing, mention of death (Yuji's grandpa & handling that)

To say that you and Yuji were close would be like saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘ice is cold’- it's something that everyone who’s seen you grow up knew; you two were always in each other's lives- day in and day out you’d hang out together. If you were there, then Yuji would undoubtedly be somewhere close by. It was like you two were bound by an invisible force which told you where the other was. A force that always seemed to bring you two together. Your teachers would sometimes laugh that you were ‘held together by a red string of fate’ while your parents always reminded you two to get married at a respectable time and not forget to send them the invites to the wedding. 

Truth be told, it felt so perfect and surreal. Like your entire life plan was laid out perfectly in your lap: study together until college, get a degree, then you would work at a company for a few years to build up a resume and some cash before settling down somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo. Maybe even in the more green village-like areas where you’d build your perfect future together. Yuji would be a P.E. teacher at some local high school, and you would be either an English teacher or a writer, depending on which profession took off first. You’d build a family together; Yuji wanted three kids at least. You wanted one, so you compromised on two and filled the last spot with a pet of his choice. 

Thus, the first time you two kissed was related to that grand life plan. The life plan that you two came up with during recess in middle school. When although it was nice and warm outside, both of you lazied about in the school library, sitting on the soft chairs in the very corner of the room commonly known as the ‘silent reading corner’, surrounded only by a handful of usual-ignored-older computers and heavy bookshelves. There was no one in the school's library besides the two of you and an old librarian checking in new books somewhere in the second room, well out of sight. The other kids were out kicking ball between each other or up to some other type of mischief, but you felt down and tired and settled for the more comfortable indoors. And expectedly and without question, Yuji joined you, sitting in the familiar seat right beside you. 

“Let’s kiss on it!” The young pink-haired boy exclaimed as he spun yet another round on the well-used computer chair beside you. “You know, to seal the deal. As they do at weddings in front of the pastor, so it’s a deal for life.” 

You peer up at him from your spot, where half of you lay half sprawled out on the desk, head rested on top of your folded arms. “I think it’s the vow before the kiss that makes it, you know, ‘til death do us part’ thingy.” 

“Oh.. well, let's do it anyway; that way, we won’t forget it until we get married!” Yuji shifted closer; his lips pulled up into a wide grin as though he had just won a whole cake.  

“I swear you just want a kiss”, you mumbled, but don’t shove him away. You stayed perfectly still, just stared at him with huge eyes, as he leaned closer and closer until you felt it, a tiny pressure on your lips, a shaky warmth that disappeared as quickly as it came. A second passed, and you two stared at each other in utter silence before you both flew away from each other, faces dark red, as you heard the librarian walk in to remind you to get back to class. 

You have to admit you don’t remember much of that kiss. 

But you do remember the sudden shyness that followed and the way yours and Yuji’s cheeks would blossom into dark red blush whenever you looked at each other after that- a fact that made the other kids tease you the hell out of you two. 

It was an awkward kiss that, for a long time, made you worried you were going to lose Yuji. That he wouldn’t want to be friends with you because you were a bad kisser- and unknowingly to you, he felt the same. Thus, you two didn’t kiss more times in middle school. 

The second time you and Yuji kiss, was during your first year of high school, right after summer break. The two of you sat, sprawled out in the shadows of the high school bleachers from one side, and the overgrown bushes from the other side. A perfect little obscured space for anyone who didn’t want to be seen. But still wanted to have a good view of the sports area with the bright green football field, an area for throwing balls, spears, high and low jumps and other activities you didn’t even know existed. 

The football tryouts had just finished and yet there were still a few hours left until the cheerleading tryouts started. Yuji had wanted to just show up to your tryouts, but an old classmate practically begged him to join for football tryouts as company, completely forgetting that since last semester Yuji hit puberty and not only shot up like a beam but also grew strengths and muscle like a gorilla. Effectively impressing the P.E teacher who wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into your horror-loving, more-of-a-bookworm-than-sports-guy Yuji. 

So now you had no choice but to hide in the shadowy part of the field, sitting on Yuji’s sweatshirt in your bright blue cheerleader uniform, sipping on a milkshake and Yuji in his barely sweaty jeans and t-shirt, right beside you, chugging down a Gatorade. 

“How quickly do you wanna get married?” 

Your eyes flickered over to Yuji as he peered at you through pink bangs. The second he caught your eye though, he turned away, face unmistakably red. His lips were still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He was a mix of cool-casual as if he had just asked how long you had until class, but also so obviously fidgety and nervous that you found him totally cute. Absolutely adorable, and something else you refused to admit about your best friend. But there was also something else in his expression, and you quickly recognise the question for what it was; a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than his sick grandpa. 

‘So bad, huh?’ you want to comfort him in the only way he would accept- by answering his half-metaphorical question: “Hmm, maybe during or straight after Uni? I heard there are some perks with getting housing if you’re a young married couple,” You mused aloud, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. 

“We should kiss on that, You know, to seal the deal..” you paused mid-sip of your cherry-flavoured milkshake, sensing an air of nervousness settled between you. You bite your lips, a part of you uncertain and definitely nervous. You weren’t children anymore, and a kiss at your age would have all sorts of implications. 

But you could also see his need for a distraction, could see how tense his shoulders were and how desperately he gripped the Gatorade bottle. He was afraid, you realised, afraid to be completely alone once his grandpa passed. You still had your parents, but Yuji would have no one. He was afraid you’d leave him too. 

“I swear you just want a kiss” You could practically hear him sob in relief as he spun around to face you, the childhood reply from all this years ago brought him unimaginable relief.

This time it was not a shy and quick press of the lips- it was something more desperate. He pressed his lips to yours firmly and moved them against yours as if he were trying to get closer, or eat you alive. You weren’t sure.  Teenaged hormones raged- an unexplainable tension between you two as your lips and spit, and tongue met each other over and over again. 

This time there was a lot more exploring now, tasting, feeling. 

The taste of Yuji and the puckishly sweet-synthetic taste of post-practice Gatorade cut through the sweet flavour of a cheery milkshake on your tongue. The warmth of his hands on your body, the feel of his chest under your hands. How much he had changed seemingly overnight from a soft and squishy boy into a brick of solid muscle hidden underneath hoodies and lose fitted jeans. 

You gasp as he pushes you down into laying and broke the kiss to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide, almost manic. One leg planted on the ground, the second frozen in the air mid saddling your waist, as if he just just realized what he was doing. His blush caught up with him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do. “D-Do y-you wanna stop?” 

You heared the unmistakable whistle from the tryouts taking place just meters away and it's as if a dose of reality finally broke through your haze. What you two were doing in broad daylight too. “Y-yeah, definitely not here” You don’t miss the look of disappointment on Yuji’s face as he scrambles off of you and helped you up. 

Thinking back, you wondered if things would have been different if you hadn’t said ‘yes’ that time- if you hadn’t stopped and instead urged him on the way every fiber of your being screamed at you to. Would Yuji have stayed in your high school? Or would he have anyway transferred out of there the very next day with no warning and no goodbye. Not even a chance for you to say your condolences to him, or mourn his grandfather death, who was like your own grandfather? Or would it have ultimately not mattered? 

The third time you and Yuji kissed was days before the university start. It was sunny and warm as you waited near re-built Shinjuku station for your friends for a much-needed shopping spree. The university started almost two weeks later than your high school after the summer break and the day coincided with the last time you saw Yuji. Although there was still a feeling of anger, a lot of it was replaced by melancholy and a sense of betrayal. You wished Yuji would explain to you the simple ‘why’- you swore you would have understood. 

But he never did, and despite frequent texting, you always turned down his request to meet up.

You were bitter, not only for having lost your best friend but also because he ruined the plan. The perfectly perfect life plan you both had created in middle school which came crashing down without warning, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. You were still bitter about being left behind- replaced like a pair of gloves and so stubbornly angry that you didn’t even notice Yuji screaming your name until he was just a few feet away. 

You glanced up, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. His arms came to wrap around your waist and he spun you around and around, face buried in the crook of your neck like in all those post-war veteran coming-home pictures. You noticed he looked older, more worn out than his twenties, like he had been through hell and back again. “Y-yuji?!-” You didn’t even manage to finish your sentence as his lips were suddenly on yours. A desperate plea and apology all poured into that one kiss. 

You froze. Your body grew rigid in his arms; you thought your love had cooled, and yet there were sparks between you- no, wait, there WERE actual blue sparks around you. You tore yourself away from his lips, ignoring his sulking pout, as you stared at the specks of blue around you in shock and awe.

“You can see that?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and you turned to face a dark-haired man standing beside a brown-haired woman. Between them was something that you could only describe as a black-and-white demon dog of sorts. It’s horrifying and cute all at once. Although its proportions feel all wrong, there was something like a third eye in the middle of its forehead surrounded by a red mark in its forehead that didn’t look like a mere paint job.

 “And you see him?” the woman asks, pointing a long finger at the animal.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickered between the reminisce of blue specks and the puppy, and then you went back to the unfamiliar duo. 

“Then it’s all good, right? Fushiguro? Kugisaki? We call tell her, right?” Yuji exclaimed, his voice an obnoxiously loud cheer that only piped down once you pressed your hands against his shoulders in a silent demand to be set back down on the ground. 

Instantly Yuji’s eyes, puppy dog expression and disappointed pout stared up at you. You didn’t smile or laugh back at him, in fact, you didn’t even know whether you wanted to know whatever that ‘all’ was. You just felt uneasy, and awkward in your best friend's embrace after two years of absence and an unmistakable bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like you wanted to get the fuck away from there before you were dragged into something you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Oy why is it so important for you to make her a sorcerer anyway?” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, seizing you and your still stunned expression, up and down as if judging your entire worth in that mili-second. 

“Because she’s my best friend of course!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing from the onslaught of emotion that you felt at that moment. 

From anger and betrayal to curiosity and the unmistakable fear as the trio inched closer to you while Yuji kept you still in one place. But most importantly, the unmistakable pang of pain that came with being called ‘his best friend’. It reminded you once again that a kiss for Yuji was just a way to greet someone; like a personalised handshake or a first bump. It meant nothing, and you were a total fool to become so affected by it. To still hope against hope that your life plan could be salvaged. It was foolish because you were the only one to feel that way, 

Or so you thought.  

Author note: Here we are again, for day 2 of Sweetober/Flufftober. I kinda hated writing this fic but fell in love with it on re-read because of how hopeful it became in the end. Hope you liked it too!

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[kamitv]

▷ What You Need

Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)

A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]

You wanted to fuck him.

Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.

A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.

——

You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.

And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.

The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town. 

Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.

Up until a rather particular Friday morning.

Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.

And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”

His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.

“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.

His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.

It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.

And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.

Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said. 

You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.

He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”

“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”

That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“

“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”

Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”

Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”

“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”

The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.

“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.

Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”

His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.

And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.

Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well. 

——

The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.

Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?

That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.

As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city? 

Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.

She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”

“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“

“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“

“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”

The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”

Your face scrunches up, “What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.

To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”

“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“

“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”

“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.

You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”

Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”

“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.

Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.

Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.

The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.

Or at least, you’re supposed to be.

——

But God do you make things difficult.

You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.

Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.

That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.

But again, you make it so fucking difficult.

One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.

Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.

To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.

Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).

And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin. 

And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-

The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.

Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-

“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.

Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.

That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.

He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”

“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”

He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-

“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”

“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.

You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”

Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”

“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”

Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.

To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”

You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him. 

Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn. 

“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.

Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”

Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-

“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.

“Father,” You hum in response.

He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.

Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.

Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.

All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.

——

Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.

It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.

Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had. 

The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.

At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.

Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.

Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.

When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.

Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.

It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.

You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.

Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.

He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.

You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”

“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”

“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.

You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”

You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.

He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”

“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.

Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.

“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.

Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.

Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.

Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”

“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”

You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.

“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.

“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“

He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”

You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.

Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”

He smirks, “Do I?”

“Mhm. How old are you?”

“A hundred ‘n fifty.”

You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”

You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.

To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”

“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”

“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”

Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.

His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”

Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”

“I know-“

“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.

His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”

“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.

Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.

“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?”

He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”

“So?”

“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”

“Yet?” Choso echoes.

“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”

“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”

Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”

“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.

You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”

“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.

“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”

He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”

Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”

“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.

“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“

He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”

“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.

You smirk, “Everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere.”

“Like… even your c-“

“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”

Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”

“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.

“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”

At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.

After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.

His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.

“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”

He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”

“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.

Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”

You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“

“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.

“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”

The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.

“Yes, I-“

“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.

You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”

“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.

“I need-“

“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.

You whine, “But-“

“Speak properly to me ‘nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.

You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”

He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.

Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”

“You don’t know anything,” He argues.

“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper

“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.

The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”

He chokes, “I won’t.”

You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”

“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”

You miss his touch already, “Like what?”

“Watch a movie.”

“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”

It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”

——

And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?

Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.

The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.

Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.

He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.

“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.

His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”

You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”

He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”

“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.

He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”

That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break. 

And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good. 

Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.

He smirks, “Where?”

“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.

Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.

He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.

“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.

You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.

Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.

“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”

You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”

He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.

“No,” You huff.

Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.

Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”

You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.

His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.

“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”

“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”

You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.

“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”

Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you. 

Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”

“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”

He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”

You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”

He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.

Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.

“Cho-“

“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”

“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”

“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.

You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.

For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”

A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.

To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”

The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.

“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”

“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.

“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.

His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.

“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.

He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.

When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”

“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.

“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.

He bites his lip, “Anything else?”

His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.

“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”

“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”

“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.

He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”

“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.

As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.

“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.

“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.

“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”

Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”

“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.

And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.

Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.

“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.

“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”

“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.

“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.

He chuckles, “Stop what?”

“Bein’ gentle with me.”

Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”

You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”

“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.

Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.

“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.

Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”

All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”

Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.

“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.

“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”

He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.

Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”

“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.

He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”

——

That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.

At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.

Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.

He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach. 

Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”

You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.

“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.

With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.

“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.

You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.

Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.

You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.

“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”

If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.

But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.

Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.

“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.

He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.

You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”

“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.

Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”

His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.

Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.

“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.

Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.

“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.

You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”

Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.

He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner. 

Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.

Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness. 

Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back. 

You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”

His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.

Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.

Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.

Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”

His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.

Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.

Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”

“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.” 

“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”

You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.

“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.

“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.

He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”

Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“

“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.

You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.

So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.

The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.

Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.

Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.

Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[sanguineterrain]

Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.

Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...

Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.

I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.

And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.

❤️❤️❤️

This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓

Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.

****

You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.

She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.

You take her home.

Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.

You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.

You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.

You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.

You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.

"Hey, Jaybird," you say.

Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."

You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.

Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.

"That's a baby," he says.

You nod. "Yep."

Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"

"How would that even work, Jason?"

"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."

"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"

"I found her."

Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."

"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"

"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."

Jason pouts. "Are not."

You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.

"Are too. Wanna hold her?"

Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"

You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."

"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."

"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."

Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.

"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."

You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.

"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.

"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."

"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.

"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."

Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."

Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."

You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.

"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.

"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."

"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."

You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.

"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."

[flamingpudding]

All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

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

Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

[kazuko-stuff]

Unexpected Conversations

Reader is Bruce Wayne’s daughter

Relationship: mentioned! Established Wayne! Reader x Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne x daughter reader, Damian Wayne x sister reader, Wayne reader talking with Ra Al Ghul

Summary: based on my written prompt on which Wayne reader gets kidnap by League of Assassins but gets a conversation of life with Ra Al Ghul

You didn’t know how you got into this situation. You and Dick were just having a nice night together in your shared apartment only to get attacked by minions of the League of Assassins. Dick managed to get rid of them but only to kidnap you while he fought back. Now you are being taken by Talia, your younger half brother’s biological mother. You stay quiet for the whole time, knowing Talia isn’t someone you should mess with. At least they weren't tied up but you were still intimidated by her presence. Despite being Batman’s daughter, your father was quite an overprotective father and you could only help out at the cave, since he wanted you to have a normal childhood and you knew you weren’t the vigilante type.

“You're quite the quiet type” Talia’s strong voice suddenly spoke up as you were in your thoughts.

“Umm, I… well you did kidnap me all of the sudden and I know you kidnapped me to lure my father and Damian, isn’t that right” you answered the woman in front of you, not knowing what to say.

“ I guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree” she muttered to herself quietly but you pick it up anyway.

“Are you saying that you initially thought I don’t have anything related to my father except my hair color” you said out loud to her.

“Well your stubborn and smart, I have to admit that”

You then wondered if Talia just complimented you in her own way, seeing the similarities with Damian and his mother, as you remember all the times you bonded with him when he was adjusting his time at the manor as well as getting use to doing normal activities kids in his age usually do, including interrupting date nights with Dick. Speaking of Dick, you hope he would survive your father’s wrath and Damian as well.

—————————————————————————————

(Dick’s POV)

“Tell me that again” ordered the Bat as he glared at his former protege while Damian was sharpening his katana while Alfred almost fainted at the shock of the lady being kidnapped. Nightwing, in all things that terrifies himself when it comes to Bruce Wayne or the Batman, it always has to do with him being in a relationship with his daughter. When the first time he told him how he found out, he purposely sent him to secret missions as a test before that meeting to see if he is worthy of protecting his daughter. He remembers how he purposely intimidated her ex-boyfriend in high school and the time when he had to have the “talk”.

However, this is worse. He not only failed to protect his girlfriend but ended up getting kidnapped by one of Batman’s greatest foes, Ra Al Ghul. He knows it’s Bruce getting understandably scared for his daughter’s safety but he also knows that he will receive his wrath for letting her get in danger.

“Grayson” as Damian stands up after finding sharpening his katana. “I expect you are going to face punishment for failing to protect my sister” he glares at him. “ When we have our daily training next time, I won’t hold back”.

Dick knew this was going to happen. Ever since the little bat came to live at the manor, he grew attached to you since she was the only one who welcomed him with open arms despite the circumstances. However overtime, he decided to purposely get in between in his intimate moments with her, much to his chagrin. You often scold him like a child who stole cookies from the jar, whenever he tries to reprimand Damian for spoiling his dates with you.

“Get ready” as Batman suddenly spoke up as Nightwing and Robin looked at him. “ I guess mother is nice enough to let us know where sister is located at” as he looks at the message being sent to them. “Well it’s the knight’s job to save the princess from the villain” as nightwing looked at the coordinates.

“Tt, you as the knight in shining armor,like in those video games and stories in children’s books. Please, you must be joking, maybe the wandering traveler if anything” he bluntly puts in after seeing Dick’s expression of being a knight of saving his princess.

“Hey, it’s not stupid and besides, when we were kids we often played princess, where I was the knight in shining armor, y/n as the princess that needs to be saved from the monster, with Bruce being the dragon.” He snaps at the little bird as Damian was shocked that his own father was interested in this type of activity.

“Well let’s just get going. Who knows what your grandfather and mother are doing to her. She must be scared of being alone” as Dick frets over the failure of not protecting the woman he loves. “Don’t worry, I am sure that Miss y/n would make it out alright, she is stubborn as her father, so I know her strength will help her persevere” as Alfred gets the bat plane ready.

“ I am willing to fight against my mother if she does anything to my sister” as Damian enters the bat plane.

—————————————————————————————

(Reader POV)

As you got to where Talia wants you, you were surprised that instead of a prison, it was a nice room. Knowing you were taken by the League of Assassins, your best bet was that you were taken to a prison, knowing what they were capable of. But why did you get a guest room if anything?

“ I wasn’t expecting this type of hospitality” as you break the silence after seeing the place.

“ Well knowing the possibility of Gotham's princess being kidnapped may be public, the least I could do is not make it not too extreme. Also you aren’t much of a threat, so there’s that” as Talia responds to you.

“Yeah that type of news is not appealing, but you are aware that my father, Damian and Nightwing are coming, right?

“Yes I’m aware, I even sent them the message of your location here” as Talia looks at you.

“You could have even tie me up or sent me to the dungeons just like the other people you have targeted as well as giving them a threat but you didn’t” as you wondered out loud at Talia

“ Well it’s true we wanted to draw Batman and Damian out but Ra Al Ghul did want to talk to you specifically since he wanted to know the other child of your father” as Talia sits in the chair.

“ I am afraid I don’t have much to offer. Other than being the child of the man you called as your “beloved”. I don’t have any martial art skills nor am not trained as a vigilante. If anything I am just the daughter of Bruce Wayne and Former Lady of the house, nothing more, nothing less.” You admit to Talia at wondering what Ra Al Ghul wanted with you.

“I think that is where you are wrong. You managed to question me and my objectives. You are a strong willed person. You accepted my son, despite the circumstances.” As she looks at you “For that, I must thank you” as she gives a small smile.

You look at her gently, knowing that deep down, she truly loves and cares for her son. “ He still cares for you, Miss Talia, even if he has to fight against you” as you offer a smile.

The woman didn’t say anything else as she turned to walk out but unbeknownst to you, a smile graced her face, when she heard those words.

—————————————————————————————

You then waited, getting ready for whatever Ra Al Ghul wanted to talk to you about, as well as waiting for your father, brother and Nightwing to get here.

Then Ra Al Ghul appears in the room you are in. You then stand up straight sitting getting ready for what questions he will ask. He then sits on the chair across from you. You gulped to yourself internally, fearing what could happen but you know it’s better to stay silent since you don't know what plans he has in store.

“ So you're the young Miss y/n Wayne ?” as Ra Al Ghul spoke up. “Yes I am, y/n Wayne ''you answered his question. “ You must Ra’s Al Ghul, also known as the head of the League of Assassins and the Head of the Demon, am I right.”

“Quite a brazen young lady yourself” Ra Al Ghul chuckles as he is amused that you managed to answer his question without hesitation and are aware who you are speaking too without fear showing.

“You must know why you are here” getting back on topic as Ra Al Ghul prepares some tea.

“From what I heard from your daughter, is that you just want to talk to me since you are aware that I am my father’s blood daughter. Which I question, why do you seek me, other than being Batman’s daughter, since I don’t have any skill or power that you probably want” you asked as you see him prepare a cup of tea for you.

“I just simply want to get to know you, the world of Bruce Wayne lives, when Batman isn’t present” as he prepares himself a cup of tea.

“ Well as you know, he is the CEO of Wayne Enterprise in the daytime…” you start off tentatively, not knowing where to start off.

“ I am aware of that, my dear. I mean he does other than mundane business” Ra Al Ghul cuts off.

“ If anything, he's my dad. He does normal things that fathers do with their children. Make sure they live a happy life full of love. Sure there are some times I don’t agree with him as Batman, but as always, I told him, even before going to work, to be safe and take good care of himself.” You answered instantly because you know your dad is a good man and his desire to protect Gotham comes from wanting a bright future for the people who lived in Gotham. Even when you had a bit of a sheltered life, you knew the world has its dangers simply due to the people in it. You understand you can only help your father, brother and Dick at the cave for patrol but at least you are helping them in your own way. While it was because your father is just being overprotective, you knew that that type of lifestyle isn’t meant for you. The only thing that matters to you is your family’s coming home alive and the people they protect.

“What is it like for him as your father?” Ra Al Ghul inquired

“ He does normal things like any father does with their children. Spend time with their children, doing tea parties, reading bedtime stories and tuck you in bed, play princess with him as the dragon while the knight fights him” you mentioned a few things you and your dad did, as you remembered a time when you did his makeup for your princess tea party at age five.

“But my grandson didn’t do this father's children activities, why is that” he questions again after hearing the things you did with your father when you’re young.

“ Well for starters, he was raised in an environment where he couldn’t do those activities. You and Ms.Talia raised him to be the heir of the league of assassins. Instead of him playing, he spent most of the time with his intense training. With that type of environment, he didn’t know how to communicate without force nor interact with other kids in his age group when he was new to the manor. When he was forced to live at the manor, he was upset because he was away from a place he only knew as home. My father had to have a chance to know him and granted, it’s only Batman who is with him most of the time not Bruce Wayne, or that’s what Damian might have thought for the first few months. While I can say, Talia does love and care for Damian, she didn’t give him a room to be vulnerable with his feelings. With the initial hostility between him and my father along with Nightwing, I only saw him as a boy who needed acceptance and to show him what it is like to have what you called a mundane life. That’s why I always plan family time with my father and Damian, so they could have a sense of normalcy of a family.” You explained as you wondered what is wrong with having a regular life.

“ Aren’t Bruce Wayne and Batman the same person, what do you mean him being Batman to my grandson but not Bruce Wayne ” he wonders out loud to you

“ Even if he isn’t we’re his suit, his Batman attitude still comes up when Damian is going against his orders. As Batman, well you already know his temperament so I won’t explain that part. He scolds Damian, because he isn’t doing the rules of the Bat and Damian feels attacked because his feelings are hurt. I know Damian is doing the right thing but in ways my father won’t agree with. After all, my father isn’t good when it comes to communication, so that’s what causes the initial issues” You offer an explanation to the man in front of you, tactfully while looking at the tea cup on the table. You remember when Dick first came to the mansion something similar happened. He ran away from the manor to find Tony Zucco or when he and your father had a huge argument due to a patrol incident that led him to be more independent as a vigilante.

“ But I have one question” as you look at him directly. “Go on”

“ If you are interested in my father and daughter bond, since you seem to wonder why Bruce Wayne or Batman would do this, shouldn’t you be aware of this already? You have a daughter, didn’t you at least spend time with her ?” You questioned as you noticed that Talia’s parenting must be due to how her father raised her as part of the League of Assassins.

You notice he didn’t answer your question. “ I’ll take your silence as a no. Yes, you did cherish her but you didn’t bond with her as much. For all the long life you always had pride in, you didn’t use it to spend time with your loved ones. I know your goal is to build your version of a perfect world, but it only would create more damage. The perfect world doesn’t exist, since we’re only human. Good intentions could also cause huge problems as well. This may be an imperfect world but I know there is still beauty in this world.” As you answered your own question, knowing his goals of his utopia was with good intentions but seeing the consequences was the result of his worldview getting jaded overtime as well as the Lazarus pit side effects.

“But what about the corruption in the world? Due to that, the world has been tainted. Gotham is known for the crime and the corruption in it. How do you still see the world as beautiful” He challenged you.

“I have already acknowledged the world may have its ugly sides but I have people who taught me to never give up and they have always guided me and in turn show me all the beauty of the world. We all have ugly sides we want to hide but it’s better to accept it in order to be a better person. To improve the world, start with yourself, only then changes will happen. It may be small but it’s something” You answered his question.

You suddenly heard swords clattering. You knew your father, Damian and Dick came to get you out of here. “ You always criticized humanity for being a plague for their corruption but you also did the same things for the sake of power and control. What makes you any different from them ?”

Batman, Robin and Nightwing to the room you were in.

“Let her go” demanded Batman as he got ready to throw one of his batarangs. Robin with his katana and Nightiwng with his escrima sticks as they get into a fighting stance.

“ Fine I’ll let her go, after all she gave me a good conversation I hadn’t had for years” he admits as he stands up while you look at the whole situation, thinking a fight would happen.

“ You're letting us go that easy, what did you do to my daughter?” Batman growls at the DemonHead.

“To be honest I just simply chat with her. Quite a smart woman I say so myself” he admits as you go stand up to reunite with your family.

“I let you go off easily since this young lady here isn’t much of a threat” As Ra Al Ghul simply walks into the corridor.

“Sister, what did he do to you?” Damian asks in concern for you.

“To be honest, I don't know. All we did was just talk. He gave me tea although I didn’t drink it.” You admit since you just had a long talk with one of your dad’s greatest foes and managed to be alive as well.

“This isn’t the rescue I was imagining in my head” Nightwing admits while shaking his head.

“It’s alright, I am okay, mentally well and you guys are here. That's all that matters” you said as you pecked Nightwing's lips.

As you return home with your family in the Batplane, you relay the events that happen with your talk with Ra Al Ghul. He is just a human just like you who happens to have powers from the Lazarus Pit. He has his ideology and philosophy based on his experience but it is also flawed simply because just like everyone, he is human. However, some part of you hopes he could realize there is more to life than achieving one’s goal, something you have to remind your father now and then, because life is fleeting. Not only for the future but to be in the moment with your loved ones.

[spacedace]

Got another DP x DC prompt for yall:

Things in Amity are going bad, the GIW are getting more aggressive and Jack and Maddie are starting to suspect there is something ghostly going on with Danny and Jazz is scared out of her mind and desperate to get them the hell out or dodge before she comes home one day to find her baby brother strapped to a table in the basement or worse.

She knows there's no way she's going to be able to get custody of Danny though (maybe she's still a minor herself, maybe she is over eighteen but it takes more than being a legal adult to get custody of a kid, and Jazz just doesn't have what the government is looking for and she can't risk Danny getting lost in the system) and even if she could, where could they possibly go? Even if they ran away, they don't have any way to survive.

Half out of her mind with stress and exhaustion late one night she ends up digging through their family tree looking for someone, anyone, that looks like they might be able to help, that could at least get them away from Amity Park if nothing else. She and Danny had each other, and literally anything was better then the nightmare creeping ever closer.

And somehow it doesn't even take that long, maybe luck finally shifting their way for once, maybe Clockwork nudging things along just right, but she finds someone.

As far as family relations go, they're on branches as far away from each other as possible while still being on the same tree. And of course the person in question has a pretty massive criminal background and is still super obviously involved in some shady stuff, but Jazz does her research and can see that - criminal mastermind or no - there's no history of vivisecting children or ghost hunting and honestly the Goonion review is pretty glowing.

Besides, Gotham's ambiant ectoplasm is about the same as Amity Park's, it'll help keep Danny (and her, really, as liminal as she is) healthy.

It's a long shot, but short of fleeing to the Ghost Zone and praying their parents don't chase after them, it's all she’s got. So, using one of Tucker's programs, she gets ahold of a phone number and makes the call.

To say that Oswald Cobblepot is surprised by her reaching out and suspicious of her desperate request would be an under statement.

But he knows a con, and this doesn't sound like one. The girl on the other end of the line sounds close to tears, begging him to hear her out, pleading for his help. When he has his people investigate he finds that Jasmine Fenton isn't lying. They are distant cousins - very distant - and the kids' parents are honestly Arkham levels of insane and the kids' teachers have been getting progressively more frantic in their reporting on their concerns. The notes on Daniel Fenton and the number of visible injuries he's been going to school with are particularly concerning. As is the fact that the Drs. Fenton are apparently scientists on top of being entirely mad.

Call Oswald a soft touch, but there's an old childhood wound deep in his heart that has him feeling for the kids, and from what he’s seen of Jasmine - Jazz, she said to call her, and her little brother is Danny, not Daniel - she's got the kind of drive he admires.

And hell it's not as if he can't afford to put them up in an apartment somewhere out of the way if they turn out to be too much trouble. Besides adopting a couple of sad kids from a shitty home can only be good for his reputation, look how well it worked for Bruce Wayne.

Maybe if he plays his cards right, he can set up a play date with the Wayne kids or something, really get some good networking in.

[lokorum]

⋆˚࿔⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡little navigation post!! ฅᨐฅ✧｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆

°⋆.ೃ࿔*''knee-deep in the water" comic tags! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

comic pages and aaaall of the art + sketches!

salamath - "mother said im allowed to have this 2 knives"

shas-hara - big bird with a reputation of hunting people for sport

narine - keeps dodging bullets but would prefer to catch them with a head a couple of times

kuyan - avoided responsibilities by pretending to be dead (surprise, it works)  

ayasha - can successfully sell winter jacket in +40C

sino - emo boi who couldnt be fixed

ketla - "bi" in "bipolar"

tiisha - "please lord im only 7" (1/2 main character!)

yata - winks at you but only when you cant notice (2/2 main character!)

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:little faq + about the blog + fanart tags! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ so, what im doing here?

im working on the ࣪ ִֶָ☾. knee-deep in the water˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ comic!!

oc characters you can find in this blog are mostly all from there, and if not - they are tagged by related fandom! 

₍ ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ ₎ how's the drawing process for comic going?

by now i finished half of chapter one, and finished the intro! as soon as it is done i'll start to post pages here and on the dedicated site once-twice a week! script is already almost finished too!

₍ ᐢ. ̫ .⑅ᐢ ₎ do i still make fanart?

yes of course, just less often than before! 

i was most active in bg3, tes, elden ring, dishonored and tma fandoms, but now im head and shoulders deep in datv!! 

₍ᐢ  ›  ̫ ‹ ᐢ₎ do i take commissions?

​almost throughout the whole year! so feel free to send an email on omnomnomnya@gmail.com - there's 100% chance i'll be free and able to work with you! 

​₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ where can you see commission information? 

on my carrrd!

૮₍'˶· . • ⑅ ₎ა am i open to work on an art trade?

yes!!

♡꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ can i do drawings from ask-prompts?

very rarely, when im in the mood!

₍ᐢ. ༝ .ᐢ₎ do i make speedpaints?

even more rarely than prompts, but you can find some in the tags!

₍ᵔ.˛.ᵔ₎ what software do i use? which brushes?

photoshop 2020 + kyle t. webster dry media brushes!

₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡༘ do i sell prints?

nope! im that boring zero-waste person + i live in a country where most related us/european sites are blocked or simply not working without paypal!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a little about the artist thingy! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if you'd want to support my work - i have boosty (and soon hopefully gonna have a patreon!)  where i post speedpaints, early access to pages, sketches and all that!

thank you so much for reading and please dont hesitate to ask stuff if you'll have any questions! ♡

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

A character reference based on all four Steps of Our Life! It's only "sort of" a height reference as well since obviously they're not 100% accurate (the devs don't have specific heights for everyone to my knowledge).

I did dig into the code to try and get characters at their "normal" heights but there are other matters at play too (example: Nicolas is obviously "taller" than he should be because he needs to be pushed upwards to be visible enough above the game's text box; likewise with other very short characters).

Still, this should serve as either a nice reference guide for every character or a "height reference" in the sense of getting an idea of which characters are shorter/taller than others.

I'm also going to detail some extra notes below the break, including posts from GB Patch's Tumblr that reference any defined heights (with Cove being the obvious one) or general height things, as well as some more stuff about the MC's height in comparison to the three love interests depending on what you pick.

Cove's height is listed on GB Patch's FAQ as 4' 1" in Step 1 (also stated as "mostly average, perhaps a bit on the short side"), 5' 4" in Step 2 (in-game this is defined as "very tall" on the MC's potential height spectrum, as that is the only option considered on par with Cove's height), 6' 0" in Step 3, and 6' 4" in Step 4. A fun fact is that Cove's final height was originally 6' 3" (191cm) instead.

Derek in Step 2 is under five feet tall (this post also lists Cove as "around 5 and a half feet tall" which you could take as either close enough to 5' 4" as stated above or a potential original height he had that got changed). In-game, he's "short" but not "very short", as having your MC be "very short" will prompt narration telling you that you're shorter than Derek, whereas "short" only has you relate to him in smolness generally.

Step 4 Derek is "mostly average." He wouldn't be considered tall nor would he be considered short. His youngest brother Nicolas will "probably end up as a similar height to him" once he's more grown up.

Step 4 Baxter is "taller than average, but not especially tall."

I've been informed that, on the Our Life Patreon Discord, Step 4 Derek's height is listed as 5' 9" (175cm) whereas Step 4 Baxter's is listed as 5' 11" (180cm), so those are their defined heights. Before that, both of their heights had jumped around somewhat. A post from 2019 said that Derek was 5' 11", but a post from June 2021 said that Baxter was 5' 11" and Derek was 5' 9" (so consistent with the Discord). Then there's also another post from July 2021 (you'll have to scroll down for this one) that listed Baxter at around 5' 10" while Derek was 5' 8"/5' 9". If you're insane enough to try and use the character reference too, then Baxter would actually be around 6'1" at minimum since he's taller than Step 3 Cove (though you could also make the same argument that this means the mom trio of Pamela, Noelani, and Kyra must be decently tall as well since they're so close to Cove on the character reference).

I don't have any experience with GB Patch's other game, XOXO Droplets, so I don't know what ages the characters are in it, but since both Shiloh and Jeremy are characters seen visibly in Our Life, I thought I'd also mention that they're listed as 5' 10" and 5' 5" (or 5' 5 1/2") respectively in XOXO Droplets. Jeremy also apparently grows to 5' 8" in his 20s and he's 22 in the Our Life Cove Wedding DLC (I don't think this is spoken of in the game specifically but he's labeled as 22 in the code).

As for the MC and how their height plays into things, "tall" and "very tall" as well as "short" and "very short" tend to be considered the same for the most part in the game's code. It's not that there isn't a difference at all (I would say it's still notable), it's just that sometimes the game may be more vague about height differences. My post about Errands references this where you don't need more athletic points due to being "very short" instead of "short" to give Cove a piggyback ride.

A guesstimate I'd make is that about 5% of the time, the game will take note of whether you're "very tall" instead of "tall" or "very short" instead of "short." Otherwise, you're either "generally tall," "average," or "generally short." There are also other instances (usually with Cove) where the game might just check if you're either generally tall (around Cove's height) or not generally tall (i.e: definitely shorter than him).

This is actually relevant to the heights because, following all above information, one would assume that Step 4 Derek is average, Step 4 Baxter is tall, and Step 4 Cove is very tall going off the MC's potential "height spectrum" of very short, short, average, tall, and very tall, but it's not entirely the case.

A "tall" MC (generally tall) will look "down" at Step 4 Baxter just as he will look "up" at them or they'll look directly at each other if the MC is "average," same as Step 3 Baxter, but--

when the game has any instance of differentiating between "tall" and "very tall" (they never do this for Step 3 Baxter so the base assumption would have to be that he's just average height), things change.

During Baxter's apology in the wedding of his Step 4, Baxter dips his chin to look at the MC if they're "short"/"very short," levels his chin to look at the MC if they're "average"/"tall," and then lifts his chin to look at the MC if they're "very tall." A generally tall MC still has to lean down to kiss him if they choose to do so though.

Also, during the intimacy scene with Baxter (either in his office or his living room), if the MC is "very short," "short," or "average," it states that Baxter is taller than them. If they're "very tall," then Baxter is shorter than them, but a "tall" MC is "almost the exact same height" as him.

This is all a really long-winded way of saying that GB Patch referring to Step 4 Baxter being "taller than average but not especially tall" might mean that he's some infuriating middle ground between average and tall where he's not quite one but not quite the other either (which honestly is very Baxter of him so I can't even be mad).

[jolapeno]

10. cranberry cocktail

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter ten of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3k chapter warnings: SMUT. 18+. jo's bad use and knowledge of DIY. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo made herself horny. see author note at the end.

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It’s difficult not to smile as you approach.

His voice, mid-singing—almost competing with the radio that lingers under his voice—had been travelling out as you walked up to the building. Louder when you pulled open the door, sliding the sunglasses from your face.

A few blinks and your eyes capture his, singing dying out, leaving the original artist blaring around in the background.

Still, you're unable to stifle the smile. Not as you walk closer or as he puts down the tool in hand; least of all when you realise he's looking only half as abashed as you would be if he caught you mid-rendition, watching him dial down the volume on the radio as the door closes behind you.

Frankie had shown you this place once before. Your voice, light, teasing, hand in his: “You’re showing me where the magic happens?”

“I’ve shown you where that happens.”

“Not that magic—or, well, I hope you’re not about to tell me there are even more videos on a different site I need to watch. I’ve been forced to rewatch things lately.”

He’d explained, with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eye, how he’d turned the garage into a workshop. The hours, the pieces he’d started with and the things he’s managed to build, find or bargain for along the way. Even lingered his thumb over the height chart for Luca, the one he told you he began when he first bought the run-down house he made a home.

It was impressive then, but you hadn’t appreciated it as much as you do stepping in today.

You'd been too busy then, watching, studying him. Spotting the way he trailed his thumb across his bottom lip, eyes widening as they tried to smile before his lips as he pointed out highlights he knew you’d have seen from certain videos you’d mentioned.

Now, it's all lit by soft, mid-morning sunlight, looking homely, loved, worn in and appreciated—everything you’d expect from him.

Even if things are out, such as plasterboard and wood leaning against odd edges, everything else has a place. Just like the scent that wanders around and flows as if there’s a constant candle burning, one which includes notes of freshly applied paint, the essence of sawdust and leather. A blended aroma that subtlety clings to his clothes—and then lingers inside your own. A thing which brings comfort, until it seeps in sadness upon the realisation that it's faded from a sweater, bedsheets or your throw after a few days of not seeing him in person.

"Hi, handsome."

He grins, a hello escaping out as his knuckle tips your chin up, your smile back presses to his mouth. Tasting his lips, how they’re tinged with coffee. Frankie planting it more intently as your hands find their way around his waist, heightening it, fingers grasping your cheek.

You swear you could kiss him forever. A thought you know you have continuously, almost every time his mouth finds yours. But you mean it.

Completely. Utterly.

Your palms sliding around, fingers brushing over dry, hard paint specks buried into the soft, beloved cotton of his tee.

“So,” you say when you pull away, teeth biting your lip—finding yourself staring at him, as though his face alone answers everything.

In some ways, you're adamant it does. In others, you know it will.

A feeling that thrums more and more intensely as weeks rack up into months, as your heart flutters in your chest when his eyes hold yours for a second longer than normal.

“What has prompted this little requested visit?”

Grinning, he traces his thumb along your jaw. “Thought you could drill some holes—for your cupboards?”

Smirking, dragging your tongue in a sweeping motion across your lip, you tap your fingers on his waist. “Drill, ay? I didn’t… exactly come dressed to be in your workshop.”

“Wait,” he says, eyes widening, mouth pulled into a line as he brushes his fingers down the fabric of your summer dress that rests along your collarbone. “This isn’t an everyday DIY outfit?”

Grinning, you nudge into him, head shaking—hand grasping a handful of his tee. “No.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, voice dropping, charm encasing each letter as his hands find a home on your hips, “I’ll make sure you don’t get messy.”

A soft laugh escapes you, feeling the way his thumb continues its gentle circling on your cheekbone.

“You on cleanup duty, then?” you reply, the words muffled against his lips. He hums in response, a sound of agreement that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Without pulling away, he gently guides you towards the bench—hands on your side as his chin rests on your shoulder.

One glance at him, and he offers you a comforting smile. Before it comes over him, that voice—the one from the videos. All lightly, but sternly instructing you. Talking you through the steps, before he tells you to pick up the black and orange drill from in front of you.

A lick of warmth slides up your spine, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you press closer to him, your body beginning to buzz from the way he’s pressed against you—his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist.

“We’re going to begin with drilling the holes for the handles.”

Rolling your lips, you rest your head against his. “Okay.”

“What you’re gonna do is lightly ease the drill in.”

“Is that so?”

Clearing his throat, you swear you hear your name, it followed quickly by a “Stop.”

“Stop what, Frankie?”

It’s a grunt. A thing buried in his throat before he takes a measured sigh. His hand rises, gripping the top of the power tool before lining the drill bit with the marked wood.

“Being a tease—now, lightly pull the trigger.”

Blanking your face, staring at him with confusion. “So, push it in and out?”

You watch it hit him—slowly. It washes over him in a few blinks, your hips wiggling against his before he groans again. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m very innocent, Morales.”

“Mierda. You’re the opposite of innocent. And no, it’s straight down. Not in and out—we’re not… we’re not fucking it.”

Giggling, you bite the inside of your cheek, adjusting your stance as you swear his groin pushes into your ass on purpose. Finding a way to mumble an okay, you shift your shoulders in preparation. Asking, finger hovering over the trigger of the drill, if you squeeze it lightly as you feel him nod.

Swallowing, you give it a test. A little click. Hearing it, before you see thin crinkles of wood coming away from the pressure.

“Like that?”

Somehow, all beyond you, you manage to keep your voice steady. It all unwilling to tremble—even though his breath is dancing over your neck. Even though his hold on your hip is tightening.

Then there’s the heat pulsating through your dress—the warmth settling into your bones, skin and muscle from his touch. Your body remembering, recalling—able to know just from his presence what he can do, what he has done, how he can unravel you and make you become a mess all from his fingers, mouth and—

“Bit more pressure this time, baby.”

“You can’t say that.”

Snorting, the air dances over your skin as you swear you feel him smirk. “Oh, Rainy. I can.”

You swear his voice drops an octave.

Sweeping the words over you, making your body tense, muscles twisting in on themselves as you try to focus on the drill in your hand. Stare down at the piece of wood he’s set up for you until it’s a blur. Nodding. Finger over the button, knowing you just need to squeeze—

Perfect, he whispers.

And fuck it makes your thighs press together. Makes something rumble inside of you at the same time as the drill fires to life.

The noise is all loud, alarming—deafening. A hole deepening in the wood.

“That's it, just like that. Perfecto, hermosa.”

Even with how loud it is, you can only hear him.

How he layers so much emphasis on the P, the letter is still skating over your skin by the time the rest that follows it has left his tongue.

You can only swallow. Remaining aware, and yet focused in, on how his hand slides down, fingers teasing the end of your dress—a quickly thrown-on thing, an easy option that meant you could arrive here sooner.

“You’re perfect,” he says, kissing it against your neck as his hand slides under your dress, palm flat to your thigh, dragging it up, and up.

Some part of you, all distant, feels him take the drill, hears a click, before it’s out of sight, out of fucking mind.

Then it’s just thick fingers you focus on, how they slide, rub, torture over your underwear—feeling like minutes, hours, days before he manoeuvres. Before he’s forcing elastic to cut into your skin, before you feel him trace along the places you need him desperately.

“Frankie…”

He drags his nose against the side of your face, feeling the exhale flutter against your jaw before he makes you gasp before it grows into a shameless whine.

“This not what you wanted?”

Swallowing, your eyelids quiver. Some part of you, a present part of you that isn’t lost in the way he’s stroking up and down your slick folds, occasionally catching your clit, that he isn’t going to let you come like this.

Even if he's told you he likes the way you sound, has confessed that he likes watching you unravel; his favourite pastime, his favourite movie and soundtrack.

“Need to hear you, Rainy?”

“Want you,” you pant, breathless.

He fans hot breath on your skin. “Want me to fuck you here, baby? On my bench. Hmm?”

You’re fluttering, desperately to squeeze him—fingers or cock, you’re not in a frame of mind to be fussy.

Mind changing, singing, practically bellowing: please, please, fucking, please. Body thrumming, vibrating, legs desperate to shake—if not for the fact they’re keeping you upright. Your fingers find a place on his bench, digging, barely making a mark against the rest on his workbench. But it’s stable, rigid.

“Tell me, baby,” he says, softer, dripping it into your ear like honey—all encased in air that seeps inside of you and makes you forced to chase his lips.

It’s against them you say please. Kissing a y, an e and a s against his mouth, licking past his teeth, hips rocking into his fingers as he circles and circles and circles—

Then, nothing.

Retraction, emptiness. A desperate whine emerges, rising from the back of your throat until it fuses with the air.

An explanation almost demanded, but his belt buckle undoing silences you. His clothed cock presses against you, feeling how hard he is, the size of him making you clench your thighs as cool air kisses the back of your legs when he grabs a fist full of your dress.

“Gonna get rid of these.”

It’s deft, his finger—hooking in the band of your panties as he drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, letting it fall the rest of the way as the fabric finds a home around your ankles. For a moment they just remain there, not entirely confident you can step out of them until he holds you steady, talks you through it:

One foot, then the other. That's it, baby.

Because your body is on auto-pilot, doing things for you, for him. Like parting your thighs as his hand rests on your back as he softly urges you down. Your forearms find the bench, hingeing at the waist, lying your chest flat on his bench, sawdust filling your nose and stitching itself into the upper part of your dress as you turn your head, flakes sticking to your cheek.

And for a moment, an expanse of time, you forget how to breathe, how to be, where you are as you stare at him.

This man, this person who one day you didn’t know and the next you did—is now yours, all yours. Mine, he’d said in bedsheets after the conversation in the kitchen. Like that you’re mine, Rainy. A man you trust, like, lov—

Frankie, who is all handsome, broad and fucking kind, is now looking at you as if you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted to devour in his life. Do it, you silently plead, beg, metaphorically getting on your knees as he washes you in almond-brown eyes.

He’s a sight you couldn’t have ever made up, least of all this one. Fingers, thick—one wrapped in a bandaid—pulling down on the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes, casting half of him in a shadow that makes you almost moan. There’s just the tip of his nose, just his mouth on show, lips spread and curled into a smirk as he lines his cock at your entrance.

You sure? He asks, fingers brushing over your hip, keeping the fabric back, as you smile, nod, and whisper for him to make you feel good before he eases the head of his cock in. It's then your mouth parts around a silent cry of his name, pussy welcoming each inch of him, opening, as you let him slide all he wants to give.

“Know you can take me,” he hushes, “I’m good at measurements, calculations—“

“Fuck.”

“Fuck, you like that.”

Whining his name, he smirks. Because both the feel of him and the act is something you couldn’t have ever concocted. Fuck, a year ago you wouldn’t believe the person you are either. Not this confident being almost laid down on his workbench, feeling this good, this attractive, all bold—asking for this, for what you want. No flicker of shyness or nervousness.

Then there’s him. A sight your mind is struggling to process. Frankie with his teeth glistening with spit as he stares down at you, as he sweeps that burning gaze over you and grunts at the feel of you. One hand, large, slightly calloused, finding meaning on your waist, the other holding your dress up your spine, pressing down, light, but firm—don’t move, baby, stay still.

As if you ever would.

The stretch is welcomed, a dull ache answered, all buried to the hilt. Remaining there, still.

“Move, please—fuck, Frankie, I beg of you.”

He chuckles. A low laugh.

But he does, pulling out before driving back in, making your vision swim, blur. It all overwhelming. Both the sensation and everything else—scents, sounds and touch. His hips slowly moving, his belt buckle clanging and it’s easier to find yourself draped over the bench, cheeks on the wood, inhaling it—the scent that lives in his clothes, in his fingers and aura.

Frankie, just Frankie. Your Frankie—

“So g—fuck—good for me.”

Your fingers dig, grasp—his cock kissing that spot inside of you that forces your toes to curl in your shoes, your mouth managing half of his name before it fades to a moan. All breathy, doused in whimpers and yes’s falling in a verse that leads to a chorus.

“Feel so—oh, good, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

“Perfect. Feel perfect.”

He moans—low, tinged in a grunt, a hiss, your name etched somewhere in the sound—as he pulls almost all the way out, drawn out, an emptiness beginning to register before he thrusts in. Somehow deeper, somehow filling you more perfectly as you squeeze your grip on the bench.

And you’re close, all light and boneless—but heavy and alive, so alive you feel like fire courses in your veins and you could become more flame than a person.

“Come for me, baby. Right on my bench—fuck, you feel good, so tight—need y’to come. Right here.”

And it crashes against you, all of it. Suddenly unable to smell a thing, hear a thing—you just feel. Feel the sensation of just him and the tip of him hitting that spot which makes you arch as pleasure, all blinding and molten lava rushes through your blood, and flows into your muscles.

All numb and yet tingly.

It takes a moment, but your senses come back one by one, panting, breathless—muscles tired and depleted—as you feel his hips stuttering, the strained noises from behind forcing your eyes open.

He’s a picture, a work of art—a statue that should be carved by someone with talent. Sun streaks in and basks him in a golden hue, illuminating that heart patch on his jaw—the way his tongue is pinned between pearly white teeth, and the vein in his neck throbs angrily as he reaches his own climax.

You clench, aware of it, ogling and admiring pushing him over the edge as he curses, tensing, rigid, pace lost as he spills inside of you, happily taking it all, wishing to wring him dry and ensure he’s empty. Greedy, desperate and fucking needy.

Before his body finds refuge on top of yours, heart hammering against your spine—hat falling, tumbling off onto the floor as the two of you catch your breaths. His hand finds your cheek, stroking his thumb against it.

“Never… I’ve never done that before.”

Smiling, you gaze at him as best as you can. “I like how you drill,” you say, playfully, feeling his laugh rumble through him before he kisses your hairline.

It’s light—perfect.

Feeling the laugh bounce from bone to bone inside of you before he turns and eases you up, chest to chest, murmuring against your lips about a shower, about cleaning you up. And you keep smiling, even more so when he checks your chin and cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing over and over.

“You promised me I wouldn’t get messy.”

Thumb pausing on your cheek, he smirks. “I can clean you up, baby?”

Smirking, you shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “How are you planning on doing that?”

He tilts his head, before slowly grasping the bench, descending to his knees. Your mouth unable to stop itself from falling open, all wide, surprised as he presses a kiss to your knee.

“Might want to hold onto something, baby,” he says, writing it against your inner thigh. “Might take me a minute to make sure you’re all cleaned up.”

NEXT CHAPTER ->

an: while we still have some more chapters of these two, I've been experimenting with a few things and while it won't have any bearing on the main series, there will be some smutty-one-shots that can be read as and when, and if so people wish. they won't require reading of the series, but rather allow anyone to enjoy two people who are becoming comfortable with one another, exploring a few different things. i'm not sure on when the first will be out, but it won't replace normal uploads for them. but rather just be small little things i'd love to include but would feel shoe-horned into my plan. also if there's anything you'd love a bit more of, whether it's a bit more on rainy/frankie or their relationship, my inbox is always open. thank you for letting these pair into your heart.

[starhvney]

BRO. NEW FAN!!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR GENE FICS!!!!!

So much, that I come requesting 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Bully!Gene(if you do that, if not then teenager Gene) x smart or very intelligent reader :)) can be romantic or platonic!!

𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: how ironic is it, when you have to run to someone you’re scared of for protection. maybe, though, you don’t need to be as scared as you are.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: hurt/comfort, slight angst, unsaid feelings from gene but could also be seen as platonic, “i bully her but only i can bully her” ahh trope, i had to give high school gene some masked redeeming qualities because i said so, gene still being gene in high school (so cussing and delinquent behavior, but not towards reader), he scares you a lil but doesn’t actually bully you

𝐂𝐖: reader is bullied by other students, mentions of violence

𝐀/𝐍: i took offff with this trope bro i lowkey wanna write a whole fic rather than a oneshot about this. i relate so much to the goody two shoes smarty pants reader because that’s still me out of high school tbh hahaha thank you for the prompt anon! (also, the scenario was inspired by a clip of a cdrama i saw one time)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you’re not sure why it started. you’re not even sure when.

was it because you were friends with aphmau? or garroth? because you followed the rules and made good grades? or were you just an easy target?

at first, she had only sent glares your way, cerise hair framing that ugly grimace she’d reserved for you when no one was looking. sometimes she’d spit a snide comment or two, aiming to berate you and take you down from the core. but then it got worse. you were “bumped into”. then shoved outright. threatening notes were tucked in your locker when you weren’t looking.

she must have realized people would believe you if you told someone. you had a good standing, kept to yourself, didn’t go out of your way for attention. and she had a reputation to keep, too.

you were shocked, when one day she had stopped. she didn’t speak to you, didn’t hit you. hell, she didn’t even go near you. but it wasn’t because she was done with you, it was because it was going to get worse.

students you didn’t even know started approaching you, accusing you of things you’d never done, berating you, and if no one was looking…

you had wondered every possibility of why and when.

but now, you don’t think of any of that, as a group of boys chased you through the empty halls, spatting unrepeatable insults and threats of violence that you sure weren’t just empty promises. you could barely think—barely breathe and stay ahead—as you sprinted through the side of the school that somehow no teacher nor student could be seen to help.

you still kept your destination set on one spot, a place that would either save you or make your situation a thousand times worse. it was your only option, though, ironically as it was.

bursting through the doors of the school’s outdoor shed, you nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of him—your bleak sliver of hope for survival.

hooded eyes meet yours curiously from under thick lashes and messy black hair, before snapping to the group of boys racing in behind you like a pack of hyenas. his jaw snaps in place, nearly squishing the half burned cigarette that hung from his lips. he sits up from his spot on some stacked gym mats, his purposefully disheveled uniform even messier than usual. they freeze at the doorway, nearly tumbling over the other as their eyes widen at the sight.

“get the fuck out.” is all he has to say, lifting a scabbed-over hand to flick ash in their direction as they scramble back out of sight.

your relief is short lived, you realize, as you’re now left alone with him. you anxiously shy away from his dark blue gaze, your legs wobbling as they try to take you towards the door. you nearly jump out of your own skin when his tall build quickly intercepts your path, his arm lazily reaching out to shut the door and seclude the two of you inside.

“not you.”

you back up as he begins to pace toward you, every two steps you take one of his before you’re finally stopped by the shelf behind you. the scent of a musky cologne and cigarette smoke invades your senses as he also stops, face merely inches away from yours as he looks down at you.

“how did you know i was in here?”

you quickly turn to try and run around him, but his hand connects against the shelf to your right. as you flinch and try to turn the other way his other arm has already pinned you in, leaving you completely trapped.

“i’m sorry.” you finally muster, head ducked as you stare at the ground in front of you. “i didn’t know.”

“so you just happened to run into me here in a place no one has caught me in, yet, huh?” he tilts his head. “you thought it would be smart to run in a secluded area with no escape while a group of boys was after you, is that it?”

you stay silent, fighting away the tears of exhaustion and anxiety biting at your eyes. gene looks away from you towards the door again, plucking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling more smoke from his lungs.

his eyes flick back down to you, watching as your features flinch in displeasure and nausea as some of the smoke catches in your face. a second passes before he drops it to the concrete flooring, putting out the lit paper and nicotine under his shoe.

“you may be smarter than me when it comes to academics but i’m not falling for that. you think i haven’t noticed you watching me? somehow always “running into me” when you’re in trouble?”

the blood drains from your face as you realize you’ve been caught, your teary eyes dreadfully trained at the wall.

“it’s kind of rude to take advantage of me like that and not pay me back…” he trails, calculating eyes trained on every reaction and expression you give. “maybe i’ll make you join my group and do my dirty work for me.”

you curse internally at the tears that fall from your eyes, unable to contain themselves in your eyes as they spill over. an embarrassed moment passed before a busted up hand brushes against your cheek, catching the delicate and salty liquid on his fingers. you flinch, finally facing him as your reddened eyes meet his. his expression is unreadable, making a face you hadn’t seen on him before.

“nah. you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” he finally says, his voice nearly startling you.

a couple seconds more pass as he stares at your silent tears, eyebrows furrowing before he makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. he straightens his posture, lifting his arms away and releasing you from his trap.

“they should be gone now.” he waves his hand, motioning towards the shed door for you to leave when you don’t move as if his intentions had been obvious in the first place. 

“go.”

“what? you don’t want anything?” you ask, voice wobbling.

“i don’t care for ivy’s style. and people like you aren’t any fun to mess with, anyways...” he says, his eyes finally leaving yours for once as he stares off at the wall behind you, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

you hesitate a second more, but you don’t have time to dissect his body language or choice of words, so you quickly head towards the door. you pause one last time before running out, turning to him again.

“thank you.”

and then you’re gone. gene groans, cursing under his breath and running his hand through his hair as he trails to the doorway to watch you disappear back into the school again. you weren’t sure how to feel when your aggressors stopped approaching you so much, their presence replaced by a distant glimpse you’d catch of messy black hair in your peripheral. sometimes you’d even notice sasha or zenix quietly trailing after you in the hall, but you knew better than to question it, gratefully keeping your head down.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[therandomartmaker]

[Image ID: An artwork featuring Danny Phantom, full green excluding his hair and white accents, transparent, sitting on a pile of rubble head tilted slightly upwards with his eyes closed. His hair is wispy, he’s got pointed ears and he’s much more identifiable as a ghost. The rubble includes the F of the Fenton Works sign, a satellite dish of some kind, pipes and concrete. The rubble, and Danny, is surrounded by yellow-black striped caution tape. Above Danny’s head is a conversation, in white, “It’s been ten years,” has been written, and in green, “It’s only been 10 years,” is written. /End ID]

Day 31: “It had been a decade since anyone last lived at Fenton Works. Or so people thought.”

tbh this took like. Less than half an hour to make haha. I may have forgotten to do this yesterday lmaooo. To make up for it, here’s a continuation of this prompt by @cryinginthevoid that i filled, wherein Danny has been stuck haunting the rubble of a ruined Fenton Works after his permanent death, only to later be approached by a very much alive Damian, who is the first person to See Danny in over 10 years. So yep, bonus challenge post 2 under the read more :D

Damian had visited. He’d promised and he’d followed through on it, Danny sitting still and watching as Damian approached, day after day, even after Danny had no more words to say, no more information to give. To quote, he was “a tolerable friend despite your intolerance for proper respect.” Danny had no idea if that was a good or bad thing, if he were to be honest.

But still! It’d been 10 years since he’d to spoken to someone, something other than the air. Damian said his brothers wouldn’t follow him, despite saying he’d bring them to meet Danny during one their tentative hangouts, and Danny supposed that was a good thing. He didn’t want Damian to sound crazy or look crazy for talking to thin air, especially not by his family.

Though, what was interesting was the weird amount of black-haired blue-eyed outsiders hanging around town. The FentonWorks rubble had a pretty good view of most of town, despite it’s slow erosion into dust, so Danny was able to see the several strangers in town whenever he went looking.

Damian said his family was looking into ectoplasm due to it’s relation with the dead, and trying to find if anyone around town knew how to access their information databases. They needed to know if there was a way to relieve “Jason’s” burden of the “Lazarus Rage,” and prepare in the case someone else in the family acquires it. And that ‘Lazarus Pits’ are classified information, but who did Danny have to share it to, no one could talk to him except Damian, anyway.

And truthfully, those Lazarus Pits Damian mentioned sounded like pools of ectoplasm that Maddie and Jack would’ve killed for. Danny could only suggest looking into ‘ecto-acne’ treatments, as from one of the stories of Vlad Masters Danny’d heard, it sounded like the short-term effects of ectoplasm exposure.

—

Damian didn’t know why he was sharing so much confidential with Daniel, but he didn’t seem to mind, and didn’t seem to talk to anyone else. He figured it’d be fine. Daniel needed to know as much context as possible in order to help Damian.

Daniel was strange, he spoke in large amounts, but quieted as though he doesn’t expect someone would respond to him. He rarely moved, and there was something unnatural about him. Perhaps the lack of a rise and fall of his chest, or the way his eyes shined.

Damian couldn’t help but make comparisons to the dead he’d seen. Lightless glossy eyes, pale skin, sallow flesh. Daniel was built like a dying or dead person.

Damian… worried. He’d grown close to the other boy, Daniel’s snark to Damian’s sharp tongue and his acceptance of Damian’s veganism, multiple other factors about Damian never drove Daniel away from him. It was nice, being accepted by someone outside of his family. Daniel’s health was concerning, malnutritioned and Daniel’s reaction time was slow. Multiple things were off-kilter about him, and Damian wanted to know why. So he could help.

Because Danny was his friend.

—

Dick observed Damian. He’d taken to pacing the length of the hotel room, and he seemed worried about his new friend (!!! Dami has a friend!!!! And he’s worried about him!!!), muttering about bringing food to the next time he visited. Dick kinda felt bad about what he was about to tell Dami.

“Richard, why are you looking at me?” Dami asked, stopping his pacing to look up at Dick, a soft half-hearted glare on his face.

“Uh well, Tim…” (fuck! He wasn’t supposed to mention Tim!)

“What did Drake do?”

“Tim told me to tell you that we’d gotten enough information and that we were leaving in two days, just in case something new crops up!” Dick rushed, knowing that Dami would loathe the information, but despise Dick more for not telling him.

Dami needed to say goodbye to his new friend, after all, but from what Dick could tell, they couldn’t even have long-distance communication, because “Daniel Who Liked Being Called Danny” didn’t even have a phone!

Dami’s click of his tongue was expected, and his expression had worsened too. Dick had messed up, but he didn’t think there was anyway to break it gently that Damian would have to leave his newfound friend.

The boy stormed off, leaving the room with a door slam. Dick felt bad, man. Well… Dick did have a spare phone he was free to gibe to someone… Perhaps Danny would like it?

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #17

Nasty Burger explosion happens. In order to not become Dan, Danny tries to do the opposite of what let to his dark reality. He locks away his ghost half and focuses solely on being human.

Vlad has guardianship over Danny and names him heir and successor to Dalv Co. This would be a semi-redemption for Vlad, he would care for Danny but be distant from him. Off of that, if Danny is the Ghost King, he would actually be the Crown Prince until his death with Vlad as his Regent. If Danny isn't GK then Vlad is is distant only emotionally. (Neither option affects the rest of the prompt.)

Danny is in his late 20s, or early 30s when Martha and Thomas Wayne are shot dead in front of their son. Danny relates to Bruce in a way, having lost all of his friends and family in a tragedy. Danny adopts young Bruce, raising him with Alfred (not shipped). Bruce lives mostly at Wayne Manner though Danny purchased a property near the estate to be closer (since he is still a businessman.) When Bruce starts showing signs of wanting revenge and heroism, Danny is there to guide him.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 18 - "We can't do this on our own."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight mentions of DannyXBruce ship

A/N: Inspired by the comments and Reblogs of Prompt 17. I advise to read that one first before reading this, also posting this early because I won't have the time to do that tomorrow. Credits for inspiring this continuation go to @charlietheepic7 and @noxcheshire

After the babysitting disaster Dick had sworn Tim and Damian into secrecy about. The bat-sibling had quickly warmed up to the phantom children and invited them several more times to visit them at the manor. Damian had even doubled his efforts in getting along with them, still believing they were his half siblings, despite Bruce having tried to explain to them in private that this wasn't the case.

Of course that didn't mean that Damian wasn't butting heads with them at all, in fact they were only sitting together like this now because Damian and Dan had gotten into a fight about whether or not Phantom was an adequate partner for Bruce. Dan appeared to have taken offense to that in some form and declared that Bruce was the one not suited to be with his Mom.

The fight ended with Dani, five years old little girl Dani, kicking down both Damian and her own brother, before proceeding to sit on Dan while loudly yelling that he was risking their entire plan of setting up their Mom with Uncle Bruce so Auntie Valerie would stop trying to be their Step Mom. Which brought them back to their current situation of the five of them sitting together in the main hang out room.

Dan grumbled inaudible, arms crossed and glaring at the bat children assembled before him. Dani giggled, nudging her big brother's leg. "Don't go nonverbal now!"

"Nonverbal?" Dick couldn't help but question, causing Dan to snarl at him while Dani still smiled very brightly at them.

"Big Brother sometimes only talks in growls and snarls. Auntie Jazz said it's got something to do with what he's been through. Mom says big brother isn't socialized enough yet." The boy only growled, glaring at them while he pulled the little girl into a hug and made her sit between his legs, making Dani giggle once more grinning bridely. The two Phantom children were seated on a loveseat together now in the general hang out room of Wayne Manor. Dick, Tim and Damian sat across from them on the couch.

The bat kids exchanged glances. Bruce can try as he might, there was no hiding the relation he had with the Phantom kids. There were too many things that added to the fact that the kids had to be Damians half siblings.

Damian looked rather disgruntled, arms also crossed as he turned to return Dan's glare with the same intensity. "Father, may have been trying to hide you from us but his attempts at gaining Nightingale favor are just as pathetic as the excuses he has been giving us in regards to our relation."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "I was not even aware that Bruce tried to flirt with Phantom at all."

Dick patted Tims shoulder in mock condolence. "I have seen the Phantom-Batman dynamic since my days as Robin… It was horrible and painful to watch. Jason can attest to that."

"Mom is as dense as a neutron star." Dan muttered looking away from them.

As if realizing something Dani blinked a couple of times before staring wide eyed at Dick and pointing with one hand at him. "You're the menace Robin! You're the one that asked Superman to throw you high into the air so you could do flips! Mom even said that you asked him once if he could phase you halfway through a wall or turn you invisible to scare your rogues!"

Both Tim and Damian stared at their older brother unimpressed.

"I guess that did happen. Well back to topic!" Dick tried to deflect which sort of worked. But more because Tim got curious about something.

"I don't get how you guys know about us but we didn't know about you two at all. Phantom never mentioned either of you before, not even when he came to visit as Danny. Before we were told about him being Phantom." Tim muttered, completely ignoring Dick as he turned his attention to the two kids. The two children in turn exchanged knowing looks.

"Mom and Auntie Jazz were worried that big brother would get PTSD seeing the Justice League. That's why Uncle Bruce and Superman are the only ones who really knew about us." Dani explained looking up at her older brother who suddenly sported a feral grin, showing off suddenly very sharp appearing teeth. "Though Superman learning about us was more a spur of the moment than intentional telling him."

"Mom was so mad at him." Dan mentioned his sharp teeth glinting as he exchanged a feral look with his sister. It sent a shiver down the batkids' back, making them remember that the kid mentioned he had apparently murdered all of them before. The image of little ten years old Dan standing in a sea of blue fire and laughing like a maniac crossed their minds for a brief moment before they pushed the memories of the babysitting disaster into the depths of their minds again. "He would have beat him up if Uncle Bruce didn't stop him. Instead Mom put Supes through the lecture of a lifetime using us as his how-it's-supposed-to-be example."

"Oh and we met big bro J when Frostbite helped with his treatment!" Dani added clapping her hands together all cutely while her brother on the other hand ended up growling. "He still owns me a spar."

"That… explains nothing." Tim retorted, eyes narrowed at the two kids who only shrugged refusing to explain any more than they had.

Damian meanwhile ended up glaring at nothing as he crossed his arms muttering something about punishing Todd for having been in cahoots with his father and keeping his younger siblings from him. Dick smiled, their youngest apparently really like the thought of having two younger siblings of his own now.

"Can we please get back to topic? About these two trying to set up Danny and Bruce?" Dick tried once more, he really wanted to know more about this whole 'we attempted to set our mom up with Bruce' deal the two kids had going on.

"What is there to question, Richard? My half siblings appear to want for my father and their mother to be together." Damian huffed with his attention being on his eldest brother he did not notice the confused look Dani gave the older boy before looking at her own brother only for Dan to sport a mix of a feral and mischievous grin the girl soon returned when a look of understanding crossed her face briefly.

"So are you guys going to help?" Dani looked at them with big baby blue and pleading eyes. Dan gave them a red eyed glare as if daring them to disagree with his sister. "As big brother said Mom is a neutron star! We can't do this on our own. But now that you guys know you can help!"

The three bat-kids exchanged a look, though it appeared as if Damian had already made a decision on that matter the moment he learned that Phantom was the mother of his half siblings. Dick grinned, pulling out his phone. "If we are going to do this then I am calling in the cavalry."

In other words Dick was going to call in all their siblings as back up. They had been discussing making Phantom, aka Danny Nightingale, a more permanent fixture in their lives before after he had helped Jason. Now they had even more reason to do so with two baby siblings added into their lot.

[sundrop-writes]

My Bleeding Heart

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary:

When Draco finds out that you are pregnant, he can't bring himself to be happy about the news because he doesn't want to bring a child into this wartorn world just to be another pawn in the Dark Lord's games. So, then and there, he makes a very important decision to risk everything in order to protect you and his future child.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage. Angst (with a Fluffy Ending). Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 3,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is pregnant in this fic; this is set during Deathly Hallows and there are a lot of themes from that era - death, blood purity ideals, general violence, murder, mentions of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore; Draco and the reader live in an environment where they fear for their lives because they don't believe in Death Eater values completely and fear being killed for it; Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage meant to carry on blood purity - but they have fallen in love in the marriage; the reader is a pureblood, but I have not mentioned her being related to any canon characters, so her appearance/race is not defined; general emotional angst - Draco fears for his own life, your life, and the fate of your unborn child if they are born into pureblood society; in the first half, there is some arguing/tension between Draco and the reader (but it's mostly due to the emotional tension of their situation); mentions of Dumbledore's death; non detailed mentions of sex (that's how we got the baby, duh) (sadly no smut); passing mention of abortion/pregnancy termination (they both want the child but fear for the child's safety in this environment); semi-graphic mentions of consensually inflicted injuries - Draco gets the reader to cut off the skin with his Dark Mark on it so that he can't be tracked or summoned with it; these warnings make it seem like a really dark fic but the ending is really fluffy I promise; toward the end, the reader and Draco have a toddler who refers to them as 'Mummy' and 'Daddy', and I think that is about it.

Author's Notes: The prompt of 'character finds out you are pregnant' was originally from the fluff prompts list, but because this is Draco, I couldn't help but to throw some angst in here. Because I imagine that if Draco was still living with his parents and surrounded by Death Eaters and the blood purity ideals, he would be very hesitant to want a child of his own because he wouldn't want a child to be tainted by all of it the way that he had been. Because at a certain point, the pride he felt turned sour. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy because this does get fluffy toward the end.

...

Terror. 

That was the very first thing Draco could tangibly say that he was feeling. 

The last two years of his life had been a sickening rollercoaster of utter chaos, and quite frankly, he had become numb to it all. He had to force himself to be numb, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. And currently, survival was his only feasible goal. But this - this news touching his ears was one thing that woke up his senses from that numbness and sent him rocketing into the harshness of reality. This made him feel again, in the worst ways. Suddenly he was nauseous, shaking, blood rocketing against his ear drums, creating a harsh thumping in seconds. 

He wished that he had heard you wrong. 

“Are - are you sure?” He stuttered out, feeling his hands becoming exceptionally clammy as he clutched them around nothing, his feet unsteady on the ground. 

You saw him becoming remarkably pale for someone who was already so papery toned on a normal day, and you worried that he was going to faint. You worried that his harsh reaction meant that he hated the idea of you being pregnant - that he was angry with you. Of course, you realised that the fault wasn’t all on you, that was just nature. But part of you thought that he put the onus on you to take care of birth control, using potions or spells, because he had been worried about so many other things since the start of your relationship. 

Up until now, you weren’t sure if you wanted what they wanted. You weren’t naive enough to look beyond the reason you had married Draco in the first place. You were there to produce the next pureblood heir with him. Originally, you had thought it was romantic, in a sense. But when you had met Draco’s family, the people he was surrounded with, the people who called themselves Death Eaters - you realised that it most certainly wasn’t an ideal environment to bring a child into. 

Killing at the drop of a hat, torturing, murdering the innocent - those weren’t ideals that you wanted your child to be brought up on. 

“Draco, sit down, please,” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to usher him toward one of the expensive chairs sitting in the corner of his room. 

You had stolen him away for a rare moment of privacy between meetings and Death Eaters traipsing around the house. These days, his parents always demanded that the two of you make good on appearances because you were supposed to be the sweet young couple, the future of the pureblood line. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered the question much more harshly, the words hissed through his lips like pure venom as he desperately waited for you to confirm it. 

He let himself be guided by you and collapsed down into the chair, sitting with his head in his hands, ruffling up his usually neat, slicked-back hair with rough, stressful fingers through it. 

Your stomach twisted with your own unique stress as you watched him. You hadn’t seen him so distraught since his first failed attempt on the mission he had been given last year. 

“I’m sure.” You said. “I went to the apothecary and got one of the test potions-” 

“A store bought test potion?” Draco hissed. 

He gave you the harshest glare that you had ever seen from him, which was saying something considering the looks of pure disdain he had given you upon first meeting. His jaw was set so tightly that it looked as though his molars were going to crush in on themselves at any moment. 

Your posture shrunk back, desperately trying to hide from his invasive stare. You wished that you could have burrowed under the floorboards at that point. 

You knew that it was fear and panic about the situation at large, all the death you had been surrounded with compounding onto him. But you hated that he was inadvertently taking it out on you. 

After a moment of you not speaking, Draco continued. 

“I should have made it myself, if you had just told me-” 

“Yes, and nobody would have become suspicious if you were mulling around, gathering the ingredients for a pregnancy test potion.” You snapped back. 

Draco’s face grew even more sickly at this, and you knew that you were both silently on the same page - nobody else in the house could know that you were pregnant. If they even suspected it, then it was over. 

He heaved a sigh, gathering all of his thoughts before he chose one to bring to open air. 

“Were you seen?” He asked, still tearing into you indignantly, talking to you as though you were stupid. 

“No.” You told him, entirely certain. “I wore a large cloak with a hood, it was dark. Nobody recognized me.” 

He gave you a distinct frown that said he was unsure of the truth in your words, and you rushed to trample over his potential sarcastic remark with your own. 

“I suppose they don’t recognize me when I’m not on your arm, anyway.” 

You scoffed out the last part, talking about this fact with distaste even though in actuality it was something you loved. You felt safe when you were with Draco. You couldn’t imagine facing the scowling faces without his arm around you. 

But you knew that’s all you were in this society - Draco’s wife. That’s all you had been labelled as since you had been shipped over from America by your godmother. 

You were the last of your noble pureblood family’s line. Your parents had been killed by Aurors in the name of Voldemort’s cause during the first war. After their deaths, you had been sent to live with your godmother in America, never truly understanding how your parents were killed or why.

The whole reason you had met Draco in the first place - an arranged marriage. Something that would have honoured your parents, apparently. 

The Malfoys had been looking for a pureblood match around Draco’s age, and they had once known your parents, and thought of you as a good prestigious pureblood girl to marry their son. It didn’t take them long to find you, even though you didn’t mingle in pureblood society like they did. (Something they found to be a big shame and a horror upon your parents’ memory.) 

Your godmother sold you out for a ‘dowry’ of two thousand Galleons, and from there, your life became a living hell. 

Strangely enough, Draco had been the one anchor keeping you alive in it. 

Most would say that it was because he was kind by comparison, but truly - he was easy to fall in love with when he was compassionate, sweet, loving in the smallest ways that made you feel safe during some of the most hectic times of your life. 

Draco had never intended to get attached to you. 

But like anything in his life - pining for the crumbs of his father’s approval, digging under all the proprietary for a single genuine gesture of affection from his mother - Draco’s heart kept beating as much as he tried to turn it off. He convinced himself that he was solid stone, but apparently, you were the pickaxe that made him crumble to pieces. After meeting him, you burrowed through the layers of snide coldness and dark humour that he used in an effort to put you off and you found that still beating heart. That soft thing that he hated so much about himself. 

You dug that heart out of his chest, and - despite his best efforts to fight you off, you nursed that heart back to health. And you gave him the closest thing he had experienced to ‘love’ in years. 

On the day the two of you got married, when Dumbledore’s dead body was barely cold, Draco said his vows to you with nothing but honesty in his heart. And that night, he made love to you with intense passion, held you in his arms as though you might slip away if he didn’t grip onto you tight enough. And only after you had fallen asleep in his arms, was when he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew that they now had one more way to make him hurt if they wanted to. They could kill him, they could stop the breath in his lungs, but he would die a million deaths through you being hurt in the smallest of ways before that happened. 

And now - with this utterly horrifying revelation, they had new ways to hurt him. He should have died a lone man. He should have let them kill him instead of agreeing to any of this in the first place. He shouldn’t have learned to love - he shouldn’t have grown these new limbs that they could cut off savagely and tear apart in front of him. 

“I got another one.” You announced when the room had grown too quiet, silent tears streaming down Draco’s face as he sat in intense contemplation. “Another test potion. An extra. I figured you’d want to see it with your own eyes.” 

Even though the two of you had only met two short years ago - you knew him too well. You knew that he would want visual confirmation before his own eyes. 

“Get it. Please.” He said, trying his best not to let his throat drown in these tears. He wouldn’t be reduced to sobbing. 

You went to your cloak, which was hung on a hook in an opposite corner of the room, and grabbed the potion vial out of your pocket. Your shoes clacking against the floor made a terribly hollow soundtrack to the whole thing as you ripped off the small tag that was tied to the neck of the potion bottle and handed it to Draco. He read the instructions on it while you uncorked the potion. 

It was simple: you put some sample of your DNA in the bottle - a hair, a small bit of blood, something like that. And then if the potion changed colours to glow white, it meant that you were pregnant. If it made no change from its original, soupy grey colour - then you weren’t pregnant. 

He watched, holding his breath as you plucked a single hair from your head and then dropped it into the now open top of the bottle. When the hair made contact with the liquid, it bubbled slightly as it dissolved. Then - after only a moment, the bottle began to shake roughly in your hand as it changed colour, and surely enough - it glowed brightly white. 

You were definitely pregnant. 

Draco’s nausea increased. And then - in a moment, he felt a fierce sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was as though he had been slapped sharply across the face, woken up from the blind numbness he had been feeling. He knew at that moment that he needed to take action. He couldn’t simply stand by and let things happen around him anymore. He could simply sit around hoping for safety, hoping for some miracle to save the two of you. 

“Happy?” You scoffed. 

You took Draco’s lack of words as a negative - a sign that he was certainly unhappy with the news. 

Not that you were entirely thrilled under the present circumstances - you were scared, stressed, and hating it because you had always wanted children, but not like this. 

You placed the potion down on the nearest table and stormed off to the bathroom attached to Draco’s bedroom. He chased you, catching the door before you could slam it closed and lock it. 

You conceded to his movements quickly and simply turned to face the sink, unable to look at him right now. You turned it on, splashing cold water on your face, trying your best not to freak out because clearly he was already playing that role. He walked up behind you, gently pressing his body into yours. Even under these circumstances, you found his presence so comforting. You found his body behind you to be nothing but a wall of safety, and you couldn’t help but to lean back into him, your eyes still tightly closed. 

Draco reached around you and gently pressed his hand into your stomach - you held back tears of your own now. Clearly, you were both thinking the same thing. Thinking of the unborn child that you both needed to protect. You placed your hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch as he flattened a palm across your stomach. 

It was a world shattering revelation to know that his child was resting under his hand. 

“No one can find out about this.” He muttered quietly into your neck. 

It was something Draco dreaded - them finding out about your pregnancy. 

This is what they had been waiting for. This was the reason for the marriage in the first place. This was the pureblood heir - this was their chess piece. 

Draco wouldn’t let his child become another pawn in their games. 

“It’s still early.” You choked out quietly. “There are other potions. We could-” You choked on your own words, unable to even speak it aloud. 

Draco dug his fingers into the fabric of your shirt protectively, quite insulted at the insinuation. 

“No.” He replied, his voice rough with anger. “Unless the idea of being pregnant with my child is so utterly horrible to you-” 

“It’s not that!” 

You screeched, forcefully turning in his arms, wanting to face him. He kept one hand on your hip, and moved the other up to gently grasp your cheek, thumbing away your tears as they gathered. It was that gentleness that always got you. His natural instinct to comfort you.You leaned into his touches as you continued. 

“I want this baby more than anything. I - I’m just terrified they’ll see that as a weakness.” 

You knew it was the truth. Especially when Draco’s sullen face confirmed it. In this circle, loving anything or anyone was a weakness that could be exploited. 

Draco leaned in and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting the single, solitary moment of peace wash over you. 

“I’ll protect you.” He declared, his voice whisper-quiet, but nearly broken with the intensity of his words. “Both of you.” He added this on as he brushed his palm over your stomach once again. 

Again, you laid your hand over his, uttering quiet assurances of love toward your unborn child. 

“Draco, how-?” 

He didn’t let you finish the question. 

“We’ll leave. We’re leaving. Tonight.” He declared firmly. 

It was something you had suggested before - to protests from Draco, many scathing comments poking holes in your plans. His parents would be killed if he left. At this point, he had to surrender to the idea that they could take care of themselves - that they had made their bed and they had to lie in it. But now that he had the Dark Mark, they would be able to find him, wherever he went. But he would find some harsh way around that. 

Now that he had so much more at stake, he couldn’t care if his parents died because of his actions. He had so much more that he had to protect. 

“I’ll cut off my bloody arm if I have to.” Draco mumbled quietly, and then turned sharply from the bathroom, leaving to pack. 

… 

“Daddy, Mummy’s not being fair! She won’t let me play with the jellyfish!” 

“Draco, can you please explain to your daughter that jellyfish are dangerous and she can’t play with them?” You replied, trying your best to haul your toddler away from the rough rocks at the water’s edge where the creature had washed up. 

“Love, why don’t you come and play with your toys over here?” Draco posed, trying to draw her attention toward something else. She was much like himself as a child - determined, stubborn, and wouldn’t do anything unless she believed it was her own idea first. “Come and show Daddy how to build a sand castle, hmm?” 

She seemed to perk up at this. She was clever, and over-eager to show off her skills. More than eager to show her father how to do something properly if she felt that he wasn’t doing it right. This happened with everything from the way he spread marmalade on his toast to the way he tied his shoes - something she had just learned how to do that she was eager to show off her expertise in.

As she tore out of your arms and trudged across the beach to scoop some sand into her bucket, Draco had to be thankful as he watched you follow slowly behind. Purely thankful of the fact that the biggest danger your daughter had to worry about was something like a stray jellyfish washed up on shore. 

Three years after escaping a life of servitude toward the Dark Lord in England, you and Draco enjoyed a quiet life with your daughter Aster in France. 

You sat down beside Draco with a huff, picking up the book you had previously been reading. You flashed him a grateful smile as he listened to Aster’s detailed instructions about how they should build their castle. He gave you a wide grin in return, and you felt your insides tingle. His smile used to be something as rare as a Basilisk, but now he wore it proudly and more often - he wore his happiness without restraint. 

With the short-sleeved, light linen shirt that he had on for the beach, the scar on his forearm was fully visible. It reminded you of the brave choices he had made on that night three years ago. 

You had convinced Draco not to cut off his arm completely, but the two of you knew that the Dark Mark needed to go. Otherwise, the two of you could never run far enough, you would have nowhere to hide. So now he sported a large scar where you had held him down and cut the skin off with a sharp knife. That night, his parents had found his room empty, save for the flap cut-off skin in the middle of his bloody bedroom floor. Luckily, you had a talent for healing spells and Draco had been able to knick a few good potions from his family’s cupboards before the two of you left. 

On the outside, it was jagged and ugly. But when he looked at it, it reminded him of nothing but freedom - of the love you had committed to him that day, to your unborn daughter. 

With a couple thousand Galleons in gold taken from his parents’ stash, the two of you started a new life. You were untraceable and happy. And though there was intense relief when you read in the papers that Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord and that meant the war was over - the two of you didn’t have any plans to go back to England anytime soon. 

Not when your new life was this good. 

“-and see, you need to dig down until you find the sand that’s wet, that makes a good castle-” Aster drawled on, piercing her toy shovel into the ground frantically as she spoke. 

Draco nodded, giving her a smile as he followed her instructions. “Yes, yes. I see. Very smart girl.” 

He had gotten the two of you away from that life, and not for a moment had your daughter ever known the kind of pain or fear that you had. 

“Daddy’s learning a lot today, isn’t he?” You remarked, giving Draco a sly grin. 

“Good thing I’ve got this smart girl here to teach me,” He said, leaning over and giving Aster a kiss on the forehead. 

That was another thing that made you fall even deeper in love with him - the droves of affection he gave to his daughter. Now that he wasn’t being watched so closely, now that he wasn’t expected to be the picture perfect son, he could love her exactly how he wanted to. He didn’t have to worry about propriety or appearing weak. 

Aster giggled at this, and Draco blew raspberries on her cheek before kissing her again. She then rallied Draco up to go to the shoreline for a bucket of water. As you watched them walk hand in hand, you felt your heart ache from how overwhelmingly full of love you were. 

Somehow, you found yourself endlessly thankful for the rocky road of fate that had brought you here.

[five-rivers]

vacation in camazotz

@rgbyshipper101

.

“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  

“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  

“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”

“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”

“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”

“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”

“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”

“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  

“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”

“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”

“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”

Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  

“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.

“Yeah,” said Danny.

“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”

“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.

“Yeah.  So?”

“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”

“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”

“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  

“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”

“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”

“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”

“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”

“And?”

Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”

“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  

“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  

“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”

“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”

“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  

“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”

“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 

They continued playing the game.  

Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”

“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  

“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”

“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”

“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”

“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”

“Normal for them.  For my parents.”

“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  

“Working on the portal.”

Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”

“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”

“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  

“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”

“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  

“They thought they could make a teleporter.”

“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”

“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  

“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”

“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  

“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”

“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?”

“Sure,” said Sam.  

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”

“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”

Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”

“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”

“The sky was creepy?”

“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”

“What?” asked Sam.  

“Gravity was a pyramid.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”

“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”

“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  

“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”

“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”

“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”

“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”