#Should I tag this computer fucker

[craftykit1]

I can never decide whether computer internals should count as gore, or something sexual to a robot. So the obvious solution is to make it both.

[pikolswonderland]

I feel like their ship name should be “ComputerBug” or something like that, who else agrees with me?

…

Yeah you know what that’s a bad way to start a conversation, let’s start over. Hi, I’m Pikols, and have became very obsessed with these two fuckers recently-

[snapewife-divorce-lawyer]

counting down the top 10 sexiest droids in star wars.

i’m 100% serious btw. this is based solely on my memory so if i forgot your fav, feel free to comment

#10

this guys from a new hope! now i must somewhat shamefully admit that this is based entirely on looks. but i mean come on look at it. instantly clocked it as a freek

#9

these annoying fuckers from clone wars. this goofy ass attempt to make battledroids more intimidating did at least produce a droid i wouldn’t mind coming home to every night. these guys are huge brats too. excited to see how that plays out in more intimate settings

#8

it’s just something about it. i can’t put my finger on. its so resolute and sinister, and yet it is not unlike a a wild rabbit. it’s delicate hands and big eyes make me want to care for it. i want this thing to call me mommy.

#7

the ferryman from the mandalorian. he is so dutiful. a powerful aura. he looks like he could hold me tight in those big strong arms

#6

i could fix him

#5

look we all knew this was coming. he’s powerful sexual presence it’s simply undeniable. the baddest bitch in star wars just barely beating lando. i’ve chosen the sexiest picture of him that i could find. enjoy.

#4

battle droids but specifically the ones with paint on them. i think these would have the closest analogue to human intimacy of any on this list. and even then, kissing them is an exciting geometric chalenge

#3

sexiest picture in this post by far. oh my god these look inside books. should i be tagging this as nsfw? this diabolical baddie even deploys one of my favorite droids ever. making her the only droid milf that i can think of.

#2

gonk droids. but specifically gonky from the bad batch. i think this one is probably the most indescribable. i can say little details like how he kinda reminds me of 80s computers and i love 80s computers, or how the simplest shape can sometimes be the best, or how cute it is when he kicks his feet in the air while he is being used for weightlifting, but none of it really adds up to how i feel

and the number one sexiest droid in star wars (and it’s not even close) is:

chopper. obviously.

dilf dot com. this guy has such an attractive personality. beyond words how wonderful his design is. one of my favorite star wars characters and one of the best droid designs

[2baabbies]

🖤 Knee Socks (Changbin x Reader) 🖤

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

(decided to crosspost this today for all the changbin fuckers, I hope you like it 🫶🏻)

Pairings: established frenemies changbin x reader, to lovers

Words: 4100

Summary: Changbin stops by uninvited to pick up the jacket you borrowed from him. You are annoyed that he has interrupted your down time on your day off, but maybe he’ll find a way to make it up to you?

(inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song!!)

Humour + Fluff + Smut

afab + fem!reader

CWs: reader and binnie are mean and they swear at each other but they actually looove each other, playful insults are thrown around, picking on your crush to hide your real feelings??, jokes about murderers/getting murdered, gamer girl!reader, changbin projects on reader based on how she’s dressed (but they’re both down bad so it’s fine)

Smut Tags: taunting/teasing, explicit consent because consent is sexy, big dick changbin, changbin sock fetish, slight dom dynamics but reader and bin are both kind of switches in this one, changbin going down on reader, some edging, vaginal fingering, begging, praise, slight degradation, handjob, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, confessions during sex

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

The fourth phone call in three minutes prompts some concern, so you forfeit your competitive match to give the caller your full attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you doing?” Changbin responds casually.

“I’m trying to rank. Is something wrong?”

“Rank? Christ, are you playing that stupid game again?”

“Felix is two whole levels above me!”

“… So?”

“Felix isn’t even good, he’s not allowed to be two levels higher than me!”

There is a pause on the other end and you think he may have hung up before he speaks.

“So that’s what you’re doing? Wasting your day away on your computer?”

“Why are you complaining? I went out with you and Chan last night. And I don’t have another day off for two weeks, so I have to grind as much as I can today. And fyi, you’re putting me at a disadvantage. I just left a match to answer your stupid call because I thought you were getting murdered or something. That could’ve been a win.”

“You think I would call you if I was getting murdered?”

“Yeah, I think you would. You know why? Because you’re stupid.”

“Hey hey hey, be nice.”

“What do you want? You’re wasting my precious time.”

“You stole my jacket last night, e-girl, I’m here to get it back.”

“I’m not an e-girl- wait, you’re here? Right now?”

“Wasting away in the lobby. Waiting for someone to come and murder me.”

You stand up from your chair and pad out of your room to your intercom. You hang up your phone and shout into the speaker.

“Quit loitering, shithead!”

“Fuck you!” Changbin shouts back.

You unlock your apartment door then buzz him in.

“Doors are unlocked. Your jacket is on the couch. Get your shit and get out.”

You hear him giggle maniacally as he opens the now unlocked lobby door and roll your eyes before returning to your bedroom. You quickly queue for a new match and put your headphones on. You join in immediately and the sound of Changbin entering your apartment is drowned out by the sounds of the game. You think you hear him say something from the other room but you opt to ignore him to maintain your kill streak. The match ends with a win and Changbin startles you as he speaks up beside you.

“You have an addiction, you know that right?”

You pull your headphones down and glare at him.

“Dude! What are you still doing here?”

“Look at this,” He picks up one of the many empty energy drink cans scattered across your desk, “You’re going to have a goddamn heart attack. I told you to lay off these. And your desk is a mess!”

“Shut up! Why are you in here?”

“You left your door unlocked. Not safe. That’s how murderers get in.”

You groan.

“Stop lecturing me! You were two minutes coming up, at most.”

“Yeah, but what if I wasn’t? And what if there was a murderer who was waiting just outside your door? Did you think of that, Ms. Noise-Cancelling-Headphones?”

“But there wasn’t a murderer! You’re just an idiot!”

You spin your chair towards him, clenching your fists in exasperation. He huffs and crosses his arms, his blue jacket slung over his broad shoulders. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he swallows before looking away.

“What the Hell are you wearing?”

You look down at your attire as you sit cross-legged in your gaming chair. You had expected to spend the whole day inside, so your outfit was not exactly guest appropriate but it suited your personal comfort level just fine. You are wearing a thick oversized sweater that drapes over your lap, no pants, topped off with fluffy socks that cover your legs and end just above your knees. The sweater hangs low, doing little to cover your chest and cleavage, and the socks squeeze the plush insides of your thighs. Normally you would have been more embarrassed dressing this way in front of your friend, but Changbin had not been invited into your room and you were still annoyed at him for taking up your personal time.

“What’s wrong? They’re just my pajamas.”

“You sleep in that? Fuck, you really are an e-girl.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s comfy. And look, the socks have beans.”

You lift your leg to show the bottom of your foot, where cat paws are printed on the socks. He slaps your leg down firmly.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why? There’s beans!”

“I can see that.”

You notice a dark blush dusting his cheeks as you go to lift your leg again. This time he holds your leg down by your thigh to prevent you from lifting it.

“Would you stop that? Have some modesty will you?”

“Modesty? They’re cat socks.”

“And you’re wearing them like some sort of pervert.”

You curl up in your chair and turn back to your pc.

“Lee Know would appreciate them.”

“Yeah, he probably has a catgirl fetish. He’s your target audience.”

You glare softly at him.

“I’m telling him you said that. And there’s no audience. This is just how I dress when I’m alone.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s not supposed to be weird men in my room!”

He blinks in surprise then gapes, offended, at your words.

“I am not a weird man. Take that back.”

“You just called me a pervert. Because of cat socks.”

“I’m sorry! But don’t flash me!”

“Flash you?”

He points at your lap, and this makes you blush. All you see is the gap of bare flesh not covered by your sweater or your socks. You throw your hands up in defeat as he gestures impatiently, and his attention on your thighs suddenly makes you self-conscious. You slap your hands down to cover them.

“There! Happy?”

“Not that! You were- your legs- just don’t spread your legs open when you’re not wearing any clothes, yeah?”

“These are clothes.”

“You’re not wearing pants, and you might not be wearing underwear either.”

You scoff.

“You think I’m not wearing underwear? Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I’m not a freak.”

“Prove it.”

You peer at him.

“That I’m not a freak?”

“That you’re wearing underwear.”

“You’re weird as fuck man.”

You kick your legs up on the desk, knocking a few cans to the floor in the process. Changbin grumbles about your slobbish habits and picks the cans up, then storms out of your room. You wait a moment for him to return and when he does not, curiously get up from your chair to check on him. You spot him in the kitchen from your doorway and pause to watch him. He has his hands braced against the counter and his head lowered as he takes measured breaths. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you, his jacket is still slung over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Your eyes flit over his arms, flexing as he grips the counter. Then they roam over his black shirt, tightly fitted over his biceps and abs, then down until they land on the unmistakable bulge in his slacks. You look back up to meet his gaze. He looks wrecked, watching you with heavy eyes as his cheeks burn with shame.

You jump as something falls in your room and hits the floor, bringing you both out of the silent trance you had been in for who knows how long.

“What was that?”

You shrug.

“Murderer. Ghost.”

“Ghost?”

“My apartment’s haunted. That’s why I never have anyone over.”

He laughs with a hint of strain.

“You’re funny.”

“Changbin.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll go, just give me a second,” He rasps.

You do not give him a second. You clear your throat and tug your sweater off in one quick swoop. He stares, wide-eyed, as you toss it to the floor and cross your arms. You stare back at him, wearing nothing but a comfy sports bra, your underwear, and your knee socks. The underwear are lame, not even a cute pair. They are the kind with a little satin bow, pink with faded prints of flowers and bunnies, and a small rip in the frilly waistband. There is nothing sexy or enticing about them.

Changbin’s cock strains against the zipper of his pants, no doubt aching to be released. He exhales slowly as his eyes skim over your body. He audibly swallows then looks away.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before. You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

He groans and throws his jacket to the floor then begins crossing the room, tearing his shirt off next in the process. You back up into your room, tripping over another discarded can then falling back on your bed. You sit up just as he enters the doorway. Suddenly, he pauses. He grips the top of the doorframe, giving you a clear view of his muscles at work. You nonchalantly check him out as he pants softly. Then, he points at you.

“You’re the devil, you know that right?”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“Are you trying now?”

You gnaw on your lip and eye his crotch again lazily. Then you shrug.

“Not particularly.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Look at how you’re dressed.”

“I didn’t dress to impress anyone today, Binnie. Who would even see it? Look at me, why would I wear ratty underwear and a sweaty sports bra if I was trying to look sexy? I’ve been a good girl, you’ve been the bad boy thinking dirty thoughts.”

You emphasize your statement by propping your legs up and spreading them open. He shivers and takes in the clear view of your scantily clad figure.

“y/n,” He says seriously, “I need to know before we go any further if you want this? I’ll stop the moment you ask, I promise, but I want to know before I do something stupid if you even want to keep this going or if you’re just teasing me. Because I… really want you, and I think I’m gonna lose it if we keep this up for much longer.”

You smile and respond softly.

“I trust you, Binnie. I know you would never hurt me. So whatever you want to do, you can do it to me.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Take your panties off, please.”

You smirk at his hesitant order but obey it. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your panties and slide them off, taking your time and keeping your legs spread as you complete the process. He watches you greedily, drinking in the sight of you as you pull your bra off next. You discard both garments to the floor carelessly, then dip your thumb in the cuff of your sock and begin pulling it down.

“No. Leave those on.”

You pull your hand away, fluttering your fingers playfully and tilting your head. He finally enters the room, crossing slowly and kicking the can away when he meets it. He stops at the end of the bed. You hold your breath as he stares down at you, and watch as he reaches down to caress your ankle then gently grasps your calf. You let out a shaky breath right before he drags you to the end of the bed by one leg. You gasp as the bottoms of your thighs come flush to his knees.

He meanders fixing your knee socks one at a time. He tugs them up to hug your thighs and runs his thumbs just under the bands to touch the soft skin beneath. You shudder when he looks at you, then grabs your other thigh and squeezes both of them. Your legs quiver as he holds them open and massages underneath your thighs.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?”

You nod and he shakes his head.

“Say it.”

“I’ll tell you. But I don’t want you to stop. I really don’t want you to stop.”

Changbin falls to the floor on his knees and grips the tops of your socks, he then hikes your legs over his shoulders. You gasp and clench your fingers in the bedsheets when he dives in to lap at your pussy.  You throw your head back and release a pitchy moan as he slowly mouths at you. His fingers curl to stretch the fabric of your socks and your thighs hug his face as he prods you open with his tongue. 

Despite how ruined he looked and how wired he said he felt, he eats you out with an astounding amount of restraint. He rolls his tongue inside between filthy open-mouth kisses, eyes boring into yours as he makes obscenely wet noises. You are not sure if they come from his saliva or your arousal, but it makes your core ache nonetheless. You throw one hand against your forehead and slap the other down on the bed as he continues his tortuous pace.

“Changbin,” You whine, the last part of his name fading off in a squealing moan.

“Mhm,” He peppers a few kisses on the insides of your thighs and nuzzles his cheeks there gently, “What is it, baby?”

“Stop teasing…”

He punctuates his response with a long, deep, kiss right on your clit. You cry out in frustration as he smirks down at you.

“No.”

“Binnie…”

“You teased me, it’s my turn, honey.”

You huff and mewl as he resumes eating you out.

“But I… I didn’t…”

He groans, rumbling your heat as he does so. You buck your hips and moan as he begins picking up the pace, then breaks away. You whimper and glare at him as he licks his lips clean.

“Stop…”

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks breathlessly, “Or do you want me to give in to you?”

“Will you please just fuck me?”

His breath hitches at how soft and desperate your voice sounds. He shakes his head and brings his lips to your heat again.

“Why?” You cry, tears pricking as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

“Shhh, patience, baby. Patience.”

You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you grind against his face. He finally grants you relief when he props his elbows on the bed, your thighs still straddle his face, and he pushes three of his fingers between your folds. He buries his face in your heat and fingerfucks you, continuing to do so until you climax. You can only make mindless, breathy, sounds as he stimulates you through your high. You grip the bed sheets and squeeze your thighs together on instinct, mind going blank as pleasure pulses endlessly through your core. He holds your thighs open and continues suckling at your clit, watching you fall apart from his tongue. 

Slowly, he stops and lowers you on the bed. He lets your legs fall to his sides and presses chaste kisses over your thighs and abdomen. Your legs twitch and you let out a wrecked moan as your pussy throbs. His hands roam sweetly over your thighs, petting and soothing you to relax.

“There you go. Good girl. Wasn’t that worth waiting for?”

You make a short, annoyed, sound.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

He chuckles and stands up, unzipping his slacks and pulling them down. You let your head loll to the side as you watch him. His cock pitches a tent in his boxers, standing proudly as he shucks his pants off. He takes his time rolling the band of his boxers over his length, no doubt enjoying your attention. You bite your lip as he strips himself down then kneels beside you on the bed. You run your hand over his thigh and give a teasing squeeze, then look up for his reaction.

“Mhm.”

“Well?” He murmurs.

“You’re big.”

He snorts, his cock stands proud and drips precum as he moves over you.

“Yeah. It’s a pain.”

“Not for me.”

“Oh? You can take a big dick right now?”

He taps his fingers against your pussy and chuckles when you whine and roll away. You glare over your shoulder as he rubs your hip.

“You’re still too sensitive, baby.”

“And whose fault is that?”

He rolls his eyes.

“My fault for giving you an amazing orgasm, I guess.”

“Yeah, how are you going to get your dick wet now? Stupid.”

His cock jumps and he groans softly at your chiding.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Your tone is more insecure than you wanted it to be, but there is no way to take it back now. Changbin’s eyes soften and he rolls you over to face him. His hand comes to cup your cheek as you avoid looking at him.

“Is that what I said?”

“No.”

“Right. Do you need to hear me say it?”

You nod shyly and he shoots you a soft smirk.

“I want you. I need you. You’re so beautiful.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay-”

“I want to make you feel loved. I want to take care of you.”

“Oh, so now you want to be romantic? What happened to the teasing and manhandling?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Well, that was when I was hungry, baby. I’m not thinking straight until I’ve had my fill.”

He leans down, hovering his lips over yours.

“Are you thinking straight now?” You murmur.

“No. You’re still making me crazy.”

You giggle and brush your nose against his.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Kiss you?”

You nod timidly. He chuckles as you both close the space between you and share a slow, sweet kiss. You sigh into his mouth as he pets your cheek with his thumb.

“What about now? What do you want me to do?” He asks.

“Fuck me?” 

“Hah… I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, baby.”

“Pretty big talk for a guy that got hard over socks.”

“Well. They are on you.”

“Shut up.”

You kiss again, a bit more heated. Changbin melts into your arms as you pull him closer and he grinds against the crease of your hip. You giggle as he moans and chases the friction a second time.

“Can’t fit your big dick in my pussy? Just gonna hump me like a dog instead?”

He groans and raises his hips up, his cock still hangs and drags over your abdomen.

“You’re so rude. I’m being so sweet to you.”

“Gonna cry about it?”

“Would that turn you on?”

You shrug and give a teasing grind against his thigh. He curses softly and drops his head.

“Don’t make me beg, I might really cry then,” You laugh and he whimpers, “Please?”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

You giggle and roll away for a moment to grab lotion from your bedside drawer. When you turn back he shoves his face into the crook of your neck and lets out a shuddery breath onto your chest. You clutch his head close and kiss his forehead as he props his leg over yours. You lube your fingers then slip them between your bodies and around his length. He jerks his hips impatiently as you stroke him slowly.

“y/n…”

“Yes, baby?”

“F-Fuck…”

“You like that?”

“Mh-hm.”

He pants and pulls you closer as you work your hand around him. He curses and throws his head back to gaze up at you. Your touch slows as you watch his lips part in a small whimper.

“Please,” He breathes, “I’m so close.”

“You’ve been such a good boy.”

He nods and cries out in frustration as you slide your hand up his abdomen. You scratch your nails over his chest and gently direct him.

“Wanna come? Go ahead, Binnie. I want to see you touch yourself.”

He makes a choked noise and leans up to brace himself over you.

“That’s not fair,” He takes a shuddery breath, “I helped you.”

“I am helping,” You pout, “What? Are you saying you can’t get off? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks down as you dip your fingers between your legs and play with your clit. He curses at the soft sounds that escape your lips. He steals another kiss and slowly begins stroking himself over you. You giggle and murmur quiet encouragement against his lips as you lazily pleasure yourself.

“Wanna come, Binnie? Wanna come on my pussy?”

“Y-es…”

He kisses you again, hard, as his movements become faster and uncoordinated. You cup his cheek and allow the fingers between your legs to graze absentmindedly over your sex. He slowly breaks away and gazes into your eyes as he works himself to release. His eyes fall shut and he groans your name.

“Come on, baby. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck,” He gasps.

He jerks himself through his climax, moaning desperately as he spills his cum over you. You watch his expression intently as milky streaks fall over your abdomen and crotch. You glance down and spread the sticky substance between your fingers, then look back at him. He watches you through fluttering lashes and pants into the shared air. Then, he smirks and leans down to share a wet kiss. When you part he kisses your cheek then collapses on top of you, nuzzling your neck.

“I love you.”

You scoff.

“I make you jerk off to me once and that’s all it takes for you to fall in love? You’re pathetic.”

He whines in protest.

“I loved you before that, bitch. And, I’ve jerked off to you many times-”

“Ugh, you freak…” You respond with no animosity.

He laughs breathlessly and heaves a tired sigh. “I mean it. And not just the masturbating part.”

You snort and listen to his labored breath slow then settle into a tranquil rhythm before breaking the silence.

“I know. I love you too. Even if you get turned on by socks.”

Changbin laughs and squishes his face against your cheek. You turn your head and press a loving kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” You mumble before granting him another kiss.

“Mhm… I will… later.”

You gasp as he goes to pull you closer and gently keep him at an arm’s length.

“Ah, I’m dirty.”

“Yeah, you are.”

You laugh then make a disgusted noise as he pulls your hips together and kisses your neck. You melt into his arms and let him cradle your head to his chest. You sigh and nose sleepily at his shoulder.

“You better clean me up.”

“M’yeah…”

“M’serious…”

“Mh-hm…”

You relax and doze off embracing each other.

You wake again hours later. No light peeks in from the window, the only thing illuminating your room is your desktop screen. The red numbers of the 24-hour clock beside your bed tell you that it is midnight. You fight your way out from where you are tightly tucked into bed. Changbin’s shirt covers your figure as you sit up then slip out of bed. The shirt falls just above the top of your knee socks, leaving a sliver of skin peeking out. You finally notice Changbin, seated in your gaming chair and just wearing your headphones and his boxers, focused on the game playing in front of him. He has cleaned up the desk and his jacket is folded neatly over the back of the chair. You watch in silence then tiptoe over as the match finishes.

“What are you doing?”

He jumps and throws his hand over his chest as he looks at you.

“y/n!”

“Why are you playing my game?”

“... No reason.”

You take the mouse from him before he can queue and open your profile. He smiles sheepishly when you gape at your stats.

“You brought me up five levels?”

“Did I?”

“I didn’t know you could play.”

“What, you really think Felix leveled up all by himself?”

You blink as you process his words then grin and fall into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek.

“Thank youuu.”

“Don’t thank me, just get better so you don’t have to play so much.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault! All my teammates suck.”

“Mhm, that’s what they all say.”

You roll your eyes and rest your head on his chest.

“Still, I appreciate it.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna show me how much you appreciate it?”

You smirk.

“Yeah. What do you want me to do?”

His thumb glides down your clothed leg then back up again.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

“I don’t?”

“I’ll just let you have this seat and then I’ll take care of the rest.”

You stand and watch him rise then turn to fall to his knees as you fall back in the chair. He smirks and pushes his shirt up out of the way, then draws your legs over his shoulders.

[hazelfoureyes]

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[krockat]

it is I, krockat, and i'm crashing into YOU!!

and i am posting my long ass description into a pinned post instead.

also how do you edit in a readmore on mobile. help

Stats:

late mid20s, queer, fucker, experienced tumblr user

Messages Of The Day and Age:

fuckkkkk i fucking love lil weirdo artist queers

and when we get out into a group in the local and support eachother there's like nothing better

gosh fucking I GET now why people say "x should be in the club" cause I WAS and it was fucking THE BEST SHIT EVER

more below the readmore, such as my FAQ and uhh pronoun polls. yup

(there's no dni btw, don't you worry your sweet little head, Mwah <3)

FAQ:

1. tumblruser having badges allegations:

yea its true. i bought them before shit got shitted. so i will also say just say

#westaysilly:3 #tdov #tdor #blm #swisrealw #cripplepunk #🍉 #fromtherivertothesea #crapitalism #enshittification #workersunite

2. why don't you post art anymore?

it's true I barely didn't for years, but recently have been dabbling in posting some!

i also made a community which no one joined because no one could find it, which before I realized I could not rb shit out from it - I posted a bunch of art in.

but hey if you wanna join my community hmu!

it's called the enjoyment enjoyers, we could always use more enjoyers!!

also posting art is scary and i'm working on being more brave :D

3. why don't you reblog more nsft stuff on here?

i ask myself that nearly every day.

like yea, cause nearly every day I have AtLeast a min of scroll time on tumblr and see something hella cool thats nsft.

not that i Don't rb nsft stuff, just not the ones that would truly bare my soul.

who knows, maybe one day I will also be brave enough to post my own nsft stuff! wouldn't that be wicked. I'm hella hot btw.

edit: i changed my pfp to me so the truth is out there. am gonna post more of me so who knows how bold I will build to be!

Good Good Pronouns:

how to pronounce my pronouns, same order:

dae/dem

hen (like chickens, like hen in hen coop [- but i am not of gender chicken. nej, i am of swedish queer gender]

see/sehm (sounds like seize him or see xem which are both great)

say/sir (it's very funny and gender)

Content of Blog:

loads of stuff. long gone are the days of the aesthetic and fandom dichotomy!

but with that said, i do rb fan shit, been on a tf2 buzz lately, but also i will rb even things from fandoms I've not been in at all. I support the arts!!

also art, horror, queer shit, things about all my disabilties (aswell as others #solidarityfucker), memes, politics, and oh yes,

yup this blog often contains nsft things! i find sexuality and intimacy quite fun and confusing. i am still fresh on this. let's have fun!

esp like to rb queer and kinky stuff that just gets to be silly and shameless.

ehh, im working on the shame part for my own, so not the most prominent poster on that. and honestly? in general.

rebogging is however most often Loads

Other things about Moi

so am queer and here for however long this earth will have me

polying most things, creativity, love, and disability. wahooooo

aaand, i am plural! we have been slow burn naturally fusing since this last summer, but we still be we-ing some days. this blog is Mostly just from my perspective, but our my is becoming all our my.

if ya get it, ya get it.

Oh and i am a musician. i make music. I am working on an album! it's fun! I will post it some time in the future!

I've made great progress on it this year, but somethings are slowing further progress, like both my computers dying (aka also my old backup computer.)

But I am still trucking on!! I love music it's my passion and i am gonna finish this album so I can make both my child self and old self and CURRENT (and future) self so super happies!!!

My oldest friend; Tags:

tags are my friends and my sacred truth and liekeepers. i like to taste the words in them. but sometimes that chronic exhaustion hits and then the fast rbs are aboundiful

Muse Applications:

the applications for being mutual muses (this does NOT include mutuals. new mutuals are ALWAYS accepted): have been opened again.

You can send your application through these official channels:

tumblr asks

messages

pigeon or owl bird (owl is a huge extra fee cause the power needs more time to travel far distances)

You will have to prepare two monologues, one of your own choosing, and one that we give to you.

If you move on in the process, there is a live improvisation workshop, where you on the spot show all your talents and skills and shower me with praises.

Last date to apply is whenever I feel like it.

Re: Description errors:

i can't figure out how or why, but my tumblr description is chronically bugging.

it takes no amount of HTML. I even tried commissioning a person once because I thought I just couldn't figure it out. but nah.. it's just plain brokies

Several tumblr functions are chronically bugging for me,

like my following limit (tho i have gotten quite trained at gently penetrating its g-prostate-spot),

and my desktop version (it was completely uneditable and unviewable for me for years)

so, i am so sorry fellow disableds who have had to struggle reading my description. but you know what I said??

NO MORE!!

so pinned post it is.

😔🤟

🌱✔️🌱

[interrogatormentors]

do you think you could possibly give a translation of the binary bits somewhere? at the end of the post, or in the tags, or whatever? it's so hard to copy paste when you're on mobile because you only have the option of copying the entire post, so i don't know what they say and would really like to :(

Mod Snarky here! As the Helmsman fucker and thus writing his replies I wasn't doing it at first because it adds a bit of mystery and whatnot and it was intended as more of an easter egg because I honestly did not foresee how many people would send asks pertaining to psii and heaven forbid, addressing him directly. A pretty silly sentiment, considering how intertwined Eridan's storyline is with him in They Didn't Warn Us (and subsequent installments of the fic) and thus this blog by extension! It also made the notes pretty thicc. But honestly, with how many things are needing his input it's much more logical to add it in now and continue to do so. The thing that was holding me back going back in (because this has been on my mind lately) and putting it translated somewhere is honestly something that simultaneously reinforced me needing to do that--a massive power outage that hit our area for almost a week that necessitated me using mobile exclusively p much and so I was hit with your exact same problem.

Now that my power's back and I'm back at my own computer and not sheltering in mod maroonian's home like some sort of worm, y'all can expect to see them added into the notes. Some things, even though it aids in the suspension of belief of the askblog itself, aren't sustainable long-term. You gotta throw a few formatting spaghetti noodles at the oven door before one of 'em sticks!

EDIT: All the Helmsman responses should be in the notes now. If I missed any I shall fall upon my blade fix 'em up if you bring them to my attention!

[virtualpeople]

Get to know you: Sims Style

tagged by @goatskickin, thank you this was strangely relaxing :D

What's your favourite sims death? It's got to be the flight simulator in TS1. You ever been so sleepy you just drift right off into space? What about physically this time?

Alpha CC or Maxis Match? i guess semi-real? I've lost track of where the realism levels are at tbh. I love me some texture and shiny eyes is all I can specifically say, generally I just download whatever takes my fancy and hope for the best lmao

(now I'm just gonna derail this slightly to do my best grouchy old fucker impression and protest bitterly at the way the word alpha has come to be used to describe realistic CC, like arggghghghghg anything can have an alpha should you wish, why is this a thing >:( , ok grouch over)

Do you cheat your sims weight? Implying I ever play this game in a normal manner enough to have sims actually change weight from what they were originally created with in the first place

Do you move objects? Imagine playing sims 2 and not being able to move objects, truly a hellscape

Favourite mod? It's not exciting, but it's the SimBlender. Couldn't live (mode) without you, lil plant* fella.

*Other models are available

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack? Here's a vague answer for you all: The first sims game I got was the TS1 complete collection, so technically it was all the sims 1 EPs. And then when I got TS2 I got about 8 EPs/SPs in one go off ebay, can't exactly remember which ones other than it didn't include Apartment Life or Seasons, so what came first was really a good 50% of the whole game

Slightly off topic but the only sims I've ever bought new was the IKEA stuff pack when it was on clearance. Enjoy your £3 for this entire series, EA ;)

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing? LIVing, it's the mode where all the little computer people live :)

Who’s your favourite sim that you’ve made? Don't make me choose it could be so many of them ;-; Ok, maybe this guy. Or maybe this guy. Or maybe…

Have you made a simself? i tried a long long time ago but with very little resemblance. I have a very strange face that's hard to reproduce in <1000 polygons apparently.

Which is your favourite EA hair color? I'm quite fond of that slightly desaturated basegame brown shade, it's nice. Shame it's not really common in any of the more popular hair colour actions

Favourite EA hair? haircaesar, that short one that came with seasons. It's so… basic. So versatile. My beloved.

Favourite life stage? Adult. Elders second. I barely play any of the others tbh

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? I'd say technically for building, although it's more building characters and the world they live in. Gameplay does come into it, but more for letting sims play out storylines and interact with their world like in a soap opera way than the usual motives way of playing, if that makes sense - I'm constantly dishing out maxmotives because I had an idea of what I wanted to happen next but the sims would've otherwise been too grumpy lol

Are you a CC creator? As long as the title of CC creator doesn't expire after a couple of years of doing absolutely nothing (but definitely not retiring either) then yes

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad? I have been here for so many years and yet I've never said much beyond a couple of sentences to anyone, let alone having an entire squad lmao. Not deliberately, I've just got a habit of sitting here and collecting dust vibing

Do you have any sims merch? no, I don't think I've even seen any sims merch irl actually

Do you have a YouTube for sims? no.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing? Many eons ago, back in the distant mists of time, I used to be able to churn out sims and buildings at a rapid rate all day long. Now I… can't. Am I getting more picky? Am I paying more attention to detail? Am I just getting old? Who knows

Who’s your favourite CC creator? Over all these years?? It wouldn't be fair to pick just one even if I could, there's so many people propping up my game and making it look nice :O

How long have you had Simblr? 4293 days apparently, that's a lot of days.

How do you edit your pictures? do I look like I know what editing is? These days I don't even crop my pictures, I just dump screenshots into a presized photoshop document and shunt them around a bit until the composition looks ok. At a push I'll boost the contrast/saturation a tiny bit, particularly if I've left low blue light mode on again and the colours look a bit odd

What expansion/gamepack is your favorite? TS1 - you know I think it might be superstar. I love how silly studio town is with all those fun things like the fashion runway and the film sets. The celebrity system is amusing too, and is a convenient way of making sims of famous people a bit less weird to have around as opposed to just having them as playables (imo anyway). Shoutout to makin' magic too though, still my favourite implementation of magic in the entire sims series

TS2 - Apartment life. The ability to build functional flats and having magic back (if in a slightly disappointing way compared to TS1)? Height-shiftable things? Nice.

I tag: YOU. (totally not a copout I mean it i love reading these things)

[windybit]

My comments aren’t going to be hidden in the tags this time because I’m very passionate about this specifically.

Another issue is that if you want a job with decent pay, they expect you to have a degree (OR 8-10 years of experience). And even if you do have one, you still might get paid like shit because it’s the BARE MINIMUM. Going to college for four years and earning a Bachelor’s degree is not the achievement it was back in the day. And it’s even LESS affordable now than it was 30+ years ago. So companies are expecting all these 20 somethings who have nothing to their names to spend tens, sometimes HUNDREDS of thousands of dollars to get an 8.5x11 signed by some old fuckers that says congrats you learned some shit specifically pertaining to a career path. And even that’s not enough. You have to have 2-5 years of experience SPECIFICALLY pertaining to the job you’re applying for too. Where do you get it? Who the hell knows. I sure don’t. And how are you supposed to get it if nobody will hire you because you don’t have it?

Also have you guys TRIED writing a cover letter? After growing up being told not to brag about yourself, it’s really hard to write a whole letter bragging about yourself in a professional manner.

Third of all, and this is a big pet peeve of mine, so many people say “You need to call them and bother them. Ask if they got your resume and when you can expect an answer.” News flash: you can’t. Nobody posts phone numbers for their HR departments, and I can guarantee they don’t want to hear from you either. You could maybe send them an email, but it’s SO easy to just ignore an email and claim you never received it. Or they actually won’t see it because it’ll get buried under all the other emails they’re getting from the hundreds of other applicants who are also trying to get a job.

For example, my degree is in engineering. Computers to be exact. You would think I’d have an easy time finding a job because everyone needs computer bitches. And you would be wrong. I have been applying for jobs for almost ten months now. I graduated in May. I have had THREE interviews, countless rejections, and even MORE who have just. Not replied at all. The lack of progress has been infuriating. I’m living with my parents, I’m driving a car that they own because I can’t afford to buy one (not even used), and I have no dental or vision insurance because the cutoff age for those is different than for medical. I have loan payments that start in a month. And it’s not that I don’t want to work. I want to work so bad. I want to make money and be able to pay my bills and be financially independent and move out. I had a job, but it was seasonal because I thought for sure I’d have found a full time job by the time October rolled around. Because 8 months should have been more than enough time to find a job. And tbh I love my seasonal job and would probably do it forever if not for the fact that insurance is super expensive and it doesn’t pay the best.

So yeah. Please please please don’t buy into the “nobody wants to work” biz. Yes there are some lazy fuckers out there who don’t want to work. But there are way more of us who are trying and trying to get a job and are just being rejected and ghosted constantly by these companies who won’t even give so much as a reason why. And please, if you know someone who is or has been struggling to find work, don’t tell them what they should or shouldn’t be doing or what they’re doing wrong unless they ask for your advice. Nothing has been more frustrating than the boatloads of unsolicited advice people (mostly over the age of 50) have been throwing out left and right. Just support your friends and sympathize with them as they wade through hundreds of job postings that they’ll never hear back from. And maybe send them one or two if you happen to find one that fits what they’re looking for :)

[hotsoon-milk]

Can't have shit in this house

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Hello, this is what happens when two people who can't shut the fuck up scream at each other about fictional boyfriends. if you're one of my random followers and you actually wanna read this, please enjoy the memery. as for Star, hello <333

Star: I’m reading this on AO3 – mostly for comfort, tumblr’s post view is weird on the computer – but I just have to say that I LOVE the cover you make for the fanfics !!! theyre so fucking cute and aesthetically pleasing ! The ring is just absolutely gorgeous 🥺 and genuinely suits Gar so much 🥺

Sunny: Omg thank you <3 I actually work really hard on the covers - maybe I should start putting them on AO3 because I know you can ?? but I usually forget to do it because I think you have to insert them before you copy/paste the text. And like okay - this sounds so weird, but I sometimes get NERVOUS about posting on AO3?? Like the format for posting on there is intimidating, and I’m like “ugh, I’m gonna forget a tag, I’m gonna accidentally mark something wrong, the copy/paste isn’t gonna work” and I fret SO HARD for the ten minutes when I am trying to make my AO3 post - as opposed to when I am posting on tumblr. On tumblr, I’m like “this is my house, fuckers, HERE’S YOUR PORN” 

Star: “You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in” cracks knuckles where is that piece of shit? “At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you” I really do hope his dead, I can’t remember the actual show but I think so (?)

Sunny: I am SO GLAD you finally share my beef with Doctor Caulder omg. I hate him so fucking much. (It will get even worse when you watch Season 4.) And for reference, he’s not dead in the show. Idk what happened to his character in Doom Patrol (which I have been wanting to watch so badly because of Titans, but I haven’t gotten over the autistic brain hump lmao) but when we leave his character in Titans, Rachel broke his back and left him partially paralyzed, but Cliff said that his back was broken ‘again’ so it’s heavily implied that his serum/advanced medical ways can solve that kind of paralyzed state (because inferring - it had happened to him before and he made himself able to walk again with the serum). So there are no consequences for his actions, no death. He gets the notoriety and advanced medical science that he wants by taking advantage of people who are very vulnerable and in need with no where else to turn 

Star: “You had no other options, after all” This makes me so angry, specially cause its just fucking reality, I think I could write an entire essay on how fucked the US healthcare system is And not to say here things are perfect but WE DO HAVE A UNIVERSAL FREE HEALTH CARE!!! IT'S NOT PERFECT BUT IT'S THERE !! PEOPLE DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR SHIT THEY NEED TO SURVIVE (i don't know much about Canada, which is where I think you’re from, based on context clues, but I'm pretty sure there is a free health care system there too, right?)

Sunny: I am so deeply resisting the urge to go on a long rant about Canadian health care lmao. I am Canadian and because of my chronic illness, I have a very unique perspective on our particular universal health care. Most people just say that our health care is BETTER because it’s free - but it’s really not. There are so many issues - apathetic, undertrained doctors, certain medications and procedures not being covered, people with chronic ‘non-emergent’ conditions being pushed back and minimized because our problems are multi-systematic and not easy to solve. Like so much that I CANNOT explain or encapsulate in one short section of this post. But this fic takes place in America, so the whole ‘medical debt’ thing is a very obvious plot point to use (and a very realistic one), and their health care is probably overall worse than Canada. 

Star: “That’s a really pretty name. It matches you” I love that Gar is actually a really good flirt, but he’s also his own worst enemy and will second guess himself at every opportunity

Sunny: Gar is that meme ‘You look pretty!’ ‘what did you say?’ ‘I said you look shitty, goodnight!’ - he will flirt with someone, and the second they show any kind of interest back, he gets nervous and immediately backs down from it 

Star: “because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm” okay but I can't help picturing Gar and I infodumping about different horror movies to Rachel and Jason cause they know so little about it (Jason’s reasoning is obvious → but i personally headcanon Rachel’s adoptive mom didn't really let her watch anything that seemed too scary or dark, incase it triggered something in her or her powers) 

Sunny: Gar is the infodumping KING. I can imagine him just rambling on and on, and he would get Jason to watch his favorite 00s horror movies by telling him there’s topless scenes lmao (yes, that’s my JayGar shipper coming out)

Star: “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?” THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT !!!

Sunny: this was such a last minute addition but I recently saw the new little mermaid movie and I was like I HAVE TO ADD THIS

Star: “the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down” WOOOOW TWO CHALLENGERS APPROACH !!! I hope. they're. dead : )

Sunny: tbh in my imagination, they’re not dead. But I wanted to do something other than the typical ‘my parents died and left me alone in the world’ backstory. Because something like ‘my parents abandoned me on purpose and left me alone in the world’ can be more painful and it can show the importance of a new found family 

Star: “cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones” … why would you make me think about the implications?

Sunny: I said this because this is what the show makes his transformation sound like, but in all honesty, I really don’t think that his transformation hurts him! I think that it’s something that feels natural for his body and it doesn’t hurt him 

Star: “this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything” GO STINK, FUCK IT UP ! GO STINK, FUCK IT UP !!

Sunny: I wanted it to be a realistic characterization so that when the show catches up with him and he brings Rachel home - which is very much against the rules, and he tries to attack the Chief because Rachel is scared and wants to stop the process of her ‘test’, it is very realistic. Also: FUCK DOCTOR CAULDER GAR SHOULD BITE HIM

Star: “Gar put a hand on your lower back” am I touched starved, or is this the single most intimate, heart warming casual touch ever ??? “he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead” second most heart warming casual touch ever

Sunny: I just kept IMAGINING how comforting Gar would be when you’re not feeling well like omg 

Star: “Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL” AAAAAAAAAAAAA YES HE WOULD, IMMEDIATELY !!!! “he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you”

Sunny: I am obsessed with the idea that he would work so hard to communicate on someone else’s level - he would want to understand the person he loves because he would love the feeling of being understood (knowing and being known is one of his love languages) 

Star: “He set it up as a game” Yeah yeah, yoU KNOW WHAT WAS ALSO A GAME SET UP BY A CREEPY OLD MAN ??? it's Saw, I’m talking about the Saw movies (i’ve never seen them tho, but I think it was an old man right?)

Sunny: Idk if you have seen any of it on my blog, but I am obsessed with the Saw movies. And I think that old man (John Kramer) is infinitely better than Caulder lmao 

Star: “fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead” I don't think I have the emotional maturity to play a game like this SKSKKS thing would either get ugly fast OR i’d just cry outta frustrating and give up on it forever (I'm also NOT GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES !! SADLY ;-; I KNOW)

Sunny: it’s a good thing that Cuphead is a co-op game and Gar would be really encouraging about it and he would teach you all the tricks to do well at it so you can beat the enemies together <3 

Star: “If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!” I’m willing to side with him on this one, especially if US history is one of the categories KSKSKS cause I'm gonna need that excuse for my turns “Trivia is a test of memory” HE’S GOT A POINT !!!

Sunny: hOW DID I KNOW YOU WERE GONNA SIDE WITH JASON HERE

Star: “Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?” feels like a trick question KSKSKS “ her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought” THAT one is on us, more context next time yep “I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” NO TIME TO UNPACK, NOPE SKSKSKS LETS KEEP THAT BOX CLOSED FOR NOW

Sunny: how do you know he wasn’t singing showtunes in the mirror??? Maybe Rachel’s regret was seeing a GIANT FUCKING NERD in the bathroom 

Star: “What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” I LIKE THAT !! Never heard it before either, but I LIKE IT !

Sunny: I don’t know where I originally heard this phrase ??? but when I first heard it, I LATCHED onto it, cause I am a freak weirdo (like I never wear pants because I don’t find them comfortable, if I have to go in public, I literally ONLY wear dresses/skirts and people think I am a weirdo for it) and like so many things about me are not ‘normal’ but I always wanna be like ‘this is MY version of normal’. Same for so many other people 

Star: “You didn’t bother with socks or slippers” I’d rather die KSKSKKS SORRY TO BE SUCH A SOCK SNOB, BUT I WOULD RATHER DIE

Sunny: okay but ME TOO??!! I ALWAYS wear slippers, idk, it was just something random in the original draft 

Star: “And he was quite a sight to behold… nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips” yeah 🥵🫣 “He was pounding away…” hELLO “...at the heavy punching bag” oH “slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants” dear lord “It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag” and it’d be a damn crime to keep it contained

Sunny: this entire section of the fic is what I like to call ‘the female gaze’. Look at Gar with my slutty slutty feminine eyes and slutting him up the way that a female character would be examined in a piece of work that a man wrote. And I had SO MUCH FUN writing it 

Star: “If you came to train, don’t let me bother you. Apparently that’s all I am to you lately” WOOOOOOW ALRIGHT JESUS ♥️ HERE ! JUST KEEP IT, NOW THAT YOU FINISHED RIPPING IT OUT (not uncalled for but GODDAMN)

Sunny: I really wanted Gar to come off as broken down and defeated because he is the type of person to be emotionally bruised and LONELY. He gets sad boy and upset if his friends don’t give him the right attention/enough attention 

Star: “he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor” which is SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFICULT TO DO WITH BOTH OF THEM ON !! I always have to use my teeth on the first one 🙃

Sunny: I LITERALLY DID NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT THIS?!?! CAN YOU TELL THAT I HAVE NEVER GONE ANYWHERE NEAR A GYM IN MY L I F E 

Star: “Utmost” I'm embarrassed to say that genuinely I thought for years that it was UPmost (https://www.tiktok.com/@favclipsnewgirl/video/7128101049117789445 … what is an “ut”? Nick is right)

Sunny: okay but this is me. I used to think it was ‘lick a gift horse in the mouth’ when the real one is: ‘look a gift horse in the mouth’ and I was like WHY ARE WE LICKING HORSES (and I am a native English speaker) 

Star: “You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you” WELL– ONE OF US CAN SAY THAT (I’ve thought about it extensively)

Sunny: the original version of this is one of the first Gar fics I ever wrote, and this is where the growling thing started for me lmao 

Star: “vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room” well lets hope Jason is the one on security room duty tonight and not Grayson 🫢

Sunny: THIS NEEDS TO BE ITS OWN FIC. like omg I can so perfectly imagine Jason being in the security room because Dick wants him to wade through a bunch of files (really tedious shit) and then Jason starts going through the cameras out of boredom, and he sees THAT happening in the training room and he starts watching and touching himself and then later he just says the most ‘little shit’ thing to Gar like ‘you know there’s cameras in there’ and AAAAH I need to write this soon 

Star: “He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’” this is another subject I could write an entire essay about… ooooohhhh ranking the titans from best to worst head (we must discuss this in length, I beg you please)

Sunny: I need to do an in-depth post about what I think their kinks are, describing their dicks for the guys, and ranking all of them on sexual performance and whether they enjoy giving or receiving more (which might fall under kinks? idk) 

Star: “You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.” OKAY I HAVE THE FUCKING YN NAME CHANGER EXTENSION ON MY LAPTOP AND YOU DONT USE YN THAT OFTEN, I FORGOT IT WAS ON AND THIS HAD MY REAL LEGAL NAME ON IT !! I NEED YOU TO THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS NOW 

Sunny: THIS IS WHY THE INTERACTIVE FICS EXTENSION PAYS OFF. the girlies who say ‘using y/n is cringe’ THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’RE FUCKIN MISSING

Star: “Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you?” on all levels except physical, I am bonking their heads together “These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room” IM GONNA KILL THEM PLEASE !!!!

Sunny: this genuinely made me laugh snort omg. They NEED their fucking heads bonked together 

Star: “ate your pussy like it was his fucking job” it is

Sunny: TRUE

Star: “‘We don’t get days off, Gar’ Dick pressed ‘” and you need to stop making yourself my enemy

Sunny: one of these days I am going to write enemies to lovers with Dick where the reader calls him out on all his BS and then edges him until he cries and we will finally have our revenge 

Star: “Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you?” he remains the worst, friendship with Grayson over, again… where’s Hank when you need him?

Sunny: WHERE IS HANK I MISS HIMMM. Like the whole time I was writing this I was thinking about how Dawn and the reader would get along so well because they’re both soft and sweet and Dawn canonically knows ASL

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part Two: Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Summary:

After having an argument with Gar that nearly ends your friendship, you decide to finally get over your fear of using your own powers and finally embrace them. If you do things just right, you could finally get everything that you (and Gar) have ever wanted.

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut, (Slight) Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 18,000

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

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List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst (due to the reader and Gar having emotional distance from having an argument at the end of the other chapter), (very light) canon level violence, mentions of medical experimentation/medical torture, the reader character has medical trauma from years of illness, mentions of medical debt, manipulation and emotional abuse (from Doctor Caulder toward Gar and the reader), mentions of burns/burn scarring, mention of the reader being abandoned by her parents, mentions of vomit (no graphic descriptions), the reader character has a seizure, (likely) improper first aid performed for a seizure, the reader has chronic illness/chronic pain, use of prescription medication, the reader is more feminine (wears lacy underwear), the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. 

This chapter contains smut - both dream fantasies and played out sexual acts. The reader character is mute but all consent is enthusiastic and clear, biting/marking kink, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (having sex in the communal area of a house - also, coincidentally, the sex fic I have read where characters have sex in a space that just happens to have a camera in it), scent kink, oral - reader receiving, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), (slight) overstimulation (reader receiving), hair pulling kink (Gar receiving), it’s implied that the reader and Gar are virgins but it’s not lingered on and it’s not a plot point of the fic, unprotected sex, creampie, penis in vagina sex, rough sex, (idk how to phrase it?) marriage kink/commitment kink, passionate sex/love making, Gar calls the reader ‘wife’ (in a fantasy sequence), some mentions of blood (the reader scratches Gar’s back and draws blood by accident), I believe that’s it. 

A/N: This turned out way longer than I intended. But I love it and I really hope that you guys do too!!

...

After the argument, you didn’t see Gar for the rest of the day. 

When Dick came in to check on your progress with training, he immediately questioned why Gar was missing. You made up a lame excuse about how he had been feeling sick (which had to be translated to Dick by Jason) and Dick complained that all of you had to learn to ‘work through’ things like illness, but at least he didn’t question why Gar had locked himself in his room for the rest of the night and didn’t come to dinner. 

After you had washed the dishes and sulked through the rest of your nightly routine, you considered knocking on Gar’s bedroom door before finally going to bed yourself - but you just couldn’t bring yourself to face him. 

You had truly hurt him, and you weren’t sure how you were going to recover from it. 

As you laid in bed that night, so strung up with guilt that you couldn’t sleep, you stared at the ceiling. Of course, all you could think about was Gar. 

You thought back to when you had first met him - going over those first days of your friendship in your mind. The undeniable way that the two of you were drawn so close together. In friendship or in that unutterable, constantly denied romance - the two of you were soulmates. 

And you had fucked it all up. 

You missed your best friend so badly. You wondered where it had all gone so wrong. 

… 

You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in. 

Before him, before the serum, your last chance at moving out of the palliative care ward would have been offering your body as a live cadaver up for experiential treatment. It was something that might have put a dent in your medical debts, but it also would have meant a lot of pain and torture as your body was used as a trial for vastly experimental medicine and treatments - none of which were guaranteed to prolong your life as the deadly brain tumors grew to consume your brain, seemingly trapping you in a loop of pain and torture for those last few years that you had. 

At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you. 

He used the money he had from his dense inherited wealth to pay off all of the medical debt you had acquired from your lifetime of illness, giving you only one very small catch in the face of this intense generosity. He wanted your consent to try out his serum on you, claiming that it would either do nothing to change your condition, or it would be the magical cure-all that you had been looking for. 

(He conveniently let out the fact that in your state of unwellness, with your weakened body, there was a large possibility that the serum could overwhelm your senses, stopping your heart - but that was a risk he was more than willing to take.) 

Honestly - while you didn’t believe him - you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him down. 

You had no other options, after all. 

After he injected you with the serum and you woke up with your sight fully restored, you were shocked. It had somehow shrunk down the tumor in your brain enough that it was no longer pressing on your optic nerve, and you could once again experience the world in full, glorious vision. 

It was something you were entirely excited by as you arrived at what would be your new home. Doctor Caulder had described it as a ‘vacuum of scientific advancement against the bureaucracy of the world’. Naturally, you had expected some kind of cold looking industrial building, another medical center that you would be trapped inside for years to come. 

You certainly hadn’t thought that it would be a sprawling, gorgeous Victorian mansion in the secluded, peaceful countryside. 

He brought you inside and set down your bag. You were too busy marveling at the details of the architecture, the stunning antique decorations, taking it all in after years of being deprived of sight to truly notice anyone else in the building at first. 

You didn’t notice anyone else there until Doctor Caulder spoke to him. 

“Ah, Garfield, I’m glad I caught you.” 

You turned at the sound of someone’s name being called. Caulder had warned you that you would be living with several other people - people who he had helped and was continuing to help with their ‘unique conditions’. 

When you looked over at him, the person that Doctor Caulder had called Garfield, the only truly unique thing you spotted about him was his bright green hair. That, and the fact that he was startlingly attractive. 

Garfield paused his footing halfway down the hallway as Doctor Caulder spoke to him. When he turned back around to give the man his attention, you noticed that he had a candy bar poking out of his mouth as he held it there between his teeth, and a pair of large headphones over his ears with some kind of handheld gaming system in his hands. He reached up and moved one half of the headphones off to the side when he realized his full attention was needed. Then he bit off the candy bar, moving to shove the rest of it, mostly still wrapped, into the pocket of his large green hoodie. 

“What’s up, Chief?” He asked, his mouth obviously stuck together by the candy and some chocolate slightly smeared on the side of his mouth. 

“Garfield, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Caulder - apparently the Chief, quickly scolded him. 

You guessed that he found it rude because he was more uptight and proper, more old fashioned. But it was something that you easily found adorable and charming. 

Garfield hung his head in shame and made a clear effort to swallow, running his tongue over his teeth to somewhat clean his mouth before he spoke again. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “Did you need something?” 

It was then that he really eyed you up and down, as though he had just noticed you standing there. 

You felt entirely out of place, but tried your best not to look nervous, and simply smiled as his eyes landed on your face. You noticed a small tinge of pink come over his cheeks when he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes made a quick jolt back to the carpet, obviously nervous and not wanting to linger on you. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard Cliff mention my newest patient.” Doctor Caulder told him, gently motioning toward you. “Y/N will be staying with us for the foreseeable future while I explore her condition and any affects the serum has had on her.” 

Garfield nodded at this. The wild tendrils of his green hair bobbed in a very adorable way with the motion, and you suppressed a giggle because of it. 

“I’ll need you to show her around and help her get settled in for now, because I need to go up to my office and work on some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’d like not to be disturbed for the next few hours, is that clear?” Doctor Caulder ordered, his voice calm, but oddly stern. 

Garfield’s face twisted slightly into a frown, as though he was afraid of the possible consequences if he did disturb the man. But nonetheless, he nodded once again. 

“Understood.” He said simply. 

Doctor Caulder gave him a curt nod and then walked up the stairs, leaving you in the hands of your seemingly meek, very handsome tour guide. 

He stepped toward you, and then realized the game console was still beeping in his hands. So he pushed a few buttons, shutting it off, and then he shoved it into his pocket as well before he slid his large headphones to sit around his neck. 

“Hi, I’m Garfield. You probably heard that. But you can just call me Gar. I prefer it.” He rushed these words out in a puff of air, seemingly still very nervous to be in your presence. 

You nodded at this. Before you could communicate in any way that you wouldn’t really be ‘calling’ him anything because of your mutism, he let out a huff - something akin to a nervous laugh and steamed rolled right into more conversation. He didn’t really seem to mind your silence. 

“Y/N, right?” He posed, easily remembering your name from when Doctor Caulder had introduced you. 

You nodded once again, giving him a small smile. 

“That’s a really pretty name. It matches you. I mean- I-” He stumbled over his words, clearly nervous that he had unintentionally said something flirtatious. “I’m supposed to introduce you to everyone, right? Come on.” 

He then took you on a tour of the sprawling house, his chatter filling the air in a most perfect way. The more he talked, the more he seemed to gain confidence around you. He became filled with energy, fueled by the things he was saying. Especially when he spoke about the house and the daily life that he lived there, pointing out the different rooms and where you could make yourself comfortable. His words filled the space so well that he didn’t seem to notice the fact that you couldn’t talk. 

As he took you on the tour, you came across the different eclectic members of the household and Gar introduced you to them. And you very quickly came to realize what Doctor Caulder had meant by ‘unique conditions’. 

If you didn’t have your vision freshly restored in order to see it, you likely wouldn’t have believed it. But they were very real. 

Gar introduced you to Cliff - someone who looked more like a machine than a man, squeaky joints and all. But it quickly became apparent to you that he had a shining personality underneath all that metal, and his humanity wasn’t easily defined by something like rust and bolts. He was working on a half-disassembled car in the large garage, and Gar explained to you how the mostly mechanical man was an ex-racer who had gotten into a bad accident and been put back together by The Chief. 

He then introduced you to Larry - who was in the kitchen, baking some kind of very tall, very impressive multi-layered cake (apparently in celebration of your arrival). He made a comment about you ‘being rather quiet’ and you just shrugged. They would probably be amused later when they found out why. 

Larry didn’t want to comment much or explain the reason that his entire body was covered in bandages, and you understood why. In your mind, you assumed that he had been badly burned and the bandages covered some kind of scarring. The visual reminded you of people who had passed through the palliative care ward with severe burns over their bodies and didn’t survive long because of it. But he seemed to move without pain and he was obviously thriving, so whatever Doctor Caulder had done for him - it had worked. 

Gar tried to introduce you to the last member of the household - Rita - but when he knocked on her bedroom door, he was met with silence. He simply told you that she likely wasn’t feeling well. And that you understood deeply as well. 

The house tour extended down into the basement, because Gar was very excited to show you his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to disrupt his rolling speech or dampen down his swell of excitable energy. 

He was showing you some of his movie posters - something for a movie called Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It was a movie you had never heard of before, and you only found yourself truly paying attention in order to learn about it now because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm. 

“-it’s considered one of the first examples of parody ever in cinema, an effort to take horror, something that truly terrified audiences at the time, and turn it comedic. Like shining a light on that monster under the bed so he’s no longer scary. It’s brilliant.” 

Gar rambled on, his breath almost entirely escaping him as his enthusiasm overpowered his lungs. 

You couldn’t help but to feel a swell of fondness as you looked at him. 

His passion was so intensely palpable, it gave you goosebumps. It was a very old film that you likely wouldn’t have taken an interest in. But the way he talked about it - like it was revolutionary, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It made you want to watch it ten times just to get to know him better, just to have a small taste of the passion that he felt so epically for it. 

You didn’t know it then, but feeling his overwhelming enthusiasm spreading in the air was the beginnings of your very intense crush on him. It was the moment that you started falling for him. 

“You know originally, Lou Costello scoffed at the idea of even making-” Gar suddenly cut himself off, a look of dawning crossing his features. “Woah, I’ve been talking for such a long time, haven’t I?” 

Technically, yes. 

But you would have been perfectly content to stand there and listen to him talk for hours more about this film or any of the others related to posters that he had on the wall. His enthusiasm and the way it was backed up by factual knowledge made him endlessly interesting to listen to. 

In response, you simply shrugged. 

Yes, he had been talking for a long time. But - you enjoyed listening. His tone and the abrupt way he had cut himself off made it sound like he had burdened you with his ramblings, and you weren’t sure why. 

“Sorry.” He giggled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I’m probably being so annoying. I haven’t even let you talk about yourself at all. What - what kind of movies do you like?” 

He seemed nervous suddenly, as though he had become self conscious in the conversation. 

You filled with nerves as well, coming to the realization that you would now have to communicate to him that you couldn’t talk. 

You motioned toward your throat, hoping he would be able to see the scar from the surgery that had stolen your ability to speak so long ago. Rather than understanding, Gar’s face knit with confusion. 

“What, did the sea witch steal your voice?” He asked. The action reminded him a lot of that cartoon mermaid, desperately tapping on her throat, trying to explain to others why she couldn’t speak. “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?” 

The words escaped him before he could stop it - and then he realized that it sounded entirely more flirtatious than he intended. 

He bit his lip nervously and you let out a giggle. You became entirely overwhelmed by your own nerves, and your undeniable attraction toward him. If you were feeling at all bold, you might have leaned over and kissed him in that moment. But something in the back of your mind told you that it was rude - that he hadn’t truly meant it, that it was strange to come onto him so soon after meeting him. 

When the awkwardness swelled inside of him, he rushed to speak again. 

“Sorry,” He blurted out. “That was probably insensitive. If you’re really mute, that’s like a disability, and you shouldn’t make jokes about people’s disabilities-” 

You vigorously shook your head, meaning to tell him that ‘no, I liked the joke’. 

But his eyes instantly grew wide, believing that you were shaking your head negatively, believing that he was truly being insensitive and rude. 

You raised your hands and began explaining it in sign language, and he sighed in defeat. 

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I don’t - I don’t understand.” 

Then, a look of dawning came over his face so strong it was almost as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head. He then rushed into the other room - there was some ripping of paper (what you didn’t know was him ripping pages he had used out of a notebook so that you wouldn’t see them). After a moment, he rushed back toward you, thrusting a notebook and a pen in your direction. 

You took it happily, and began writing. 

‘Yes, I am completely mute. Yes, it is technically a disability. And yes, I did think your joke about the sea witch was funny. But… I don’t think a kiss from a prince will fix me.’ 

You passed it to him and after he read it, he gave a small chuckle. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t so smooth on my part.” He said. “What happened? To your voice?” 

You explained it to him. You spent a long time passing the notebook back and forth, explaining things to him about yourself and your life. 

You told him how you had been ill for as long as you could remember, and it had only gotten worse as you progressed into your teen years. And eventually, the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down. They had left you orphaned in the most cruel way. 

Gar’s eyes danced with tears when he read this. You didn’t know it then, but he vowed to himself that he would always be by your side. He would be the one person who never left you, no matter what happened in life that might try to draw the two of you apart. 

‘Can I ask you something?’ You scrawled out, passing the notebook to Gar with careful curiosity on your mind. 

“Yeah, anything.” He replied. 

‘Why are you here? What is Doctor Caulder helping you with?’ 

You were tempted to add on something about how he ‘looked normal’ - but you didn’t want to accidentally insult him. 

“My condition… it’s uh…” Gar stuttered through his attempt at an explanation, and confusion flooded your features. “It’s probably just easier if I show you?” 

You nodded in acknowledgement that you understood, and Gar put the notebook aside and stood from the couch where the two of you had been seated, talking for hours. 

“Would you - uh - would you mind closing your eyes for a second?” He asked, once again draped in that nervous energy. 

You hesitated for a second, but then complied. You weren’t sure how him ‘showing’ you would go if you had your eyes closed. But you trusted him to harness in that condition - whatever strange ability the serum had given and not let it hurt you. You felt safe around him even though you had only known him for a short time. And you wanted to make him comfortable rather than arguing about it. 

You were curious when you heard some gentle rustling, and you cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones. You hoped that whatever he was doing, it didn’t cause him any pain. 

Your curiosity became too great and you opened your eyes when you heard a low rumbling. If you weren’t mistaken, it sounded like the purring of a very large cat. 

Shock instantly overtook you when you opened your eyes to see that standing in front of you in the middle of the carpet - rather than Gar - there was a very large tiger with bright green fur. When your sight had been restored, you never, ever thought that this would be one of the first things you would get to see. 

Your first instinct was to pull your feet up onto the couch, and the tiger - which you quickly had to reason was Gar, who had somehow shifted his body into a different form - hung his head in shame when he saw the fear overtake your body. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You shouldn’t be, right? He had been nothing but kind to you since the two of you had met. He wouldn’t use this odd power to endanger you. 

When you looked into those large animal eyes, you saw nothing but kindness. And you couldn’t resist the urge to step off the couch and lean out, petting a hand gently under his furry chin. 

It was then that you were struck with the realization. The dream you had of being married to a large green tiger - it had likely meant something. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on it. 

Instead, you scratched under his chin and he purred, and you giggled at the fact that such a large, possibly terrifying animal was so docile under your touch. 

(When Gar transformed back, you would deny that you snuck a glance at him changing back into his clothes. And you would definitely deny that you became obsessed with what you saw.) 

… 

Later that night, you met Rita when she came down to join everyone for dinner. She was a lovely, sweet woman. She was actually the only person (aside from Doctor Caulder) at the table who understood your ASL, though she didn’t seem eager to explain where she had learned it. You knew that everyone in the house had somewhat of a painful past, so you didn’t bother to ask. 

The cake Larry had made turned out beautiful. A towering masterpiece that everyone had to purposefully crane their necks around as they spoke to each other. You couldn’t help but marvel in wonder at it and the rest of the amazing spread he had made. Gar told you that it really wasn’t that out of the ordinary, seeing as cooking was Larry’s favorite hobby. 

You felt slightly bad for Cliff - seeing as he sat with an empty plate in front of him. But he seemed to show up to the meal mostly out of habit, family obligation, and a slight curiosity to get to know you. So you tried your best to answer everyone’s questions and be welcoming to the new friendships. 

You enjoyed the meal well. Everything was delicious, and compared to the food you once ate on the ward - it was heaven. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. 

Larry cut the cake and made sure that you got the first slice - which you selected from the towering variety of many different flavors. He cited that he didn’t know what your favorite flavor was, so he made a good variety as insurance. The taste of lemon was sweet on your tongue and you were enjoying yourself - when one of the lights began flickering. 

It was just a few flashes above your head, just for a few moments, but it was enough to send a sharp pain shooting through the middle of your forehead and instantaneously cause a wave of nausea through your stomach. You dropped your fork onto your plate with a clatter, and everyone craned their necks around the towering cake to look at you. Gar immediately got up from his chair to rush to your side, wondering what was wrong. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly. 

Your senses were overwhelmed by dizziness, a horrid feeling that your eyes were churning inside of your skull. Sharp waves of pain radiated out from the middle of your forehead and seemingly caused the world to turn wildly underneath your feet. 

You didn’t know that the harsh unwellness was visible all over your face - from your unpleasant expression to the light layer of sweat that had so quickly formed over your skin. 

You shook your head, attempting to confirm to him that you were not okay. But this only caused the pain to worsen, and you held back a harsh gag, trying your hardest to keep the amazing dinner inside. 

“You need to lay down.” Gar said quietly. 

You felt safe under his touch and you let him guide you as he pulled out your chair. He put one hand around your back and used the other to take your hand as he helped you up and guided you away. You let your eyes fall closed against the harsh light as his hand came to rest on your waist, a calming comfort against the harsh pain throbbing through you. You let yourself lean on him for support as he did as promised - took you to lay down. 

You were partway up the stairs when a voice disrupted you. 

“Garfield.” 

Doctor Caulder called after him harshly, causing Gar to pause his movements. You leaned on the bannister and kept your eyes closed. You had to concentrate hard on willing yourself not to vomit while Gar was distracted with the conversation. 

“This is an important opportunity to study her condition, you should be taking her to-” Caulder began to argue against Gar’s actions, but he was cut off. 

“She needs to lay down.” Gar argued quietly. “She’s had a long day. She needs rest. You can do your studies tomorrow.” 

You didn’t know it, but this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything. Doctor Caulder stood there in shock at Gar’s sudden shift in attitude while Gar put a hand on your lower back once again and helped you the rest of the way up the stairs. 

He helped you into bed and pulled the covers over you. And then he got a hot cloth to put on your forehead, and got a bucket to put beside the bed in case you did throw up. It was then that you knew you would never feel properly cared for again unless it came from him. 

When he thought that you weren’t paying attention, half sleepy and half drowned in the pain, he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead, right above the cloth. 

…

Later that night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL. He was especially careful that his teeth didn’t pierce any of the pages. 

He used the rest of the night to study, and he greeted you the next morning with a tray of gentle breakfast food (porridge, hopefully something that wouldn’t aggravate your upset stomach) and Advil. Despite the pain throbbing through your head, you broke into a beaming smile when he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you. 

It was then that you realized just how much you were going to have to suppress your feelings for him. 

… 

Later in the day, Doctor Caulder was carrying out his tests as promised. 

He had you in a different part of the basement - in an area that essentially looked like an operating room. Just seeing the tables and all the cold medical equipment triggered a lot of your fight or flight instincts, but you tried your hardest to remain calm. Especially because Gar was by your side, even though he likely could have been playing video games or doing something else a lot more fun. He told you that he would stay by you the entire time to make sure that you were comfortable. 

You tried to relax and trust the process. 

Doctor Caulder had adjusted the table, propping up the top of it so that it was much more like a chair. And he had wheeled in a large machine that consisted of a series of lightbulbs - something that turned out to be a strobe light, set to make specific patterns. He had taped several electrical probes to your head, ones connected to an EEG machine. Although he knew that this procedure was likely to trigger a seizure, he said that it was important for it to occur because your neurological problems were closely tied to your powers, and the areas of the brain that the serum had affected. He said that it was something important to measure - even if a seizure happened. 

“Just face forward, and keep looking into the light.” Doctor Caulder explained. “It will go through a series of flashing patterns. I need you to try your hardest to keep your eyes open, and stay focused. It’s important that we record your brain activity while this is happening without disruption.” 

You nodded in affirmation. You weren’t looking forward to the pain that it would cause considering that your head was still thumping with a migraine from the night before, but if he considered it necessary, you would do it. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gar asked. “How do you know this isn’t just gonna cause more harm?” 

He was standing beside the table, holding your hand, and you were entirely grateful for his presence there. 

He had seen the way you had reacted to a relatively dim chandelier bulb flickering at dinner the night before. He thought that this would be disastrous. 

“Garfield, if you continue to question me, then I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Doctor Caulder told him curtly. “You can’t keep disrupting the process like this. We need to move forward.” 

Doctor Caulder glared at Gar, giving him a moment to make his choice. To see if he was going to speak up and argue or remain quiet. Gar looked to you, wanting to see if you were truly okay with all of this. Nerves boiled in your stomach, but you feigned a smile, and squeezed his hand tighter, assuring him that you needed him there - right by your side. 

Gar then nodded at Doctor Caulder, who stood behind the machine with the lights and turned it on. Gar flinched hard against the lights as they began to flicker. He turned his head away and closed his eyes, but he kept a tight hold on your hand. 

Though it went against every screaming, pained nerve in your body, especially the ones pulsing through your head - you fought to keep your eyes open. Your carefully tuned hearing picked up on the scribbling needles of the EEG machine, Gar’s breathing. You could even hear the electricity sizzling in the bulbs as they went through three long flashes and then turned off. Three long flashes, and then off. 

You survived the first pattern well before it switched to two quick flashes and then a period of seemingly prolonged darkness - something that wasn’t any more than three whole seconds in reality. 

The moment that it switched to the intense, rapid strobing - you felt it. The tingling in your hands, the dizzying haze that said you were only moments away from having a seizure. 

You had no time to warn either of them, especially considering that this was the first seizure you had post-serum, and it had unexpected size effects. 

As your muscles became tight and your body began to violently seize, the house itself began to quake around you. It was as though the building were at the epicenter of a violent earthquake. Later, Doctor Caulder would come to the conclusion that your seizures now caused ‘rapid bursts of psychic energy’ to be released from you, completely uncontrolled by you. He realized that you would be needed to put on a high dose seizure medication to prevent any further incidents. 

In those moments, though, it was chaos. 

Between the shaking of the house underneath you and the unpredictable seizing of your muscles, you quickly rolled off the table. Gar easily caught you in a moment’s notice. Across the room, Doctor Caulder made a similar movement - reaching urgently to catch the EEG machine before it fell off of its own table. 

When the quaking stopped, and you were left quivering in Gar’s arms, he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of disappointment as he saw the obvious play out before his eyes - Doctor Caulder was far more eager to save his data, to preserve the research that you had given him than to actually take care of you - his patient who was clearly in need. 

“What was that?” Gar breathed out, looking from your unconscious face to the surrounding room. He didn’t think that it was a large coincidence that an earthquake had struck at the exact same time as your seizure and had lasted exactly as long. 

“I believe that her powers were responsible for that.” Doctor Caulder theorized. “We’ll likely have to do more research to fully comprehend it-” 

He abruptly cut off his own words when the scribbling needles of the EEG machine stopped. 

Gar began peeling the probes off your forehead and Doctor Caulder only looked up toward you when the EEG flatlined as it was disconnected. 

“Garfield, what do you think you’re doing?” Caulder barked at him. 

“We’re done right now.” Gar said, his voice choked off by his anger. “Clearly, this isn’t helping. She needs rest.” 

Gar resisted the urge to say more. He resisted the urge to berate Doctor Caulder for harming you. He resisted the urge to swear. He resisted the urge to threaten to run away with you - taking away Doctor Caulder’s precious source of research so that the two of you would never be seen again. 

He had no clue that his anger was so intense that it flared up in his eyes, threatened to invoke his transformation against his will. 

He felt calmer when he looked down at you, and petted a hand across your forehead. Although you were forced into unconsciousness because of the seizure, you looked peaceful and calm with your face so still, your eyes closed and your muscles finally relaxed. He hoped that you would feel better soon. 

That was the day Doctor Caulder decided to start keeping a tranq gun near the operating table. 

… 

Things were quiet for a few days after that. 

Doctor Caulder said that he needed time to go over the results of the EEG, and he didn’t want to induce anymore seizures in you for fear that it might bring down the house. So he did let you rest. 

But in the interim, he didn’t check up on you or attend to any of your medical needs. He locked himself in his office to contemplate the science of it all while Gar stuck by your side. He held the bucket and rubbed your back while you puked, he held a hot cloth to your forehead when you needed it. He held a spoon up to your lips to feed you because your hands were too weak after being rocked by such a harsh seizure. 

After a few days, you were almost thankful to Doctor Caulder for it. You and Gar were growing incredibly close so quickly because he refused to leave your side, and you had never felt so lucky to have someone like him in your life. 

You hesitated when Doctor Caulder called you into his office upstairs. 

He made a poor apology for the incident with the lights. He said that he was sorry for causing you pain, but it was ‘necessary’ to explore your condition, to map your brain and find out how the serum had affected you. 

He said that the next step would be further exploring your strange powers. The powers you had accidentally discovered while transitioning out of the hospital. When one of the nurses had been attending to you, you had looked into her eyes, and you couldn’t even fully identify the feeling at the time. But suddenly, you knew this shocking, painful information. One of the other patients on the ward who you had come to know as a friend wasn’t going to live much longer. And when you had asked the nurse about it, she had accused you of snooping, reading through files - because the information was supposed to be confidential. 

But Doctor Caulder - who had witnessed the conversation - easily saw it for what it truly was. An unnatural power given to you by his serum. 

He then called Gar into his office as well - someone you obviously trusted and could work well with. 

He set it up as a game. 

He had written down several things on flashcards. You and Gar would sit across from each other, and Gar would read one of the flashcards, fully capturing the idea in his mind. And then you would use your powers to try and push into his mind - figuring out what was on the card without him ever speaking a single word or giving any hints. 

As you sat across from him, preparing to begin, you were incredibly hesitant. 

‘Are you sure about this?’ 

You wrote this as a message to Gar on one of the blank index cards. They were intended for you to write the answers that you retrieved from his mind during the ‘game’. You intentionally held back with the message, not fully describing your worries. You wanted to ask if he was okay with you breaching the privacy of his mind, but you were worried about Doctor Caulder seeing it, because you knew the man didn’t like to be questioned. 

You flipped it around to show Gar, and he simply nodded after he read it. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Gar assured you with a smile. “It’s just a game, right?” He grinned. “It’ll be fun.” 

You didn’t quite think so. But you tried to take on his positive attitude. 

“Let’s begin.” Caulder said. He was standing behind Gar in a very imposing manner, reading the cards as well to ensure that he didn’t flub the answers just to please the Doctor. 

Gar picked up the first card and read it, and he concentrated on it for a moment, making sure that the idea was focused in his mind. He gave a small nod, and then looked up toward you, knowing that he had to make steady eye contact with you in order for you to use your powers. 

Pushing past your discomfort, you did as you had been instructed. You stared deep into those big beautiful brown eyes, and you purposefully breached the surface into his mind. The first thing you were met with was a rich visual of several golden retriever puppies frolicking in a field of grass, happily yipping and prancing around, almost tripping over their clumsy new feet. 

You soon withdrew - even though it was a happy scene that gave you joy, you knew that you had the answer. You had an unconscious grin on your face, and that easily made Gar giggle as you flipped over the message you had made to him and wrote down your answer on the other side. 

‘Puppies’

You lifted up the card and showed it to Doctor Caulder, who took a glance down at the card in Gar’s hand (which said ‘DOG’). He nodded at you, his stern face not flexing for a moment to show any sign of positivity. He picked up a clipboard from a small table on the chair beside Gar and began furiously scribbling. 

“Continue.” He said, not looking up from his fast paced notes. 

Gar looked down at the next card, took the same moment of concentration, and then looked back at you with a small grin on his face. 

This time, rather than feeling like you were committing some kind of crime or doing him a grand disservice, you looked into his eyes and pushed into his mind with a gleeful joy - as though the two of you were sharing a delightful secret. 

The next rich visual you saw featured Gar himself. He wore a pair of tight jeans and a leather jacket with some red tee shirt underneath, and he walked up to a red car - a very fancy, vintage looking car. He opened the door, got inside, and adjusted the mirror to look at himself before he stomped on the gas pedal and the car sped away with a screech. It was a very ‘cool guy’ moment, something that made you giggle because of the stereotypical absurdity of it. 

When you drifted back into the real world, you went to the next index card, and had more of a difficult time figuring out how to phrase your answer. 

You went with:

‘Driving a car?’ 

When you held it up to show Doctor Caulder, he checked Gar’s card, which simply said ‘CAR’. He frowned, and you thought that you had gotten the answer wrong. 

“You have to concentrate more, Garfield.” Caulder scolded him. 

Gar’s face dropped into a frown, and it made your chest twinge with sourness. You thought that a face as sweet as his should never have to frown. 

“You got it right.” He told you quietly, before flipping to the next one. 

You nodded. You hated the way that Caulder treated him. If you could scream at the man, you would. 

Gar waffled for a few moments, looking at the card with blank eyes before he then looked up at you. There was a slight glassiness swimming there that told you he was ready to cry, along with the hesitation of a quivering lip. You wanted to end the entire exercise and simply retreat to the basement to play video games with him, but you knew that Caulder likely wouldn’t let you get away with that. 

So you continued. 

You used your powers once again, purposefully entering Gar’s mind. 

You were surprised by the scene you were met with. 

It was a vision of you and Gar - it was almost like a beautiful painting, like a fantastic daydream. 

You were off in some grassy field, seemingly the same place the puppies had been. Lush greenery, boundless blue skies, warm sunshine that you could almost feel tingling against your skin. The two of you were holding hands - and the most peculiar thing that stuck out to you? 

Your attire. 

Gar was wearing a formal black suit with a green tie and a green vest to match his naturally wild green hair. You were wearing a long, lacy white dress that you couldn’t mistake for anything other than a wedding dress. There was a bundle of flowers looped around your head in a large crown, with a long, flowy lace veil going down your back, and a bundle of flowers in your free hand that wasn’t holding his. 

It was a wedding, a marriage. 

At the time, however foolish it was, you didn’t consider the scene to be any specific desire on Gar’s part. You simply thought that he was trying to communicate the idea - the concept to you. You thought that it was just part of the game. 

When you pulled yourself back to reality, you felt entirely confident in your answer as you wrote it down. 

‘A wedding’

When you flipped it over to show them, you were grinning proudly. 

Gar’s face immediately dropped - embarrassment clutched at his stomach and panic overtook him. Caulder sighed with annoyance as he looked at Gar’s card, which said ‘WATER’. 

Before any further discussion of it could be had, Gar dropped the cards and they scattered over the floor. He rushed out of the room, moving so swiftly that he was practically a blur. Doctor Caulder called after him, complaints wafting through the air. 

You didn’t care to listen to the man. You got up and chased him, almost tripping over your own feet to get to him. 

You caught him as he zipped up his jacket, clearly ready to escape out the basement door and go into town (something he told you he was not permitted to do, but often did anyway). You stepped right in front of his path. He sighed hard through his nose and tried to dodge you, and you stepped in front of him and kept blocking him. Eventually, he was forced to look up at you. 

It was then - when you saw the look of a truly kicked puppy spread across his features, naked embarrassment lingering in his eyes - that the truth clutched at your stomach. You got the sense that what you had seen was truly private. 

Part of you wanted to prod at him about his desires and ask why he had been thinking about that. But a larger part of you worried far more about the fact that you had upset him with the freakish invasion by your powers, and you wanted to remedy it. You wanted to save this amazing new friendship. 

With the index cards and pen still in your hand, you quickly wrote a message to him. 

‘I’m sorry.’ 

You wrote down, and then quickly flipped it to show him. 

“It’s fine.” He huffed, clearly eager to escape the conversation. 

Once again, he tried to dodge around you. 

Once again, you blocked his path. 

And then, you wrote down something else to show him.

‘It’s not fine. I shouldn’t use my powers on you like it’s a game.’ 

“The Chief needs to explore your abilities, right?” Gar sighed quietly. 

‘Not at your expense.’ You reasoned. 

Gar was silent when he came into this information - like this was the first time he had ever truly considered that the Chief’s methods were unethical. 

‘We should make a deal. I shouldn’t use my powers on you unless it’s an emergency. Your mind should be your private space. I don’t get to go poking around in there for fun.’ 

You scribbled this down with haste, feeling very emotional about it. Then you handed it to Gar. 

He gave a small smile and nodded after he read it. 

“That - uh - that sounds fair.” He said, chuckling nervously. “And we… we don’t have to talk about what you saw.” 

You both nodded and dissolved into giggles at this. And then, he took off his jacket, and fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead to help the two of you forget about the whole thing. 

…

Back in your room at Titans Tower, so long after those first amazing days of your friendship with Gar - you fell asleep deep in thought about him. You couldn’t stop going over those early days in your mind. Thinking about all the intense kindness he had given you when the two of you had first met. 

Thinking about all of it truly made you realize how badly you had fucked up. You genuinely wondered if your friendship with him would ever have any chance at recovering from the cruelty you had shown him. 

You were genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place. You thought that if you told him about the things that had happened - about the visions you had seen - even if you stressed to him that it had been by accident, then he would feel that you had violated his privacy. He would be wounded by you seeing into his mind and not reporting it to him right away. He would be upset that your powers had put a wedge between the two of you. And now, he was upset because you had stolen his secrets and you weren’t confiding any of yours in him. 

You were a bad friend. And you didn’t know how to make it up to him. 

You woke up the next day feeling like crap.  

You quickly realized that Gar was avoiding you. He did finally come out of his room because Dick banged on his bedroom door, demanding in a harsh voice that if his illness was really that serious, he needed to get it checked out. And Gar came out shoving a hoodie over his head saying that he was fine - while wearing the saddest expression you had seen over his face in a long time. 

When you placed a coffee cup down in front of him as a peace offering - dark roast filled one third with vegan marshmallow flavored creamer, just how he liked it - he distinctly ignored it. He didn’t even look at you as he got up from the breakfast bar stool, taking nothing more than a dry piece of toast for breakfast before he stormed off toward the training room. 

He placed himself in a secluded corner of the gym with his headphones blasting music, doing harsh pushups and pummeling the punching bag. He was making it very clear that he wanted to be left alone. And even when Dick called all four of you into another room for a verbal quiz on The Art of War (where you wrote down your answers on a white board) - Gar refused to make eye contact with you. 

Even when you drew a satirical comic of Dick’s Robin cape being propelled by a fart (that you labeled ‘pent up aggression’) - Gar’s face didn’t flinch from the hard stone it had been set into. It made Jason snort water out of his nose and caused Rachel to call you both ‘immature’. And it got you a verbal lashing from Dick and three weeks of washing the dishes - by hand. So not worth it considering that Gar hadn’t even cracked a smile. 

Gar’s cold indifference toward you rolled right into dinner. Gar didn’t flinch or try to take sides when Jason and Rachel broke into an argument about what had happened during game night. Jason brought up how stupid the concept of the game had been and he and Rachel began arguing about the rules. 

(“If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!” 

“That’s not how it works, dickweed! Trivia is supposed to be difficult because you don’t know the answers!” 

“So not true. Trivia is a test of memory. How am I even supposed to remember the answer if I don’t know the damn source material?!”) 

The argument lasted long enough for you to finish your meal. 

When Dick realized they were debating who was the true loser of the bet you had made, he pointed out that regardless of any bets, you had to do the dishes as punishment for the dumb little drawing you had made. You didn’t care all that much as long as it got Jason and Rachel to shut up - but Jason was all too smug about it as he handed you his plate. Once you had finished cleaning up, something you found oddly calming, a nice distraction from the chaos of the last few days - you found yourself wandering to Rachel’s door. 

Much like you, she didn’t talk about her powers often. 

Especially not since she had been tricked into summoning her demon father to earth and then she had been forced to kill him because of what he did to all her friends - the people she considered family. But you knew that like you, she had some kind of capability to see into other people’s minds - to delve into their memories or walk the long, winding halls of their thoughts. You knew she might be the only other person on earth who might be able to understand what you were going through. Someone who could give you some kind of solid advice about it. 

After steeling yourself with a sharp breath, you raised your hand and knocked, waiting to see if she would even answer. The music that she was playing stopped, and after a moment, she opened the door, a look of surprise knitting over her features when her eyes fell upon you. 

“Y/N.” She greeted you in a quiet voice. “What is it?” 

‘I need to talk to you.’ You signed to her. You had some hope that she would understand what you meant, but her face was immediately overtaken with confusion. 

“I’m sorry - I.” She sighed, quickly cutting herself off, looking for the right words to explain it. “Between Dick’s whole list of mandatory reading stuff, and the sparring practice… I’ve been meaning to, but I haven’t had any time to study sign language,” 

She had genuine regret in her voice, which you could appreciate. 

You exhaled through your nose, a deep sigh. 

You gently pushed past her, inviting yourself into her room to settle in for the conversation. It did frustrate you that ASL wasn’t just a common language that was taught in schools, especially because it was psychologically proven that it was easy for toddlers to pick up on it with their brains being at a developmental age for it. It frustrated you that sometimes it was difficult for you to communicate with the people around you. But you tried not to let it get to you often. 

You got your cell phone out of your pocket, gesturing with it to let her know you would be texting her the things you needed to say. It was a simple, easy system. You invited yourself to sit on her bed, flopping back among the messy, unmade dark sheets as you carefully chose and typed out the words you needed to say. Rachel settled back into her desk chair, turning on her music once more, adjusting the volume to a low hum that settled into the background. You recognized it as the Arctic Monkeys and silently admired her taste in music. 

‘Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?’ 

You sent the message. It took only a moment to race through cyberspace and you heard Rachel’s phone ping where it sat on the desk beside her. 

She picked up the phone and looked at your message. She then looked back at you with her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought pulling them tight together. 

“Well there was that one time I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” She began. 

You cut her off with a raised hand and a pair of wide eyes glaring her down. 

You looked back to your phone and began typing another message, wanting to clarify what you meant. 

‘With your powers. Have you ever seen something with your powers that you didn’t want to see?’ You typed it out quickly, hitting send. 

Rachel read it over, placing her phone against her chin pensively as she contemplated the answer. 

“I… I don’t know.” Her voice was thick with thought. “I used to have these horrible nightmares. Almost every single night. And now I realize that those nightmares are what led me here. And I wouldn’t have been able to stop Trigon if I hadn’t seen those things.” 

Your throat tightened up. 

You and Rachel had never really talked like this before. You almost felt bad asking her for advice, knowing your problems were very different from hers. Quite pedestrian compared to the woes of somebody who had literally stopped the apocalypse and saved your life, and everyone else’s. You were worried about a school girl crush and she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

“Why, what did you see?” Her curiosity leaked through her lips. She had quickly connected the dots to realize that you wouldn’t be asking questions like this if you hadn’t seen something of significance. 

Naturally, you weren’t going to tell her the details. Not only because the things you had seen were incredibly graphic, revealing, and private, but because you did suspect that she had some kind of small crush on Gar. And you didn’t want to crush her small hope of being with him and make her upset. Especially considering you had seen what she could do when she was upset. 

You opened the one-way text conversation and thought for a moment, carefully contemplating what you would tell her. 

‘I saw something private. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to see.’ You sent the vague words, and she read them over quickly. 

“What, like a sex dream?” She posed. 

There was a laugh on the edge of her voice, as though she was only joking. But the accuracy of the comedic prod scared you. You wanted to change the topic quickly - before she truly sniffed out the truth. 

‘Doesn’t matter.’ You sent quickly. When she saw the three small bubbles pop up, indicating that you were typing more, she simply waited. ‘Have you ever felt weird acting on information you’ve gotten from your dreams? Doesn’t it feel like cheating the system? Like you should just shut up and pretend to be normal?’ 

Rachel sighed, a sharp breath that clung to the insides of her throat. She placed her phone down in her lap and leaned back in her desk chair, swaying slightly with the swivel of the rolling chair’s base. 

“I don’t think any of us can just pretend to be normal.” She noted quietly. 

Rachel’s words were calm and wise. It was something she had probably realized about herself a long time ago. It was a truth you had yet to fall to. You caught glimpses of the future in your dreams, you could see things about people they never dared to admit to themselves. You were in love with a man who could turn himself into a tiger at will, and yet, your heart still cried for something that resembled ‘normal’. 

Rachel saw it written all over your face - that warring. And more of that oddly aged wisdom came pouring from her lips before she could stop it. 

“What’s that saying?” She pondered aloud. “‘What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.’” 

It was a saying you had never heard of before, but it was oddly comforting in those moments. The idea that ‘normal’ means something drastically different for everyone. 

When you didn’t say anything, didn’t pick up your phone to start typing, Rachel continued. 

“I mean, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be the spider, or the fly, but…” 

She trailed off for a moment, getting lost in thought. She looked up at you when she had found the proper words, her eyes filled with a steely determination. 

“Look, somehow, I saved Dawn from a coma.” She firmly reminded you. “She didn’t give me an open invitation to go poking around inside her brain, but she needed me. And I needed her. I know having the ability to see inside people’s minds can be weird. But you shouldn’t just go around pretending you can’t do it because you’re afraid you’ll hurt people’s feelings, or whatever. You could save their lives.” 

You knew the information you had obtained wasn’t exactly life saving, but she had a point. An excellent one. Maybe the reason your powers were acting up like this was because Gar was reaching out to you. Maybe it was because he had felt the same way about you for a long time now and he didn’t have the guts to tell you either. So unconsciously, he was reaching out, trying to show you his feelings so he wouldn’t have to risk getting hurt.  

‘Thank you. That actually really helps.’ You sent the message and gave her a smile, hopping off the bed and leaving the room once again. 

…  

You had some time to kill before going to talk to Gar. 

You really wanted to talk to him this time - truly wanted to conquer everything you had been holding back over these past few days. So you were hoping that everyone else would be in bed asleep so they couldn’t interrupt the two of you. 

You took up some of the time with a nice, long shower. Which was partially interrupted by Jason banging on the bathroom door, complaining about how long you were taking - once again. And you took your time getting ready afterwards. 

You did your hair neatly and smoothed nice smelling lotion all over your skin. Of course, the thought did occur to you that the ‘conversation’ could lead to you and Gar having sex. That’s what had been so prominently on his mind for the past few weeks. That thought likely did influence your decision to put on a pair of skimpy, cute lace underwear and forego wearing a bra underneath your pajamas. A thin matchy cotton tank top and shorts set. 

Your stomach was ripe with bubbles, absolutely full of air and anxiety as you sat on your bed, waiting for more time to pass. There was a book in your hand that you barely knew the name or contents of as you tried to kill more time. Your eyes flicked over to the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Surely you had waited long enough. 

You didn’t bother with socks or slippers, your cold feet eager and quiet on the floor as you sneaked your way to Gar’s room. You were surprised to find empty, his wide open door revealing a messy, unmade bed without him in it. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, almost losing your courage and going back to bed. 

But then your eyes landed on his nightstand. 

There was a wide picture frame holding the picture of him and his parents. And tucked into one of the outer creases of the frame’s wood was something else - two photobooth pictures of the two of you. The pictures were from the first time he had snuck you out of the house to take you to the arcade at the roller rink. You had taken the other two pictures off the set of four, and always kept them in whatever journal you were currently working on. 

Seeing the memento kept so close to him, so dear - it filled you with a fresh wave of confidence and desire. You turned around, determined to find him. Luckily, there weren’t that many places to check. 

The kitchen and living space were empty. The bathroom was empty and the doors to the security room were shut - meaning Dick was likely in there, researching something, occupied. The only other place to check was the training room. 

Gar was in there, putting himself through another rigorous training routine. Clearly he couldn’t sleep with the fight the two of you had still weighing on his mind. And he was quite a sight to behold. 

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. He was pounding away at the heavy punching bag, clearly trying to take out some of the frustrations that you had caused to run ramped inside of him. He was aglow with sweat, the tips of his green hair hanging down in his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His tight abs were slick and shiny in the light in a way that made you want to lick your lips. 

His attire easily revealed the delicious cut V of his hips and even a slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants, and they were beginning to slip slightly due to his activity. You could see a rather impressive bulge, signifying that he was definitely not wearing any underwear. It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag. You had to force yourself not to become distracted by the movement of that mighty snake inside his pants - especially now that you knew what it felt like against you when it was throbbing and hard. 

He either hadn’t noticed your presence yet or didn’t care to interrupt his workout to acknowledge you.

“If you came to train, don’t let me bother you.” 

Gar huffed quietly when he finally paused his movements for a moment. He sounded so entirely wounded, and the words caused pain to radiate through your chest. He leaned down to pick up his water bottle between the two clunky foam gloves without taking them off. He took a large gulp from it while he not-so-subtly eyed you through his peripheral vision, clearly waiting for your reaction. 

“Apparently that’s all I am to you lately.” 

He added on after he swallowed the water, deadly quiet. His words were barely louder than the metal creaking as the punching bag continued to swing from the residual momentum. But you heard him absolutely clear. 

The sentiment weighed on your heart like a pound of bricks. 

You knew there were no words to explain it to him. You knew he would still be angered at you for using your powers on him without permission, even if it was by mistake. You couldn’t explain how it had been a mistake, how it had only been with him. You still didn’t know exactly why or how it had happened. 

After he gulped down a healthy dose of water, he tossed the bottle aside and rose to his full height. For the first time all day, he finally cast his attention over toward you. His face was set with one of the most sullen expressions you had ever seen. You hadn’t seen him this upset since he had attacked that man back at the asylum. Every bit a kicked puppy, as you looked at him, you tried to find the right words, but came up empty. You almost turned to walk away, almost burned dry of the courage you needed to face this. 

But with Rachel’s words still ringing in your ears, you looked into his glassy eyes, and for the first time in a long time - you pushed into the quiet realm of his mind purposefully. You needed to dig to find something that would help you. Something that could remind you of how perfect you were with Gar. 

You were surrounded once again by the thick, plush world of his own imagination. 

Even if it wasn’t that different from the world you lived in. 

The two of you were in the training room, with him wearing a blindfold as you practiced the unorthodox drill that was assigned to you. You got in a few good hits with the practice sword in your hands, and ultimately tackled him to the ground. 

The two of you ended up in a position that wasn’t too different from the reality of the day before. Though it was playful and light, rather than hypersexual and startled. 

You pinned him down with your thighs on either side of his waist, your hips sitting dangerously above his. Your body weight was balanced partially on your knees and partially on him. You held your wooden sword to his throat, poised in a threat you would never carry out against him. 

He swallowed hard, his throat muscles jerking underneath the wood. You knew it was more because of the rising heat your compromising position was causing him and not because he was actually afraid of you. Or perhaps him being just a tiny bit afraid of you turned him on that little bit more. 

You let out a laugh as you tossed the sword away, leaning in to take off his blindfold and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” He asked, regarding the unique new affection you had never really shown him before. 

‘Kiss it better.’ You signed, before leaving in and leaving a deeper, more heated kiss fully on his mouth. 

You forced yourself out of the thick, hazy daydream then. 

This was the answer. No words would be able to fix this - you needed to kiss it better. 

‘Kiss it better.’ 

You repeated this to yourself in the real world, confirming it as the truth. 

Gar read the signs you performed and - out of context - it draped him in hopeful confusion. 

He continued to stare you down with that delicately confused look enveloping his features as you marched across the room toward him, your steps over the cushioned mats of the floor filled with pure determination. 

He wondered if he had read your signing wrong, or if you were really planning to kiss him. Part of him thought you were going to hit him, or finally flip out on him for whatever perceived crime he had committed. And when you did it - he could hardly believe that it was truly, finally happening. That it wasn’t some dream. 

You reached up and grabbed him by both sides of his sweat damped head. And after years of waiting - you pulled him into your lips. 

Without hesitation, going on the pure fire in your belly, you kissed him. 

You channeled every ounce of raw need that had built up since the first time he had sucked you into a daydream where he so ferociously kissed you. His shock was evident at first. His whole body went stiff under your touch, which almost caused you to pull away. But a small moan rang out from the back of his throat - something that made you instantly dizzy with need. It made your lips seek out his with even more force, making your grip on his head clamp down as if to not let him escape. 

He began to kiss you back with just as much ferocity as he had in his dreams - echoing out another moan as he truly appreciated the taste of your lips. 

You felt him move but you didn’t open your eyes to look. You heard the tearing of velcro as you gnashed your teeth across his top lip and then latched onto the bottom one. Behind your back, he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor with a careless, quiet thump. Then his arms were around you, snaking around your waist. His flat palms went up the back of your shirt like impossibly hot magnets and pulled your body to his. He closed the small gap you had left for fear of being rejected - he welcomed you into his world with the utmost sincerity. 

Your shirt stuck to him because of the sweat he had worked up, and you wanted it off immediately. You wanted all your clothes off. You wanted to feel the naked rawness of the bulge you could feel swelling against your hip. But for now, you were too distracted by the other sensations he drowned you in to even consider pulling away to strip down. 

You were too caught up in the wicked work his tongue was doing as it snaked past your lips. You were obsessed with the loving way his hands held you. You lavished in the heat of his body as it radiated out against you like a wildfire. One of his hands was sprawled out in the middle of your back underneath your shirt. The other cupping the back of your head like you were the most beautiful, delicate doll he had ever had the pleasure of holding in his life. 

Eventually, both of you were forced to pull away from the kiss - succumbing to that formidable human breath. 

“Is this real?” 

Gar said quietly, seemingly almost more to himself as he pulled away from your lips. 

You opened your eyes, running a hand down to gently cup his cheek. He felt your gaze on him and opened his eyes. For the first time in days, he stared into your eyes so intimately and the dream became real. 

“Are you forreal right now?” 

These words were a bit louder. 

Not loud enough to break the sacred bubble of hot mingled breaths, spit, and sweat you had created. He wouldn’t dare do anything to shatter this if it was just another sleepy fantasy. But even if it was a fantasy, he still wanted to ask for your consent. That much you realized. 

Hesitantly, you tore your hands away from his glistening, flushed skin to formulate your reply. 

‘I want you.’ You told him simply. 

Without another moment of hesitance, he used the strong hold of his arms around your torso to take you to the ground. 

You wrapped your legs around him upon instinct. Your arms came up to clasp around the back of his neck as your ankles fumbled somewhere on his back. The action unintentionally drew your hot centers closer together. 

Gar bringing you down elicited a surprised squeak from you, which staved off into light laughter as your back met the mats. The laughter was easily echoed by him, deep and hardy. The sound turned into a playful, pleasurable growl into your neck as he ran his teeth along the skin there, nipping, marking his territory. You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you - but fuck, the noise ran a shock up your spine. It made your pussy clench around nothing and sent a wave of wetness into your underwear. 

This was going to be fun. 

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this.” 

Gar grunted into your neck, his voice already deepened by the cloud of his lust. His tongue licked a hot path down your skin into your cleavage. His hands ran down your sides to grip your hips through your shorts, his touch feeling blazen through the material. 

“Wanted you.” He groaned, sounding so lust-drunk already. “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

You had some idea. 

But just hearing him say it, feeling the words vibrate against your skin made you moan for him. It made your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder blades. You were desperate for some kind of anchor on the plane of reality to assure yourself that you weren’t lost in the depth of another beautiful dream. 

You were vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room. Maybe multiple cameras seeing what Dick’s personality was like. Hell, Batman was the one who had designed and built the place and Dick was only teaching you guys what he had been taught. He probably used the footage of you guys training to review your weaknesses so he could make you better - build better soldiers. 

But all those thoughts melted out of your mind the moment that Gar lifted up your shirt. He continued the wet trail with his tongue down the middle of your stomach, stopping once and a while to make sloppy kisses against your skin. You knew exactly what his intentions were when his hands curled into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once. 

Your legs fell limp as he started to pull them off. 

A fresh wave of heat surged through you, making you absolutely drunk as he tossed your clothes behind him. He poised himself between your bent knees, kissing up your thigh with a tight hold on it, holding himself up with the other hand. 

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled out, low, heavy under his breath. You moaned out, only getting drunker with his words. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.” 

You didn’t have a moment to sign to him, to give him some kind of encouragement or permission before he was diving in. He got low on his knees, wrapping both his hands possessively around your thighs. He leaned some of his weight on his elbows and from what you could see - canted his hips toward the mats, fruitlessly humping against the softness, seeking some kind of relief. 

He used his hands to spread your legs - not that it was much of an effort. Your legs practically fell open at his touch. You whimpered hard in the back of your throat as you felt his breath fanning out over your wet pussy. A heavy moan swelled on your tongue when he licked a broad stripe across you from your hole to your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, you taste so fucking good.” 

He hoisted your legs over his shoulders so your feet rested comfortably on his back, laying so he was more flat on his stomach, clearly getting comfortable. He laid a few tender kisses on the inside of your thigh. Then he looked up at you with dark, ferocious eyes. 

“Just, ah… smack me on the head if you want me to stop, okay?” Gar told you. 

Clearly, he was saying this for your safety - putting in a failsafe in case you changed your mind or became overwhelmed. But it came off as a sharp, pleasant warning of what was to come. 

Your pussy throbbed and you only ached for him to hurry up, biting your lip as you looked down at him. You nodded briskly, communicating that you understood his words. You had a feeling you most certainly wouldn’t want him to stop. 

Gar’s fingers dug into the tenderness of your thighs as he ducked his head down, latching onto your swollen, needy flesh. He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’. Like with everything he did in life, he did with the utmost enthusiasm and passion. He lapped at you, put his beautiful pink lips around you and sucked. He kissed your pussy just as passionately and wholly as he had your mouth. 

He shoved his tongue between your folds and dragged it in long, languid strokes. Clearly he was eager to lap up every last bit of your essence that he could - eager to devour you. He moaned into your pussy, moaned just as loudly as if he were the one being pleasured. It made the vibrations of his tongue on your clit even more deadly. Your hands were on his hair in a minute, both of them grabbing up as much of the gorgeous green as you could and holding tight. The action pulled a rumble from deep in his chest as he was satisfied by the pleasant pain of you tugging at his roots.

“You’re so fucking good.” 

He moaned into you, and you echoed back a high pitched noise that you hardly recognized as your own. 

“Everything about you is perfect. Every inch of you is perfect.” 

His grip around your thighs became even more possessive, his fingers digging into you hard enough to leave marks. Your lust clouded brain couldn’t clock the pain. You could only enjoy the view of his gorgeous hands gripping your skin. He labored over your clit, determined to make you cum. He flicked his tongue hard and fast over your clit as his hot breath fanned over you in quick, lustful pants. The orgasm washed over you so suddenly, a rubber band snapped from his actions. The tension had been built up over weeks of him living inside your mind, torturing you through lustful dreams.  

Your back arched, every muscle in your body pulled tight. Your thighs quivered and spasmed around his head as he continued to grip them hard. Your mouth became a mess of foreign noises that sounded daft and dumb to you but were absolute music to Gar’s ears. 

He chased you hard the whole way through it, shoving his tongue deep inside your throbbing cunt so he wouldn’t miss a single drop of your juices as they flowed out of you. You thought perhaps he might come up for air when your orgasm subsided. The aftershocks were still shaking your thighs, one of your hands falling to lull by your side, the other petting fondly through Gar’s now even messier hair. But it seemed you were wrong. He was just getting started. 

He growled with a feral hunger, the noise making your hips jolt, unintentionally canting toward his face as a whimper fluttered from your lips. He lapped at you in a drunken, lazy way for a few moments before he went back to eating your pussy with a renewed kind of starvation. 

Nipping at your swollen pussy lips in a way that made your entire body jolt, forcing his tongue inside you and fucking you with it while his nose bumped at your thrumming clit. Your second orgasm built up so quickly on top of the first. Your fingers curled in his hair as an unspoken signal to it. The feeling of your nails digging into his scalp only driving him to makeout with your cunt with an even deeper desire. 

He soaked up your practically pornographic moans with reverence. The wear and tear on your extremely damaged vocal cords began to hurt your throat, but the noises were absolutely unstoppable as they poured from your lips. His talented tongue was forcefully driving the moans and whimpers from you. He loved the feeling of your fingers ripping at his hair, leaving a pleasant sting across his scalp. He didn’t let up at all as your second orgasm plowed through you. 

He wasn’t satisfied even as your voice was echoing the wrecked, harsh moans of a third. 

He had you panting, your lungs struggling for air. Your muscles twitching with the excess of adrenaline and electricity. You whimpered pathetically as he tongued over your intensely sensitive clit again. Deciding it was time to give in, you reached over and tapped him gently on the top of the head. 

He looked up at you with those beautiful, wide brown eyes. This time not a lick of innocence or confusion anywhere to be seen - his irises completely overtaken with a deep, primal lust. 

You crooked your finger at him, motioning for him to come back towards your face. He kissed the inside of your thigh a few more times. He unintentionally smeared your sticky wetness, which had gathered on his lips in a heady, thick coating, across your skin. 

“I love your pussy so fucking much.” He murmured into your skin. 

Hearing him spout such filthy words without shame sent another wave of heat rolling through your belly. You had no idea how you were still so needy after cumming so many times, but Gar had easily done that to you. 

You reached over and gently tugged on his hair again, bringing his attention back to you. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t know how to ask for it. Surely, there had to be a sign in ASL for intercourse - but you just didn’t know what it was. You had never felt the need to look it up before now. You decided to improv, knowing that Gar would get the meaning either way. He always understood when it came to you. 

You raised your hands, making a partially closed fist with one hand and sticking your finger into it. You knew that it was probably a rather juvenile motion. To make your point perfectly clear, you mouthed the words ‘fuck me’ in an exaggerated way, hoping it would be easy enough for him to pick up on. 

“You want me to fuck you?” 

He gently shucked your legs off his shoulders, sitting up on his knees. He wiped your essence off his mouth with the palm of his hand, a delighted, surprised expression falling over his features. 

You nodded swiftly, enthusiasm spreading across your face, biting your lip as you could barely contain a giddy smile. 

“I mean, I don’t have a condom or anything… should I go find one?” 

He moved slightly as if to get up and leave you, but you were quick to trap him, hooking your knees around his thighs and squeezing tight. This touch was a good enough signal to bring his attention back to you. 

‘Don’t worry about it.’ You signed to him, firm and final. 

He clearly wanted to question you, but there was something heavy dancing in your eyes, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by pushing it. 

(You were infertile. Just another thing your illness had taken from you. If it meant this moment with Gar would be a bit more worry-free, then you’d take it. If it meant he would break up with you down the road because he wanted kids that you couldn’t have… then you’d just enjoy the time with him that you were given.)

“Okay.” He breathed quietly. 

Your attention shifted dramatically when his hand moved to adjust his cock in his pants, which was straining harshly through the fabric. It was a long, thick outline like a shadow beaming out from the black fabric, with a damp spot at the tip. Fuck. 

Eating you out had turned him on so much that he was leaking precum into his pants, quite a lot of it. You latched onto your bottom lip at the sight of it. You couldn’t help but to outright stare now that you were allowed to look - lavishing your eyes over the thick, magnetic outline of his beautiful cock. His hand gripped it once more, adjusting himself, trying to make his throbbing cock more comfortable where it strained against the fabric. It made the sight even hotter somehow, and your eyes jumped up to his to see the almost shy look on his face. Even after what he’d done, he was shy about you staring at his bulge. 

‘Show me.’ 

You egged him on, trying to be encouraging. You wanted to play up the obvious desire that you knew was prominent on your face by pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes for him. He raised his hand to the edge of his pants, but his muscles strained, hesitant still. 

As a show of good faith, you sat up slightly, peeling off your tank top, which was now stuck to you with sweat. Your skin appreciated the cool air of the room, and your ego preened at the way Gar’s eyes devoured the newly revealed skin. 

He let out a harsh breath before he stood up on the spot and took his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles and kicking them away. 

“I thought you might laugh at me.” He said quietly, insecurity racking his voice. “Because… ya know… the carpet matches the drapes.” 

Laughing was the last thing you were thinking about doing. 

As you laid there, propped up by your elbows, staring at him, your mind could only focus on how entirely fantastic he looked. His body was so perfect, his muscles built, building up more each day with the training. His whole body covered in perfect, smooth skin, surrounding a gorgeous, filthy prize that you had only dreamed about being this amazing in real life. 

His cock sprang out from a nest of green pubic hair - which yes, ‘the carpet does match the drapes’. But you found that to be nothing to laugh at. There was absolutely nothing laughable about the gorgeous, nine inch monster that stood proudly in front of you - smooth skin covering hardened, gorgeous flesh just like the rest of him. With a drooling, bright pink tip just ready for your lips to be wrapped around it. 

‘Why would I ever laugh at such a beautiful prize?’ You told him, assuring him that you held nothing but admiration and lust for his body. 

A light dusting of pink came over his cheeks, absolute flattery from your words. He dropped down to his knees once again. His cock bobbed so deliciously as he moved, and you knew that would be so whipped by the ability to have it. When Gar realized the power he could hold over you with sex - you would be done for. 

“Jason thought it was pretty funny.” He shrugged, his voice gruff with the memory of it. 

‘Jason is a clown.’ You assured him. 

The conversation was cast aside when he gripped your ankles, playfully tugging you across the mats toward him - something that caused more giggles to erupt from your throat. 

Then, he was hovering over you on his hands and knees once again. With one hand beside your head, the other came over to grasp your chin with two fingers. It was so light and careful compared to his previous touches. He peered down into your eyes, making your stomach seize up with the sheer amount of love and affection he stared you down with. 

If you didn’t feel the same way for him, you might have backed down from the towering might of his feelings. You might have been tempted to run from something so divinely grand and beautiful. But no - you wanted to be his. You wanted to make him yours. 

‘Take me.’ You mouthed. 

Your hands were numb and useless at your sides. Your body was stilled by the cosmic depths of his affection, hoping your silent lips alone would be enough. 

Gar leaned down and swept your mouth into a kiss. His thumb on your chin rubbed sweet circles on your skin as his lips smoothed into yours. Your tongue reached out to eagerly dive into the cavern of his mouth. Soon his touch was gone from your face as your hands woke up to find him, to reach out for the perfection of his body. 

You eagerly sought out to touch his arms, his back, his ass, anything you could reach. He used his hand to hoist your knee gently over his thigh, opening you up to him. Then he poised his cock perfectly at your hot, leaking entrance. 

“You sure about this?” He breathed across your cheek, pulling away from the kiss to ensure your consent one last time. 

You nodded with the most frantic posture you could muster, impatient breaths spilling from your nostrils and pouring across his clammy skin. 

Satisfied with this, he rolled his hips forward. Finally, after weeks - no, years - of waiting in quiet agitation for him, you became complete. 

Even with his massive size, his cock slid easily inside you. 

Your pussy was readied by the many orgasms he gave you, your muscles relaxed and naturally slicked up for him. He fit perfectly like he belonged there, your hot inner walls pulling him in. Your hot cunt clung to his cock in a way that made him groan deeply into your neck. The feeling made his buttocks tense as he pulled together his last ounces of self control to not lose it - to not pound into you like a careless sex doll. You were perfect, and you deserved to be treated perfectly. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock.” 

He groaned, leaning down on his elbows. He trapped you completely in his warmth, pressing his body firmly into yours from chest to chest to where he was smothered deep inside you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.” 

You dug your nails into the muscles of his back - hearing your name on his lips with such a gravelly desire making your pussy squeeze around him. After a few restrained moments, he finally pulled his hips back and began to move. It started off as a slow, deliberate grind, a slow drag of his hips into yours, but it quickly became unhinged. Not that you minded one bit. You wanted to tempt that animal inside him - you wanted to see his rougher side.  

The sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he hammered his hips into yours. The sounds almost completely drowning out the quiet wave of your pathetic whimpers and his possessive growls. He tried to trap the sounds in the skin of your neck, while gnawing mindlessly at your skin, sure to leave some kind of mark on you. 

He was impossibly heavy and hot inside you, hitting all the best spots. His cock drove more electricity into your nerve endings and absolutely milked you for everything you could give. His knees pinned open your thighs where they jolted and jumped, your body so overstimulated from your previous orgasms that they wanted to clamp shut on his hips to keep him from moving. Your unconscious wanted to pin him down and hold him there - wanted to hold him inside you so that you could feel so impossibly full forever. 

And then, just as you felt another orgasm coming to form like a screeching fire in your belly, he dared to raise his head from your neck, dared to look into your eyes. 

Before you knew it, you were tumbling once again through the thick curtain of reality and into his mind. You were pulled against your will into another one of his fantasies. 

In the fantasy, you were on your back, still, completely naked. You were slicked with a sheen of sweat with his thick, pulsing cock deep inside you. But this was slightly different. The material under your back was most certainly a mattress - plush, more giving than the stiffness of the padded floor of the training room. It had an almost too soft layer of silk sheets covering it that your skin stuck to unpleasantly with the sweat. 

Your hands were poised on Gar’s chest, your nails digging into the skin there, leaving light marks. One of the things that stood out most to you about this picture was not the fact that Gar was having a fantasy about fucking you, but the ring on your finger. Seeing as this was his mind, he was the one who had put it there. Quite clearly a wedding ring or an engagement ring. It was beautifully ornate, poised on the correct finger for marriage. It held a bright green stone in the middle - green like a certain someone special to you. 

“Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Dream Gar moaned as he pounded into you, his hips taking on a sloppy rhythm as his orgasm drew near. 

“My beautiful wife. Mine. Finally fucking mine. You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” 

‘I’m yours.’ 

You found yourself mouthing the words without even realizing it, whipped out of the fantasy world so harshly once again. A very small part of your mind wondered if it had been a small slice of the future that you had seen or if it was simply a conjuring from Gar’s imagination. 

You didn’t have the time to think or care, because your body went into overdrive. The Real Gar’s forehead was now resting on your tits. His hands created a tight grip on your hips as he pounded into you harder, harsher, deep grunts spewing from his lips each time his cock settled back inside you. 

“Please cum for me, Y/N.” His words came out as a whining beg, something so wonderfully small from the man splitting you open on his cock. 

He kissed between your breasts, his thumb coming to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending jolts right through you. 

“Cum on my cock. Please.” 

With the vision still hot on your mind and his words searing through you, the orgasm tore you up like a rabid animal. It was like nothing else you had ever felt in your life - like your entire body was on fire, being entirely consumed by Gar, by his touch, by his love for you. Finally being owned by him, finally having the one thing you wanted, needed most. Finally having him, full and whole. 

You screamed so loudly it hurt your throat, something you knew you’d be feeling for days afterward. Your whole body shook around him while your eyes screwed shut, your head tilting backwards as the pleasure was exorcized from you. 

You felt a hot dampness under your fingertips that you recognized as blood. In the back of your mind, you realized that you had gripped him hard enough for your nails to cut him - but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, it only spurred him on more, if the deep, ferocious grunts pouring from his lips were any indication. He was absolutely wild as he chased his own orgasm, breath fanning out in hot grunts against your breasts as he bucked wildly into your spent, tired hips, making your muscles twitch with bitter overstimulation. 

“Fuck! Y/N!” He cried out as he came, finally spilling his thick, hot cum inside you. 

You let out a small moan at the feeling. It became even hotter when you felt his cum pooling around the base of his cock, where you were connected, and leaking down between your cheeks. He lingered inside you for a few moments, petting his hands up and down your sides while your hands laid numbly on his back. He pecked small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that were almost an irony to the whole interaction. It made you smile. 

You were quickly falling tired from the massive aerobic exercise and post-orgasm haze, disappointed by the fact that you had to get up and make your way back to bed. You hoped Gar would let you sleep in his. It came as a bitter shock when he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and cold as he moved away from you so suddenly. When you blinked, he was standing, bending over with his back to you as he picked up his pants and righted the legs so he could put them back on. 

What he did next came as even worse of a shock to you. 

“I - uh… I understand if you don’t want this to affect our friendship.” He said, just loud enough for you to hear him. His tone was flat, completely void of emotion. 

“I totally get being horny and just… needing someone. We’ve been locked up here for weeks, and like. Like you said, Jason’s a clown.” He let out a laugh, but it was hollow and tired. He clearly didn’t even think his own words were funny. 

The words were so strange in those moments they took far too long to process through your sex-hazy brain. 

Was he really insinuating that you might go to Jason for sex? Was he trying to… let you down easy? Was he saying that he only wanted to be friends? Friends with benefits? 

Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you? 

Your head was spinning with questions as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your whole body stiff as those beautiful, orgasmic chemicals faded away. It left you tired, shocked, and… feeling used. Your eyes scanned over Gar’s back as he tied up the drawstring of his pants. You focused on the dark red, deep, partially bleeding marks you had left. You had marked him, whether he liked it or not. You had some claim to him. You should. 

“I’m gonna stay for a while and finish my workout.” He told you quietly. “Do you need help getting back to bed?” 

When he came over and offered you a hand, you brushed it away. For the first time ever, you felt cold and unaccepting of his touch. You felt angry with him. How dare he invite you into his mind, show you how much he cared about you - how dare he fuck you with so much love and passion and then try to brush it all off as if it were nothing? 

‘I’m fine.’ You told him, hoping your coldness could come across in tired, limp handed signing. 

You forced yourself up on quivering knees and then onto your feet. You gathered your clothes where they had been carelessly tossed and shoved them back onto your used, dirty body. You would have preferred a shower first, but you preferred the precaution of drapery in case you did run into anyone on your way to the bathroom. 

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” 

These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room, going to the bathroom to ruminate on the whole experience by boiling yourself in hot, steaming water. 

…  

You thought about it for a long time while you were in the shower. 

Just stood there, under the hot spray and let your mind concentrate on the things Gar had said. He had fucked the living daylights out of you, ate your pussy like it was his fucking job. He was apparently having daydreams about doing so while calling you his fucking wife, and then once it was all said and done - he backed down from it. He told you that he ‘understood’ if you only wanted to be friends. 

He was afraid. 

It was like everything else in his life. He could transform into a fucking tiger, but he was afraid to bite people. He didn’t want to use the fantastic power that had been given to him. For years, he hid away with Doctor Caulder, a man who emotionally abused him and manipulated him. He had been too afraid to stand up for himself, too afraid to leave the house and chase the things he really wanted. 

And with you. He was clearly terrified you were going to reject him. He wanted a life with you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted you and your heart, he wanted your everything. But he was too afraid to voice it. He was too afraid he’d look like an idiot if you didn’t feel the same way. 

That’s probably why he had unconsciously reached out to you, unconsciously broadcasted his fantasies to you whenever you were near. And you’d thought it was your stupid powers acting up. 

Just like with kissing him to initiate that amazing sex - you were going to have to shake off your fear of rejection so that the two of you could be together already. 

… 

You woke up the next morning with a pounding migraine. 

Even with the preventative medications Doctor Caulder had prescribed to you to help with your seizures and migraines, the tumor that still lived inside your brain did get to torture you occasionally. When you lifted your head from your pillow and saw the gray, gloomy sky looming over San Francisco, the raindrops racing down your window, it didn’t take you long to figure out the cause of your pain. You groaned, falling face first back into your pillow, not wanting to get up. 

The ever present pain from coming from your head was topped off by soreness that had spread through your whole body - undeniable evidence that what happened between you and Gar last night wasn’t just another dream. Dreams don’t have consequences. Especially considering that your pussy was aching hard, still sore from having his impressive length splitting you open. On top of it all, your throat was stinging with an almost flu-like ache from having screamed so much through your surgery damaged vocal chords. 

You really hoped Dick would let you have one day off from training. You probably could have gotten through it with just your body being sore. But the migraine was already ravaging you, already turning your stomach sour with systematic nausea. 

You heard a knock on your door and sighed quietly. 

You had just barely hoisted yourself into a sitting position by the time the person entered. Squinting through your tired eyes, you were able to makeout a flash of green and immediately knew that it was Gar. 

“Hey, you don’t look so good. You feelin’ alright?” He knew the look that always settled upon your face when you were overtaken with such intense pain. He hardly needed to ask. “Where’s the bottle?” 

You motioned toward the drawer that held the item he spoke of - your hot water bottle, which you used to help ease the bitter pain of a migraine. He opened and closed a few drawers before he found it. Your eyes gently closed against the harsh light pouring in from the hallway, too sensitive to the light to actually look at him. 

“It’s okay, lay down.” He told you, his voice a comforting lull past the aching thrum in your forehead. He patted your thigh gently through your blanket, and you eased back onto the bed, throwing a forearm over your eyes to block the light. “I got it.” 

He went to the kitchen and filled the rubber bladder with boiling water, returning quickly with it and a glass of water. You took the now very hot water bottle. You gave him a small moan of gratitude as you placed it down on your pillow and pressed your forehead into it. 

In a practiced routine that only spoke to how much he loved you, he closed the bedroom door, blocking out the harsh light of the hallway. And then he walked around the bed to close the curtains, blocking out any potential light from the outside. He placed the glass of water down on your nightstand with a harsh clink that only radiated through your skull so painfully because of the migraine. Then you heard him open the nightstand drawer, digging around for your medication. 

You trusted that he knew which ones you needed right now. You trusted that he didn’t need your advice on how to take care of you. It was something he knew well after so long. 

You felt his fingers brushing your open palm, then felt the round tablets of your medication left there as he pulled away. 

“Sit up and take these.” He said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hurt you with a single decibel. 

He used a gentle grip on your forearm to hoist you into a sitting position, and you swallowed the medication dutifully with the water he’d brought. 

“I’ll tell Dick you need to sit out of training today.” He explained quietly. “You need anything else?” 

‘One thing.’ You signed to him, your hands weak and tired. 

Though your pain was disruptive, and you were glad Gar was not acting any different after what had happened last night, you couldn’t wait any longer before doing this. 

Before he could question what that thing was, you leaned in. Your lips easily found his in the darkness and you planted a smooth, gentle kiss on his mouth. 

‘Don’t wanna just be friends.’ You signed, opening your tired, painful eyes to see his reaction to your words. ‘I love you. I have loved you for a long time now.’ 

A broad smile came across his face, his expression of pure joy practically glowing in the darkness. 

“Yeah. Awesome. That sounds amazing. I love you too.” His voice was slightly louder now, his joy overriding his caution for your hypersensitive, pained ears.

He felt absolutely giddy - this was what he had been waiting for, dreaming of for so long. He wanted to climb in bed with you and lay by your side for the rest of the day. But he knew that he needed to attend to other things, and more importantly - you needed your rest. 

“Get some rest now, okay?” 

He tucked you into bed, made sure the covers were up over your body, full and warm with the hot water bottle under your head before he left the room once again. 

It wasn’t long before you heard voices coming from down the hall. 

“Where’s Y/N? We’re doing balance drills in ten minutes.” Dick’s gruff voice echoed down the hall, very obviously directed at Gar, who he’d sent to wake you up.

“She needs the day off. She’s got a wicked migraine and she needs rest when it gets like this,” Gar told him simply, hoping Dick would respect him at his word. 

“We don’t get days off, Gar.” Dick pressed. “All of us have to train through pain, or injury. Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you? Do you think they’re just gonna come back another day? Do you think they’re gonna stop shooting at you if you have to stop and bandage your boo boo?”

His words cut through you, causing a sallow pain to rise up in your chest. It was something you’d been hearing since your childhood - since your treatments and hospital stays had caused you to miss too many days off and your teachers quickly stopped taking pity on you. You had always been told to just work through your pain, that the world won’t stop for you. You considered getting up and just going to training. You wanted to tough it out just to show Dick that you could, that you could puke into a garbage can and keep going, that you could boot and rally. 

You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and in your pain heightened sensitivity, you heard the metal of the doorknob shift as someone put their hand around it. The sound of Dick coming to get you out of bed anyway. 

He didn’t get the chance, though. 

“Leave it, Grayson.” Gar’s voice growled - a harsh, sharp sound that you had rarely ever heard from him before. “You don’t understand what she’s going through, and I won’t have you pushing her until she pukes on the floor just to satisfy your ego. She already trains harder than you ask and you know she could probably kick your ass,” 

You heard a harsh sigh, a deep breath through nostrils - Dick’s surrender. His footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Gar’s followed shortly after. 

Your heart bloomed with affection, awed by the blanket of protection he had put around you. 

You really were his. You always have been. 

...

When Gar was getting dressed after his shower later that day - he came across a small box in his underwear drawer. It was the ring that Rita had given him before he left Caulder House, a very expensive looking vintage piece from her days on set. Gar tried to insist that he couldn’t take something so nice, so sentimental from her. But she had closed it tight into his palm with the promise that it would be yours someday - that he would use the polished emerald ring to propose to you. 

Of course, she saw that big, beautiful, dangerous thing brewing between the two of you from a mile away. Gar considered marching down the hall and giving it to you right then there. But he tucked the box back into his drawer. In honor of Rita’s vision - he would make it old Hollywood, romantic. 

He had plenty of time.

THE END.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie.That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don’t accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you’ve read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

[hutaoscoffinn]

hi i saw you started writing for bsd and you really are providing! i was wondering if i could request chuuya + dazai with a virgin/ inexperienced s/o.

also you should start putting your work on x reader tags (e.g dazai x reader chuuya x reader) so that your amazing work gets more notes!❤️

💞

SOBS YALL ARE SO SWEET and I do already include x readers in my tags but omg this was so cute and I love this idea omg its SO CUTE AND YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE AND SWEET okayokayokay

Warnings: very filthy, GN! Reader, this is genuinely so smutty oh my god, 18+, Dazai is a whore, Chuuya is a god of romance, fluff

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya

Requests: CLOSED

DAZAI OSAMU

He would feel so soft knowing you trusted him with your first time oh my god

Dazai has hella trust issues and he knows that it can be hard to trust someone

Especially trust them enough to give them your first time and to take good care of you and make it something memorable and hopefully not shitty

So goddamn he felt so much of your love when you trusted him with that

That moment when you trusted him with your first time and gave him your virginity is also when he knew you are the one he wants to spend his life with

N E WAYZ

This is still Dazai so your first time is absolutely not conventional

If you think it happens in a normal bed you’re absolutely wrong

Your first time definitely happened at the ADA because this is Dazai we are talking about

Nothing about your relationship is normal or conventional because its Osamu Dazai

He is an enigma that nobody can figure out even you but you’re still the closest to figuring him out sorry Kunikida you still know nothing

Now this doesnt mean that he won’t take the best care of you the whole time

Need him to go super slow for you and take his time? He will absolutely do it

If you want him to be rough and fast? He’s more than down

Just need him to be gentle and extra loving with praise constantly dripping from his lips? He will absolutely do it

Dazai will do anything for you he’s just so happy you’re trusting him so much

And even though your first time is definitely taking place on the small couch in the ADA office, he will do everything to make sure you are comfortable physically and emotionally

I mean sex isnt fun unless both people are enjoying it

Dazai has definitely been looking forward to this moment for a while now

I mean hes a horny mother fucker and he finds you extremely attractive, hot, sexy

You probably breathe in his direction and his dick stands up higher than the goddamn Eiffel Tower

Now as far as how it happened

It was most likely a day you felt extra needy for his attention and affection, attention he is more than happy to provide

And Dazai finds you longing for his love and presence adorable and extremely attractive

Hes a man whore ofc he loves attention especially from you

So when you visit him at work, following him around and sticking close to his side holding his hand or giving him small kisses when the others aren’t looking, he cant handle it

And thats how you ended up pressed against the door of the dark side computer room Kunikida always seems to beat Dazai up in

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” his voice is low and husky as it rasps into your ear. His hands slide up and down your sides as he presses his body against yours, trapping you between himself and the sturdy wooden door.

He’s breathing heavy, almost panting into your ear and you can hear his heart beat racing. Heat climbs up your neck and your face flushes with warmth. Your cheeks feel hot and you can feel his hard-on straining in his slacks. Your senses are heightened, heart beating faster as want and desire pools inside of your body as your eyes meet those of the man you love.

Dazai’s pupils are blown out with lust as he looks down at you, his face flushed with want and his lips trail down your neck.

You practically whine when his tongue swipes up your pulse hotly and Dazai feels as though he has reached heaven when he hears your voice. And yet, nothing can compare to how his heart fluttered when he hears you utter your next words.

“Osamu, baby please take me,” you beg desperately as you grip onto his trench coat, tugging him impossibly closer. He breathes in sharply as soon as the words he’s been waiting to hear fall from your lips.

He pulls back with a lazy smirk on his face, eyes dark as he leans closer to your face. The next words he whispers into your ear makes your body shiver in anticipation.

“Darling, I will ruin you.”

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

Unlike Dazai, Chuuya prefers to do things a more traditional and romantic way

Your first time with Chuuya is beautiful

Rose petals spread onto the bed, sweet candles lit all around your bedroom. Fresh, soft sheets on the bed and the finest silk pillowcases.

Chuuya adores you, you are his baby, his angel, his everything. He will always go above and beyond to ensure your comfort and to make sure the mood is as sultry and romantic as possible.

Your first time with Chuuya wouldnt happen as soon as you tell him you’re ready

He’s a patient man and he asks for your patience too, to let him make something special so that your first time is something pleasurable and rememberable

Something fit for royalty

He whisks you away for the whole day before he decides to end your night tangled up in the sheets and each other

Throughout the day he will use subtle touches he knows will rile you up as he treats you to fine dining and his time

Chuuya is a busy man, being an executive in the mafia doesnt exactly come with a lot of off time

Thats why he wants to make this entire experience so special, so that it doesnt seem like an afterthought, so you know that you aren’t an afterthought to him

He cherishes you so much, loves you so deeply, so he takes a whole day and dedicates it to just being with you before he ends it by showing you pure heaven

Chuuya will be slow and sweet, taking time to completely explore your stunning figure before he sinks inside of you

His lips will linger on your neck before he begins to slowly undress you and then worship every last inch of you

He wants to tease you, take things slow to make sure the mood is just right and that every inch of you is ready to be devoured by him

If you want roughness that will come after he has sunk inside of you and after the first round

Because there will be more than one

Chuuya is a greedy man, he will take and take and take until your body is unable to give him anymore, and every moment will be pure bliss

You dont know how long you have been on Chuuya’s lap, lips pressed messily together as he kisses you greedily. Every time one of you pulls away to breathe, the other almost immediately leans in after a split second.

“You, my angel,” he mumbles between your sweet kisses, “are my world.”

His hands trail up and down your body, gloves long discarded as his nimble fingers slip up your shirt to feel your smooth, soft skin. He grips at your hips and tugs you closer, pressing your core against the bulge you can feel straining in the fine material of his suit pants.

“Your body was crafted by the hands of the gods themselves,” he mumbles as his lips pull away from yours and he presses wet kisses to your cheek, trailing down to your jaw and then to your neck. Chuuya gently nips at your collarbone and he sucks gently, enjoying every last gasp and moan that leaves your lips.

Your back hits the silk sheets gently as he lays your body against the bed, hovering over you. His gaze slides over your body in a way that makes you feel vulnerable. He smiles slightly as he lifts the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to it as his eyes flit to yours. He leans down and his lips brush against your ear making your heart speed up and face rush with warmth.

“And I am going to guide you back to the heaven you descended from my love.”

[avocado-writing]

Strange Bedfellows

AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED Tangerine x Reader

Rated E, NSFT, MINORS DNI

3k words

Tagging: @honestlywtfisgoingon​​ @white-wolf-buckaroo​ @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy​ @venusthepirate​@lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​y @georgiee-riviere​​ @mushywutty​​ (thank u bullet-train-2022 for the gif!)

God, you hate him. 

You fucking hate him.

He’s arrogant, he’s vain, and you want to rip that stupid moustache off of his face and stamp on it. And there he is, fixing his hair in the sun visor. Calm as anything. 

“You alright back there?”

Lemon’s voice knocks you out of your silent, furious staring. You manage a wan smile. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

Tangerine’s attention is on you now, his smug look reflected back without even having to turn. 

“Take a picture, darling. It’ll last longer.”

You hate him. You’re seething, not swooning. 

You’re not sure exactly when this feeling of abject hatred manifested, but it was probably the first time you met him. You didn’t like to be paired up with people but your handler had told you it was a three-man job. So you were put with the twins. You like Lemon. He’s professional, to the point. 

But every time you catch Tangerine grooming himself on any reflective surface you feel anger bubble up inside you. He’s like a fucking budgerigar. 

It’s late by the time Lemon pulls into the carpark outside of the hotel. It’s only one of those shitty chain ones, but at the moment it looks like nirvana. You’re exhausted. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been on your feet since five this morning. You hate tailing jobs, perhaps even more than you hate the third person in this car. You prefer the ‘wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am’ sort of gigs where you just walk into a room and kill every fucker there. But no. Today you were stuck following thirty feet behind a mark for hours on end before you finally found the place you needed.

The actual non-walking part of the job had only taken about twenty minutes. Then you had to wipe yourselves down enough to walk back out onto the street looking presentable, and that took ages as well; blood has an annoying habit of getting everywhere. Especially when it’s not your own.

All you really want to do is hop into a shower and then a bed, get a solid eight hours, and head home. 

You’ve been so lost in your own thoughts you don’t realise Tangerine’s been holding your passenger seat door open for you. You frown.

“I can open my own bloody door.”

“Suit yourself then,” he sniffs, slamming it in your face. You take a moment to swallow your rage and open it once more, throwing Lemon a can you believe this? look. He shrugs. Lemon has been very clear about not wanting to get in the middle of your little squabbles. Grumpily you have no choice but to grab your overnight bag from the boot like they’ve done, and follow. Lemon locks the car and falls into line behind his brother. 

The receptionist smiles as you walk into the hotel foyer. Ambient music is playing, as if pleasant tunes will cover up the fact that the place is somewhat desperately in need of a renovation. You and Tangerine stand on opposite sides of the room as Lemon deals with the check-in, preoccupying yourselves with not looking at each other. 

Meaning you overhear the conversation at the desk.

“Alright, we have you down for two rooms,” the receptionist says.

Your blood runs cold. Both you and Tangerine snap to face her.

“No, that should be three,” Lemon says. The receptionist looks confused, checks her computer. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Only two rooms are on this reservation.”

“That’s fine, can we add a third onto that then?”

The receptionist swallows.

“I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight, sir.”

Lemon sighs, irritated, but keeps his cool. He might be a hired killer but he’s not the type of man who’d be rude to a customer service worker.

“Alright, we’ll make it work. Thank you,” he says, grabbing a couple of the little complimentary mints from the bowl on the desk.

You and Tangerine practically swarm Lemon, hands out ready to get a set of room keys. He looks between you and holds out a single bunch to you both.

“No,” you say quietly, knowing what he wants. 

“Well, I don’t share rooms,” Lemon informs you with a shrug. “Plus, I’ve not slept in the same room as him since I was seven, and I’m not doing it again as an adult.”

Tangerine sighs loudly, takes the keys from his brother. Lemon smiles.

“Thought so,” he says, turns, and heads off. 

You open your mouth to say something to Tangerine. He holds up his hand, stopping you before you can start.

“It’s one night. Are you really gonna cause a problem for this lovely receptionist over here?”

He nods in her direction. The receptionist is staring with pleading eyes.

You groan. No. You can share a room for one night. You probably won’t even have to talk to each other, just get in beds on opposite sides of the room and do your own thing. 

Tangerine watches you relent. 

“Alright. Fine. What room are we in?”

“‘Atta girl,” he says, and you want to shove the bowl of mints so far down his throat he chokes on them, but smells lovely doing it.

You follow him silently up the stairwell, letting him lead you to the prison you’re about to be trapped in for the next few hours with him.

Tangerine slides the key into the lock, turns it. The door opens with a loud creak and the two of you are met with the same, mortifying sight.

One bed. A double. It sits in the middle of the room as innocent as anything. Perfectly made up and invitingly comfortable.

“Oh, absolutely fucking not,” you state.

Tangerine lets out a long, long sigh, and walks in anyway.

“Are you serious? You really want to share a bed?”

“Well, not like we have much of a fucking choice, do we? Unless you want to take the floor, but I’m not doing that to save your pride.”

He puts his bag heavily on the right side of the bed with a sense of finality, and starts rummaging through it. 

You don’t want to share the bed. But you don’t want to prove him right about your pride, either. 

When he next looks up, the door is shut, and you’re looking through your own bag, grabbing your pyjamas and toothbrush.

“Do you want first dibs on the shower?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply, quickly, and dart into the bathroom. Mostly it’s so that you don’t have to face him any more and you can nurse your wounded ego. 

You strip and climb into the shower cubicle, relieved to find the jet is powerful. You get to using the hotel shampoo to wash your hair. It smells vaguely of apples and does a decent job of getting all the blood out that you didn’t get out earlier. The water swirls red around your feet, then pink, then eventually clear again. 

You’re not quite sure how long you spend there, ridding yourself of the day’s activities, but by the time you turn the shower off you’ve calmed down about the situation.

It’s just one night. The two of you can sleep back-to-back and never speak of it again. Though, with that being said, he probably won’t let it go - you can just see him teasing you about this for the rest of time.

Better beg your handler not to put you on a mission with the Twins again, then. Ever. 

There are a pair of well-used but clean bath towels hanging up. You pick the slightly nicer one and dry yourself off, before brushing your teeth and getting into your pyjamas. 

Tangerine is sitting up against the headboard, a book open in his lap. He raises an eyebrow.

“What?” you snip, feeling your anger growing again.

“Just looking at your pyjamas.”

“What’s wrong with my pyjamas?”

“Oh, nothing. They’re very… sweet.”

Alright, fine. Maybe they’re a cheap and cheerful pair you picked up from the supermarket clothes aisle, and maybe they have a picture of a sleepy kitten on the front. You didn’t expect anyone to fucking see them, did you?

Seeing he’s riled you up Tangerine grins, stands, and heads into the bathroom himself. You fling your dirty clothes into your bag and set about the business of drying your hair. It’s enough time for you to get your temper in check again, and you’re almost calm by the time he walks back into the bedroom.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

He’s not wearing a fucking shirt.

He’s wearing PJ bottoms, yeah, and they look expensive - probably silk or something. But he’s decided against the other half of the set. And good lord, you didn’t quite realise how chiselled the man is. 

You quickly look up at his face, trying to make sure he doesn't catch you staring.

“Aren’t you going to cover up?”

“Nope. Don’t sleep with a shirt on, love.”

Yeah, of course he doesn’t. You don’t let yourself be baited into an argument. Instead you climb into your half of the bed, lie as close to the edge as you can without falling out, and turn off your lamp.

You feel Tangerine climb in next to you. The bed dips a little, but you stay put.

There’s a beat.

“I’m going to read. Is the light going to bother you?”

You try to listen for any teasing when he speaks, but don’t hear any. He might just be… asking you a question.

“No. That’s fine,” you reply, eventually. 

He’s warm. Even though you’ve contorted your body to make sure the two of you don’t touch, you can still feel the heat coming off of him in spades. It’s quite nice actually. It’s a cold night and he’s like a hot water bottle. 

Not that you’d ever, ever admit that to him. 

And then there’s just the sound of breathing. The sound of breathing, and the solid feeling of him in the bed with you. You’re not sure when the last time you shared a bed with another person is. A long time. You don’t have a partner, don’t have time for that. And you’re not really a one-night-stand sort of person either. But it’s sort of comforting to have someone so close to you. You could get used to it.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Tangerine is calling you until he’s already said your name three times.

“Hmm?”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, shit.”

You sit up quickly, checking yourself over. Tangerine takes your arm in his hand and lifts it, showing you where you’ve received a wound on your bicep.

“Fuck. A bullet must have clipped me,” you sigh. You remember a couple of close calls today, but thought you’d scraped by. Clearly you were wrong.

“Hang on,” Tangerine says. He puts his book down on his side table and heads into the bathroom. When he returns, he has a first aid kit and a loo roll.

“Clean yourself up, and I’ll dress it,” he says, handing the latter to you. You spend a moment daubing at the blood, trying to stem the flow.

Then he begins to bandage you.

His hands are surprisingly gentle. You silently watch as he dresses your wound, pressing the sterile pad to it before securing it in place. His face is relaxed in the low light, concentrating.

He’s quite handsome.

“Thank you,” you say, eventually. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ve been on the receiving end of a gunshot myself. Nasty business.”

He looks up, meets your eyes. His are so, so blue.

“So, are you gonna tell me why you hate me so much?”

He doesn’t sound upset about it, like there’s any animosity behind his question. More than anything he just seems curious. 

You don’t really want to tell him. You don’t want to tell him that, actually, you don’t really mind how often he checks his appearance, because he always looks so good. That it’s fine when he’s a bit arrogant because it makes you laugh. That he’s a killer shot, a competent ally, and a brilliant person to have on your side in a fight.

That, actually, if you scrutinised your feelings closely enough, you’d find that you don’t hate him at all. And if you accept that, you open yourself up to a world of hurt if anything happens to either of you.

“Because,” you say, after a long while, “if I don’t hate you, I’m going to do the opposite, Tangerine.”

He seems surprised. His hand, which was at your arm, lifts to your face. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

When he kisses you, you don’t pull back.

It’s soft, actually. Gentle. His moustache tickles a little bit. 

“I don’t hate you either, love.”

The next kiss is a lot firmer. You slide your arms around his neck, pull yourself into his lap. His hands come to settle on your hips. At first they just sit there, but when he feels your tongue slide over his bottom lip he lets his hold get a bit rougher. Digs his fingertips into your skin to keep you in place.

“Tangerine,” you moan, and hate yourself for it. This man is making you moan the word ‘Tangerine’. You feel ridiculous.

But, clearly, it works for him, because then he’s shifting to lay you back on the bed, pressing one strong leg between yours. His thigh grinds into your cunt over your pyjamas and you gasp, not realising how embarrassingly wet you’ve become from a just kiss. 

“God, I’ve always wanted to tell you how gorgeous you are,” he groans, moving his lips from your mouth to your neck, running his teeth over your sensitive skin. The tiny touch of bite makes you buck up, rubbing your clit against his leg. You gasp, everything beginning to overwhelm you. Every sense is him. The smell of tobacco on him, the taste of the toothpaste from his mouth, the feeling of him pressing you down into the mattress.

A hand reaches up your shirt to palm your breast, squeezing you on the pleasing side of hard. You meet the touch like-for-like, running your fingers down his pectoral, delighting in just how solid it is. This man is a fucking slab of muscle, and he hides it all under his designer suits.

But now? Now, it’s all yours.

Tangerine peppers kisses down your sternum, over your stomach. When you feel his hands at your waistband you lift your hips to let him slide your pyjamas down and off your legs.

He slides you open with his thumbs, running one of them over you to feel the wetness gathered there.

“Gorgeous,” he reiterates, pressing his mouth to you. You groan and throw your head back, sinking your grip into the crisp white bed sheets. His tongue is hot as it slides between your folds. He relishes in tasting the effect he’s had on you.

He presses light sucks to your clit and you think you’re about to fucking jacknife off the bed. Instead, you bury your hands in his hair and pull him closer. Oh, his hair, his fucking hair. So long and well kept and perfectly grabbable. He growls as you tug, and you file that fun little fact away for later.

If there will be a later. Because, to be honest, with the way his tongue’s inside you right now, you’re spectacularly happy to make this a regular occurence.

He presses his face harder between your legs, desperate to chase your pleasure. He rolls his mouth up and down you, leaving long, languid strokes from your entrance to your clit. Every movement pushes you closer to the edge.

You come in his mouth, feeling your orgasm rush over you in waves.  

“That’s it,” he groans, fucking you with his tongue through it still, making the feeling almost unbearable. Stars cloud your vision, and you almost don’t notice when he pulls away, replacing his mouth with his cock. He rubs his head along you for a moment, coating himself in your slickness, before he begins to push inside you.

God, he’s big. You feel yourself being practically split open as he sinks into you. The stretch of his cock is almost orgasmic by itself, but it’s when you catch the way he’s looking at you that really takes your breath away.

Wide-eyed. Devotional. As if he’s trying to commit every detail of this to memory. As if your body is an altar and this is the way he worships it.

As he bottoms out inside you, fully sheathed, you wrap your arms around his neck once again and bring his lips to yours. Your tongues find each other again, moving together in languorous patterns, as he pulls his hips back and slams them home. Each hard thrust threatens to steal away your ability to breathe completely, letting you drown in the ocean of this moment. 

Your cunt is already overstimulated from the orgasm his mouth brought you. The slide of his cock in and out of you keeps you on that knife’s edge, each bump of him into that sweet spot buried deep inside. You come again and he fucks you even harder, the movement of his hips getting more erratic as he chases his own satiation.

You feel him release in hot jets inside you as he finally comes. You’ve never felt so full in your life.

The two of you collapse, still a tangle of limbs with him remaining inside you. The sweat of his skin sticks to yours. You run your hand up and down his back in affectionate little tickles. 

“I still can’t believe you don’t sleep with a shirt,” you mutter. Tangerine barks out a laugh, surprised, and then he’s kissing you again.

The next morning Lemon is already at breakfast. He looks over his coffee cup at the two of you, raising his eyebrows.

“Looks like you two slept well,” he states. 

“Yeah, eventually,” Tangerine agrees, and you choke on your tea.

[nobody7102]

I Don’t Hate You: Chapter 1

Warnings: none

Pairing: tasm! Peter Parker (Andrew) x Reader

A/N: So, I came up with this after re-watching "10 Things I Hate About You" Let me know if you'd like to be tagged

Main master-list

Series master-list

Chapter 2

_________________________________

The bustling sound of the hallway echoed from the counseling office as Harry sat looking around the small office bouncing his foot, he glanced around the room for the second time before he read over the name plaque stating “Miss Rosie” before he looked up and met the eyes of said counselor Miss Rosie who temporarily looked up from her computer. 

“I’ll be with you in just a minute, I just have to finish this…” she started to trail off as she typed. Reading over her words one last time she closed her computer, “So Mr. Osborn, this is the nineth school you’ve been to in the past ten years, Military Brat?” she asked, looking over his file.

Harry shook his head “No, my father’s a business man so he tr-”

“Alright that's enough” she stopped him moving to lean against her office window “Listen Mr. Osborn, I'm sure you won't find Midtown any different than your old schools because-” before she could continue an egg was thrown at her office window “The same little asswipe mother-fuckers are everywhere.” Not looking away from Harry, Miss Rosie raised her left arm, flipping off the students outside of the window before pushing off of the window and shifting through some papers on her desk “Now here is your schedule and locker combination, any questions?” she smiled. 

Shaking his head Harry gave a timid smile “No Ma’am” 

Miss Rosie nodded “Then go forth, scoot! I’ve got plenty of other people to see” made a shooing motion as she sat back down at her desk. 

As she started typing on her computer once more, almost mouthing the words as she typed them before a knock came to her office door frame. “Miss Rosie?” her secretary popped her head in. “Mr. Parker is here” she walked in further giving Rosie a slip of paper. “Oh dear… send him in” she motioned.

When the secretary left it only took a few minutes for a face all too familiar with the counseling office leaned against the door frame with a smirk upon his face “Mr. Parker, I see we’re making our visits a weekly ritual now” she motioned to the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh only just because I missed you, should I grab the lights?” he joked sarcastically.

“Very funny, It says you exposed yourself to a lunch lady” she waved the slip of paper slightly.

Rolling his eyes he said “It was a bratwurst…. It was a joke” she raised her eyebrow at him “I was eating” he hummed.

“With the teeth of your zipper Mr. Parker?....Bratwurst…” she shook her head “Aren’t we the optimist?” looking back down to her computer typing out something before looking back to Peter she sighed, and then wrote something down onto a piece of paper “Mr. Parker, try not to do anything else this week. I can only give out so many warnings a week before you get detention” she handed the slip of paper to him. “Next time keep it in your pouch, okay Mr. Parker?”

Nodding, he rose from the seat before exiting the office.

Shaking her head, Rosie hummed for a moment before turning to her computer “Bratwurst….” she hummed as she typed.

Out in the hallway Harry looked around at the lockers before he felt a tap on his shoulder, looking over he was met with a guy dressed in a button-up t-shirt and khakis. “Excuse me, are you the new guy?”

Harry just nodded “Yeah” he extended his hand “Harry Osborn” 

“Ned Leeds” Ned hummed “Now listen if you need anything I am your man” Ned wrapped his arm around his shoulder leading him down the hall. 

“Okay cool, ya know normally its like the debate team guys of the tech nerds who show the new guys around” Harry joked,

“Oh yeah, what losers” Ned laughed as a group of kids with blazers on passed one stopped grabbing Ned by the shoulder.

“Ned, the auditorium’s taken for we need a place to practice for the debate-” quickly shoving the guy off of him Ned shrugged his shoulders.

“Ned, who the hell is Ned?” He quickly caught up with Harry, as they approached a corner of the hallway Ned started to explain things to Harry “We've got your basic beautiful people.” Ned motioned to the group “Never talk to them unless they talk to you first”

“Why?”

Rolling his eyes as they approached the group “watch this”  he waved to the group smiling “hey guys” To which he was met with death glares. Pulling Harry to walk quicker they enter the quad of the campus, before motioning to a new group of people “The cowboys” he leaned closer to Harry to whisper “none of them have ever seen a horse, they all just jack off to Clint Eastwood” 

Motioning to a new group he continued “To the right, we have the Coffee Kids. Very jittery, always on edge. Don't make any sudden movements around them” to which Harry nodded “Future MBAs-” Ned started listing off multiple groups around them before he pointed to people dressed very similarly to him “We're all Ivy League, already accepted. I used to be with them-”

Harry cocked his brow as he cut Ned off “Why aren’t you doing it now?”

Shaking his head Ned sighed “Yesterday I was their god, but then Johnny Jameson, pack leader because his dad’s the head of the local newspaper. Told everyone that I got my computer parts second hand from a strip mall, so they kicked me out…. But I’ll get back, someday I’ll be sipping merlot and they'll be fixing my computers.  Yuppie greed and petty revenge is back, my friend”

Just as Harry and Ned are about to continue walking, Ned puts his hand out in front of Harry to stop him as two girls walk past them talking. As the girls walk by Harry’s eyes meet the Blonde to his right, she smiles at him before continuing on her way. He caught a glimpse of their conversation.

“I know there’s a difference between like and love. I like having clean notes but I love having study guides” The blonde stated to the dark haired girl walking next to her.

“Study guides really?” The other cocked her brow.

The Blonde laughed “At least you’re allowed to use the study guides on tests, where as your notes suck Liz” The Blonde hummed as they continued to walk

“I think I just witnessed an angle” he mumbled once the girls were far enough away. “What group is she in?” he turned to Ned. 

“The ‘Don’t even think about it’ group. Gwen Stacy, Sophomore, trust me you don’t want that” Ned brought Harry over to an empty table. 

“Why not?” he huffed.

“First off I could start with your haircut, but it doesn't matter. Secondly she has an incredibly uptight father, and it’s a widely known fact that the Stacy sisters aren’t allowed to date.”

Harry raised his eyebrow at Ned “She has a sister?!” 

Ned nodded once more “Y/N, and don’t even think about going for her either”

______________________________________

As notes flew around the classroom along with absent minded chatter, a clap emitted from the front of the room. “Now, Class… What did everyone think of The Cuckoo’s Calling?”

A girl from the back of the room raised her hand and then spoke “I thought it was so interesting how the brother w-” but she was quickly cut off by a voice from the front of the room.

“J.K. Rowling, Interesting? She's a racist, and she's transphobic, what's so interesting about that?”

The teacher rolled his eyes “Always with your opinions, Y/N…..” he mumbled shaking his head “Yes, Ms. Stacy?”

“Oh come one Mr. Dillon, you of all people can't say that I’m wrong” Y/N looked to Mr. Dillon.

“Well at least she’s made a name for herself” A boy seasted kitty corner to Y/N spoke “As opposed to a bitter self-righteous hag who has no friends.” causing a few students to laugh.

“Pipe down Flash” Mr. Dillon continued “Now Ms. Stacy I know Rowling isn’t as well liked anymore as she was, but this book has valut to the schools curriculum and I’m sure she's not like the authors you’re used too like Shakespear, Platt, Bronte-”

“Are you really just naming female authors that society has things against?” Y/N questioned but before Mr. Dillon could answer, Peter burst through the door looking around at the class. 

“What’ve I missed?” he hummed

“The oppressive patriarchal values that dictate our education” Y/N answered.

Peter gave a quick smile “Great” before he turned around and left.

“Hey, Hey!” Mr. Dillon yelled after him.

Flash quickly raised his hand “Mr. Dillon? Is there any chance we could get Y/N to take her Midol before she comes to class?” which earned more laughs from the class.

Mr. Dillon pointed to Flash “Some day you’re gonna get bitch-slapped and I’m not gonna do a thing to stop it” he turned around walking back over to his desk “And Y/N I want to thank you for your perspective,” This caused Y/N to smile before he continued “I know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of upper middle class suburban oppression.  It must be tough.” 

As soon as Mr. Dillon said Y/N’s smile deflated and she became bitter again as Mr. Dillon continued “But the next time you storm around the PTA crusading for better lunch meat, or whatever it is you complain about, ask them why they can’t buy a book written by a black man so I can teach about it in my own class” 

Nodding as he spoke Y/N looked up “Anything else?”

“Yeah” Dillon continued nodding “Go to the office. You’re pissing me off” Letting out a gasp Y/N raised her arms up as if to ask what she had done but before she could speak Dillon cut her off “Later, Ms. Stacy” he pointed to the door.

Letting out a huff she gathered her things before she exited the classroom making her way to the front office. 

_______________________________

Chattering with buzz as always people swarmed the office as Miss Rosie sat reading over her work. “... Undulating with desire, Adrienne removes her crimson cape...excitable, stiff and…” she paused thinking over the wording before calling out “Judith!” the secretary popped her head into the room “What’s another word for...engorged?

The lady thought for a moment “I’ll look it up” 

Miss Rosie went back to typing as she mumbled off words to herself “...swollen...turgid…”

             “Tumescent?” a voice interjected

Looking up form her work she met Y/N’s eyes as she thought about what she had said before typing it out “Thank you!” she moved the computer off to the side “So I hear you were terrorizing Mr. Dillon‘s class……. Again.”

Taking a seat Y/N crossed her arms “Expressing my opinion is not a terrorist action.”

Rosie raised her eyebrow at the comment “And The way you expressed your opinion to Eddie Brock? By the way, his testicle retrieval operation went quite well, in case you're interested.” she hummed.

Y/N smiled and thought about it “No, I wasn’t interested but I still maintain the fact that he kicked himself in the balls.”

Shaking her head Rosie brought them back to the subject at hand “The point is Y/N, people seem to think that you’re somewhat-”

“Tempestuous?” Y/N asked to cut her off.

“I believe ‘Heinous bitch’ is the term I hear used most often. You might want to work on that” 

Y/N rolled her eyes collecting her things once again. “As always, thank you for your excellent guidance.  I’ll let you get back to Anthony’s quivering heat” she spoke before she left.

Rosie hummed “Quivering heat….” she mumbled to herself “... I like that” she pulled the computer back over to her typing.

___________________________________

As people shuffled through the quad, Flash and Eddie stood watching as the people passed by. Watching as Gwen and Liz entered the quad Eddie nudged Flash.

“Hottie alert, your favorite virgin” Eddie laughed as Flash smiled giving Eddie a light shove. 

“I gotta say, the Stacy girls are just so something to me” Flash smirked.

Eddie shook his head “They’re outta reach, even for you Thompson”

“No one’s out of reach for me.” Flash’s smirk grew bigger.

Eddie crossed his arms “You wanna put money on that?”

Flash shook his head “Money I’ve got. I’m gonna do this for fun” he laughed.

As Eddie and Flash continued discussing the details of their deal, Harry and Ned watched them in their compromised “Who’s that asshole?” he hummed, eyeing Flash.

“That would be Flash Thompson, he’s a jerkoff,  footballer, and a model” Ned looked down at his book.

“He’s a model?” Harry scoffed

Ned thought about his words “Let me rephrase that, He’s a model for the school, the star and face of the football team. Rumor has it NFL has already offered him a deal”

Harry’s eyes widened “No shit, really?!”

Ned nodded “Really”

They’re gazes followed Flash and Eddied as they looked over to Gwen and Liz.

“Man, look at her.” Harry sighed 

Cocking his eyebrow Ned hummed “Is she always so...vapid?”

Harry’s eyes widened hearing Ned’s response “How can you say that?  She’s totally_

“Conceited?” Ned cut him off

Hitting Ned on the shoulder Harry shook his head “What are you talking about?  There’s more to her than you think.” he looked back at Gwen “I mean, look... look at the way she smiles. And look at her eyes, man.  She’s totally perfect.  I mean, you’re missing what’s there.”

Ned shook his head “No, Harry.  I’m sorry but what’s there is a snotty little Princess wearing a strategically planned skirt to make guys like us realize we can never touch her” Ned looked over to Gwen and Liz “and guys like, Flash realize they want to… and they can” he patted Harry’s shoulder “She, my friend, is what we’ll dream of having for the rest of our lives. It’s better to just move on now”

“No you’re wrong about her Ned, I just know you are” Harry hummed.

“Fine you wanna try and fall on your ass like an idiot?” Ned sighed “She’s looking for a French Tutor”

Harry’s eyes widened with a smile “Really?! That's perfect”

Ned dead eyed him “Really?” Harry nodded, “You speak french?” 

“Well-” Harry started “well no but I will.”

Pulled out of their conversation via the end of the day bell ringing, everyone started to make their way into the parking lot of Midtown.

Walking with her arm hooked to a redhead Y/N spoke blocking the sun from her eyes as they walked down the lot “I still can’t believe that you’re trying to put this show on”

“A modern telling of Much Ado About Nothing is exactly what the school needs” the redhead hummed. “Besides, can’t you picture me as Beatrice” she stopped to pose.

Y/N smiled shaking her head “Mary Jane you’re absolutely-” before she could finish she was cut off by the honking of a horn

“Hey.” Flash's voice called out “Haven’t you heard that Shakespears the new wuss, Watson?” he laughed.

As he slowly drove closer, Y/N flipped him off “Run along home Eugene” she smiled.

Watching the car drive off, it stopped in front of Gwen and Liz. Y/N and Mary Jane watched as Gwen and Liz exchanged a few words with FLash before they climbed into his car. 

“That's charming, Gwen likes Flash” Mary Jane rolled her eyes.

“It’s disgusting” Y/N shook her head before the pair split up making their way to their separate cars before pulling out of the parking lot.

As Y/N headed for the exit Ned’s bike dashed across her path earning him a honk from Y/N before she stuck her head out the window “You signal and then dive!” she yelled before getting back in the car and driving off.

Pulling his bike over to meet Harry, he shook his head “Are you okay?” Harry looked him over.

“Yeah I’m fine, Just a minor encounter with the devil…” he mumbled “I mean, your girlfriend's sister.”

“What?  That's Gwen’s sister?” Harry’s eyes widened watching the car leave.

“Mmhm.” Ned nodded watched the car with “The mewling, rampallian wretch herself.” he turned back to harry “Well I gotta go, don’t do anything stupid my firend.” Harry nodded watching as Ned took off down the road.

________________________

A/N: Taglist is open, let me know if you's like to be tagged!

[silversatoru]

Hi love! ❤️

Mkay so like.... Suguru walks in and finds out his gf has a cam acc- and just like straight up ruins her online

This has been on my mind all day but idfk how to write it

a/n: AHAH hey babe!!! this concept is 😌👌 so i hope i did you proud w this. also if ur really into the whole getting-ruined-online concept and you fuck w dabi may i recommended @katslutski ‘s smile for the camera series; it is one of my favs

getou suguru x f!reader

tags/warnings: masturbation, degradation, humiliation, dumbification, filming, facial, mild bondage, mild overstimulation

w/c: 1.4k

you rubbed your clit in rushed circles, projecting a cluster of fake high-pitched moans and arching your back for the camera. it really didn’t feel that great, but you were damn good at pretending it did — and the cash was flowing in as a result. 

you could see the notifications of donations and new patrons popping up on the side of your screen and you let a soft sigh of satisfaction leave your lips. these fuckers were so horny that they’d send you stacks of their income just to see you fondle your cunt — pigs.

between the blood rushing to your ears from your approaching orgasm and the soft music playing through you room you didn’t even notice the sound of your front door opening. you were completely unaware of your boyfriend’s presence in your home until he was standing in your bedroom doorway — a confused but amused expression across his face. 

“am i interrupting something?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“suguru! i thought you were busy today, i-” you scrambled to explain yourself and grab a sheet from your bed to pull over your exposed body. 

“plans changed,” he shrugged and cut you off, entering your bedroom, “maybe you should start locking your front door when you’re doing shit like this”. 

you stared at him with horrified eyes, worried that he might break up with you for this kind of thing — he didn’t seem mad but he definitely wasn’t happy either. you quickly lunged for your laptop/camera set-up, attempting to end your livestream, but suguru moved quicker. he grasped your wrist in his strong fingers and looked at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

“leave it on, doll,” he purred at you, releasing your wrist and pushing you back towards the bed, “go ahead and finish the show for them”. 

completely stunned, you fell back onto your elbows and gave him a hesitant look. it’s not like you were embarrassed or anything— shit, you did this like every day, but you were severely confused by his reaction.

he nodded at the computer screen with hazy eyes, “they’re waiting. why are you so shy all of the sudden? you should be used to having an audience”. 

after a final moment of hesitation you leaned back, fingers returning down to your clit to resume where you’d left off. it was a little more awkward with suguru watching, but the way he was ordering you around was kind of hot, so your stiffness quickly faded.

and you knew your body well, what worked and what didn’t, so it was only a matter of minutes before you were rocking your hips into your hand and letting exaggerated whimpers slide between your teeth. the orgasm was mediocre at best, but you had to dress it up and wrap it in a bow for your precious patrons.

at some point during your little show suguru had rid himself of his clothing and was now climbing into the messy sheets with you. 

“let me see your hands,” he stated blankly, his fingers gripped around the belt that had been looped through his pants just a few minutes ago. 

“this is live you know,” you gave him a concerned look — you were confused but not opposed, holding your hands out behind your back.

“oh, i know,” he took care in gently wrapping your wrists together as tight as the belt would go and then helped you onto you knees.

the duskiness of his eyes filled you with a splendid mix of fear and excitement, but before you could even get a good look you were being shoved into the bed.

“put your face in the pillows, doll,” he ordered lazily as you faceplanted into one of the several pillows at the head of your bed.

his strong hands were quickly gripped around your hips, the tip of his rock-hard member brushing teasingly against your entrance. you were already practically dripping, the sticky liquids from your earlier orgasm still glistening around your edges. it made his access easy, his aching cock sliding with little effort.

“let’s show all of your fans how much of a dumb cock-whore you become when i’m inside you,” he thrusted using hard, firm strokes right from the start.

and of course he was absolutely right — you lost any inkling of a coherent thought once you were stuffed full with his length. you moaned, whimpered, and squirmed underneath him like the pathetic little cam girl you were. but with suguru, none of your performance was a façade — he truly knew how to make you melt under his touch. and melted and useless was exactly how he liked you, so he had every intention of fucking you dumb in front of your audience today.

and that’s exactly what he did. it was his own foul way of punishing you; turning you into a drooling cum-slut who had completely forgotten she was being broadcasted live. if you wanted to be a whore for a living, he’d show everyone just how much of a whore you were — but only for him. 

you’re not even sure how long it’s been — all you know is that you’re orgasming for the fourth time; or was it the fifth? sixth? you’d lost count somewhere along the way.

dull waves of pleasure racked through your body and sent quivers under your skin. you whined and wriggled, murmuring incoherent babbles as you rocked your hips back and forth on his cock to milk the most out of your climax.

“that’s five times, baby,” suguru’s voice sounded miles away, “my dick feels good inside you, doesn’t it?”

you thrashed your head up and down against the pillow, mumbling the word yes over and over as your body twitched from overstimulation. glistening mixtures of fluids were squelching out as he continued thrusting into your cunt, some dripping all the way down your legs.

and he didn’t let you take any breaks — nonstop fucking you even while your pussy was throbbing with sensitivity. the overstimulation was excruciating, and you were a complete mess of trembles and whimpers.

“so pitiful,” you heard a dark laugh rumble from his throat, “there’s thousands and thousands of people watching you be my disgusting little fuck-toy right now, and you’re just gonna keep taking it, aren’t you?”

you weren’t even sure what he was saying, honestly. your brain had short circuited a while ago, and you were just absent mindedly nodding your head and mumbling agreements to everything he said. the pillowcase beneath your head was nearly soaked in saliva now too, your feeble mouth hanging open while drool continued to seep from the corners of your lips. 

“i think i want you to finish me with your mouth, doll, how does that sound?” he slowed his pace, pushing lazy thrusts into your hips while you mindlessly nodded your head again. 

“pathetic little baby; you have no idea what i’m even saying to you right now, do you?” you heard suguru laughing from behind you; but all you could manage in response was a few scattered whimpers. 

he abruptly unsheathed himself from inside you, and strangled whines escaped your throat at his sudden absence. no! more, please, please, suguru please, you murmured with an embarrassing lack of control and your boyfriend couldn’t do anything but laugh at you in your shameful state.

“turn around and open those pretty lips,” he reached down and helped you to flip over before straddling your chest and pressing his hot, sticky member against your lips. 

you opened them graciously, too braindead to even notice the bitter taste of his precum mixed with your own fluids. he mouth-fucked you with obscene force, the walls of your throat painfully expanding every time he thrusted in. you choked and sputtered, drool leaking down your lips and all over your chin. 

when suguru’s own orgasm was right on the cusp he removed himself from your mouth and sprayed his seed all over your face. from your forehead to your chest you were coated in sticky globs of semen, and you sucked down the drips that made it into your mouth like they were liquid gold. 

“lets see how many of your precious viewers come back after this — now that they saw you disintegrate into the helpless little cum slut that you are, now that they know you’re mine”. 

[suna-reversed]

Hello I came to request # 74) “Wow, I think you’re blushing even redder than the vibrator inside you.” from your nsfw prompt list. Where kenma tied us up with a vibrator(maybe other toys) and then left to do a stream and when he returns we are a overestimated mess and then he fucks us with the vibrant still in.

Post Timeskip! KENMA X F! READER// nsfw!!

warnings/tags- unprotected sex, role-play, overstimulation, nipple play, use of sex toys, light degradation, kenma calling the reader “bunny”

timeskip!spoilers

(art credit in picture)

- Kenma had always been big on role-play right from the first time you got intimate with each other. 

- So it was no new thing for you to surprise him every now and then dressed up in different costumes. 

- This time, you had dressed yourself in a set of black lace lingerie, black knee high socks with white stripes across the top and your personal favourite- black bunny ears that matched the little bunny design on the collar around your throat. 

- What you were not expecting as you walked into your shared bedroom, ready to surprise your boyfriend, was to be met with your own self on the camera screen, his own shock-filled eyes meeting yours through it. 

----

He was quick to turn the camera off, shutting off his live-stream that had at least a few thousand viewers. You stood there stunned, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you gave him a guilty smile, 

“I- I thought you weren’t streaming today.”

Kenma didn’t reply, instead raking his eyes all over your body, reaching out a hand for you to grab so that he could pull you into his lap. His finger traced the outline of the bunny ears, sliding down your face to flick your nose lightly, making you smile. 

How could he be mad at you? 

Well, he wasn’t. At least not until he opened his phone, planning to send a quick text to his manager about the situation before he fucked you senseless. Instead, he found his stream comments flooded with people. Comments that seemed to get progressively worse. 

“Who would’ve thought gamer boy was into that freaky shit.”

“Damn, I’d never leave the bed if that’s what was waiting for me.”

“Bet I can fuck her better than him...what I wouldn't give to choke her.”

You saw a few of the comments too from where your head rested on his chest. You squeaked as the gentle hold around your throat tightened. Kenma putting his phone aside with force, growling a low, “Get on the bed now, bunny.” into your ear that immediately sent you scrambling up to go lay back on the mattress. You watched him pull back his hair with a tie as he walked over to the closet, bending down to pull out a box filled with objects you were way too familiar with. You hear him rumbling around but you don’t see what he’s gotten as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back. 

“Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, and soon after you feel him lift your head slightly to slide down a velvety fabric over your eyes, blinding you. Next, it’s your wrists that are cuffed up to the headboard. You can tell Kenma is in no hurry as he takes his time running his hands all over your body, making you squirm desperately as you feel a damp spot growing on your panties. 

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so fucking wet” Kenma says while clicking his tongue. You only writhe around more in response, whines falling from your mouth. 

You gasp as a sharp slap comes down on your lace-clad mound. 

“Good bunnies don’t make noises, do they?” 

You still your body, muffling a moan as he pinches your nipples. 

“Good girl.” He says while humming appreciatively. “But I still think you need a punishment for the mess you just caused.” 

Your body shakes out of both anticipation and fear as you nod your head rapidly. Before you can even think of what he’s going to do, the sound of fabric ripping is heard in the air as his hands tear off the flimsy lace of your bra. This time, you’re not able to contain a shriek as something cold and metal clamps down on both of your nipples. That only results in Kenma pulling on the chain connecting the metal clamps on your sensitive nubs.

“Such a disobedient slut. Maybe I should just let one of those turds in the comment section fuck you, huh? Fill you up with their disgusting seed over and again when they won’t even be making you cum once?”

You shook your head, tears of shame welling up in your eyes and now streaming down your face, 

“No-no daddy, I’m a good bunny, only your bunny.” You sniffed loudly before continuing, “Please fuck your bunny daddy...only need your cock, no one else’s.” 

Kenma swore the restraint inside him was an inch apart from snapping. Instead, he ran his fingers over your covered cunt, making a sweet moan fall from your mouth. His hand fell away and you felt him moving around on the bed, his hand coming back only to move your panties aside. You let out a squeal of surprise as you felt the familiar shape of a slender rubber vibrator put inside you. 

“Mhmm I’ll fill you up real nice bunny. But daddy’s still gotta finish his stream. You’ll be patient for him , won’t you?”

You couldn’t exactly figure out what he was planning, but it all clicked as you felt the buzzing sensation of the vibrator, making your juices drip out onto the sheets. You felt Kenma come close to your face, a hand incling your head again,

“Now as much as I’d like for all those fuckers to listen to who makes you scream, I’d much rather not be distracted by your moans while I play.”

That was the last thing he said before stuffing a gag into your mouth. You felt his weight push off the bed completely, the sound of his computer switching on ringing in your ears as your legs quivered with the sensations inside your cunt, your lack of sight making you hyper aware of the pressure around your nipples. You felt your high approaching, thrashing around on the bed as you heard Kenma start his stream, apologising for the “minor inconvenience”. The coil in the bottom of your stomach snapped at the same time he said, “No worries now though, I’ve taken care of it.”

---------

And that is how you found yourself 2 hours later, face stained with tears as tiny sobs left your mouth making spit drool out from around the gag. The sheets were dripping with your juices, your body jerking every time Kenma changed the intensity of the buzzing inside of you. You almost fainted from relief as you heard Kenma announcing the end of his stream.

You continued to sniff as you felt the bed dip next to you, a whine escaping from as you felt the buzzing stop, a hand coming to slide down your blindfold and unchaining your wrists as he brushed the hair out of your sweat covered forehead with the other. 

Kenma’s heart clenched as you looked up at him with puppy eyes. He pulled the gag from your mouth, strings of drool falling coming off along with it. He sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead before asking, 

“What colour, bunny?”

It took your mess of a brain a second to comprehend his question. Still shaking, you mumbled out, “Green, daddy.”

You felt him smile against your forehead, before he pulled back, stripping himself off of his sweatshirt and grey pants as he got off the bed. Your eyes shot straight down to the bulging member underneath his boxers. 

Kenma got in between your legs, leaning forward to slide a finger underneath the collar on your throat, 

“Such a good girl for me. Just for me-” He said in between kisses along your neck, “Daddy thinks you deserve a reward.” 

“Please- please give me your cock daddy, need you so bad.” You cried out loud. 

And how could Kenma have said no to his precious little bunny? 

You threw your head back as you heard the sound of buzzing fill the air again at the same time you felt Kenma’s cock against your hole. 

“Think you can take it bunny?”

“Yes! Please stretch my cunt out daddy, just need to fee-”

You were cut off as the tip of Kenma’s thick girth entered you. You moaned at the burning stretch of your cunt, hands reaching up to tangle in his locks. You both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, hands coming up to grope your tits as he started thrusting his hips. 

“Fuck- you’re so tight- no one can fuck you as good as I do.”

You moaned in response, brain too fucked out to form an answer. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his thrusts getting deeper at the new angle as he rutted into you with no mercy. 

“Cum around me bunny- wanna feel you gush on my cock c’mon.” Kenma said, hand going down to hastily rub your sensitive nub, groaning as he felt your cunt clench down on him. 

Already over-stimulated from your previous orgasms, you screamed, back arching into the mattress as you came undone once again for the nth time. Kenma continued to fuck you through your orgasm, finding his own release soon after as he painted your insides with his seed, collapsing on top of you. You felt your vision going blurry and eyes rolling back as you felt him pull himself and the vibrator out of your poor abused cunt. 

----------

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of water around your body,

“Hey baby, there you are.” You felt Kenma’s voice rumble through behind you as his hands massaged your shoulders gently. You let out a small “hey” in response while nuzzling further back into his chest. 

“Was I too rough?”

“Mhmm no, I think I might have to walk in on your streams more often.”

“Maybe I’ll fuck you while they watch the next time.”

“KENMA-”

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Thanks to my favourite kenma kinnie @erenbae for helping me with this prompt🥰