#WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE PROTECT HER AND CONTINUE TO SAVE HER IN ALMOST EVERY FIGHT IF HE DIDN’T CARE

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi: *shows countless times in canon he cares about his students and wants to train them, but a lot of that training is outright skipped for ‘more interesting storyline’

Weirdo’s: nah, Kakashi didn’t teach any of his student’s anything and didn’t care about them at all.

[sincerelyneo]

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it. 

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.” 

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 

Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker. 

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 

But you do it. 

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 

You groan, I'm going to my room." 

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 

“What are you doing?” You spit. 

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy. 

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?" 

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question." 

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face. 

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 

Fuck no. Absolutely not. 

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 

"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 

He’s thought about this? You know you have. 

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off." 

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely. 

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl." 

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 

"You want it." He says point blankly. 

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget. 

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats. 

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now. 

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 

"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 

"I was hot." You shrug. 

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh. 

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

[prodbyton]

🎀cw. smut +18 mdni, dom!eunseok, situationship!eunseok, sub!reader, fem!reader, yn making eunseok jealous on purpose, yn is a little tipsy, degradation (barely), rough sex, protected sex (yay), other idols mentioned for plot hehe. not edited so if theres any errors look away :3

⭐️ wc. 3.5k (OOPS)

🎧 in the closet michael jackson

“eunseok, what are you doing here?” you almost walked past him, doing a double take once you recognized the tall male resting on the wall of the crowded club.

“i could ask you the same thing,” he looks at you up and down, grinning slightly when you shifted under his gaze.

“im here with my friends”

“mhm, and where are they now?” he questions you when he realizes that no one he’s seen you around before was accompanying you through your stroll around the establishment, and knowing you were probably drunk he didn’t want a stranger to be the one to get your attention.

“wony left with her boyfriend, and ryujin is talking to some girl over there” you pout, moving closer to the boy and placing your hand on his shoulder, he looks down at your face then to where your hand rests, trying to get a good idea of your sobriety before he chooses how he’ll continue the conversation.

“feeling left out?” he raises a brow and you nod, hand going to his chest, playing with the lining of the leather jacket that covered his body that you were craving to see. “why don’t you go find some guys to hit on?”

“thats what i’m doing right now, isn’t it?” you look up at him, catching his eyes before he fights back a chuckle. you bite the inside of your lip, watching him react the way you like. getting him nervous was a skill only you had, no matter how he tried to fight it, he felt a shiver run through his body whenever you touched him.

“you’re drunk, y/n. lemme take you home?” he grabs your hand that drags from his chest to his shoulder soothingly. at least that’s what he tells himself, trying to ignore your attempts in seducing him.

“im not drunk, just horny” oh. he’s not surprised by your bluntness but its good to know you want him this bad in your sober state.

“i should get you home then. wait for me here while i bring my car around, pretty”

it was honestly perfect that eunseok was at the club at the same time as you, you planned on texting him when you were ready to leave. if you were lucky (like now,) you hoped he would take you back to your place or his and fuck you like he always did if you were in your right mind. sometimes you two wouldn’t even make it there and would just fuck in his car, you were too captivating for the boy and when you leave the house in your revealing outfits, how could he resist you? after all you called him of all people, and that fills his chest with pride.

after a night of drinking and dancing with other men, you would always call eunseok to take you home. the thought of you grinding on other men and possibly doing more with them while you weren’t under his supervision makes his skin crawl but he won’t admit it, you two aren’t together and its not his place. you just want a good fuck, and eunseok will always be there to give it to you.

once he’s out of your line of vision you try to find ryujin, going to let her know that you’re leaving and that you’re safe.

“your little boyfriend coming to get you again?” she gives you that look she always has when eunseok is the topic of conversation. there was more to your little arrangement with him that she was able to sense, even if you two deny it. the way he would spend the night with you after you two had sex, the way he would buy you food and anything else if you asked, the way he’s always conveniently free every friday night to come pick you up from whatever party or club you were at, he was always there. you two were friends with benefits, so he’s just being a good friend. a friend that fucks you absolutely stupid. a friend that looks at you with hearts in his eyes.

“he’s not my boyfriend, and he was already here, which saved me a desperate text” you roll your eyes and do a little shoulder dance, giving her a hint on what tonight’s activities will be.

“mhm, have fun babes”

you finally walk out of the doors, the brisk air of the night hitting your sweaty skin makes you shiver as you find eunseoks car. he leans on the door of the passengers seat, staring at everyone leaving the club and looking for you. he watches the way you walk to his car, studying your frame and focusing on the way your legs look in that dress. he also takes note of the way your face contorts in discomfort from your heels, making sure to remember to carry you up to your apartment once you two get there.

“you’ve officially hit #1 on my roster, for being such a gentleman” you joke as you stand in front of him, and he raises a brow.

“who was #1 before? and what was my ranking?”

“definitely in my top 10,” you pretend to think, getting eunseok riled up called for a great fucking once you got home. “and i’d say #1 was probably… sunwoo”

“baby, we both know sunwoo couldn’t possibly fuck you nearly as well as i do. and who do you call whenever you’re horny after a party?” he grabs your chin with his hand to keep your eyes on him, and you press your thighs together at his assertiveness. you almost have to hold back a whimper, he’s just so hot. “thought so. now get in the car, it’s cold”

the car ride was comfortable. eunseok let you have aux per usual, and he smiled to himself at the way you sang along to every song. he parks his car next to yours — a spot you reserved just for him, a spot you told him was just a regular guest space so it wouldn’t go to his head. so he wouldn’t get attached — and he runs to the passengers side of the car to open your door, and once you’re out of the car he’s picking you up. you yelp at the action but you’re thankful, your heels were staring to burn from the time you spent standing in your heels.

eunseok knows your apartment inside and out, in the darkness he’s able to navigate the two of you to your bedroom and place you delicately on your bed. you sit on the edge and lean on the palms of your hands while the boy turns on your bedside lamp, keeping the room at a comfortable brightness to keep you in the mood.

“look so pretty tonight baby, who were you trying to impress?” he lifts your leg to take off your shoes, caressing the skin of your calf as he slides them off your feet.

“sunwoo” theres a playful glint in your voice and eunseok stills. he gives you a look, one you know means that you pushed one of his buttons. you like that look, cuz it means he’s gonna fuck you into the mattress if you keep pressing it.

“wrong answer. wanna try again?” he smiles, giving you a chance to take back your (unfunny) joke.

“wanna fuck me?” you push your chest up into the air, and eunseok tsks at your behavior. you were so desperate for him, going as far as getting him jealous and irritated just so he can fuck you.

“keep acting like a brat and see where that gets you” he raises his brow as a warning, and you think now you’ll drop your little bratty act and be a good girl for him, but why not push his buttons one more time?

“gets me far with sun-” you can barely get his name out when eunseok his pushing your thighs open and leaving a sharp slap on the skin of your inner thigh, causing you to yelp. he keeps his hand there as he brings his body down so his lips are by your ear and you shiver, his thigh just an inch away from your core. you want to shift your body so you can make contact, but eunseoks fingers are digging into your thigh to hold you down.

“don’t know why you like pissing me off, just wanna get fucked like a slut, huh?” his words go through your ear and straight to your clit, and you have to once again stop yourself from whimpering.

“want it so bad, seok”

he hums, finally deciding to give you what you want. his lips attach to your neck, leaving hungry open mouthed kisses across the skin while his hand grips your thigh tighter. his other hand is traveling up your waist up your your chest. he gropes your tits, and you sigh at the feeling of his fingers making contact with your nipple. he doesn’t say anything to you, just groping your body.

taking his mouth off of your neck, he removes both hands off your body and you whine at the loss. he takes in your already fucked out state, smiling to himself at how easy it was to get you worked up. he pushes your body down onto the bed, not too rough but hard enough for your weak body to fall easily. thats before he grabs your waist hard, flipping you onto your stomach.

“ass up, baby” he taps your thigh, and you quickly find your balance to sit on your knees, keeping your face in the pillows how he likes. he mutters a good girl while he lets his hand lay on the swell of your ass, bringing it down the arch in your back before bringing it back up. he repeats the action, this time letting his fingers catch the fabric of the tight dress you wore, bringing it down so it bunches up at your stomach. he groans at the pretty lace panties you wore under your dress, wet patch prominent on them as you wiggle your ass in the air as a hint you want him to touch you.

“you made a mess in your panties” he coos at you as his fingers slowly hook onto the hem of the garment, pulling it down and seeing the string of your arousal that clung to you. you whine, pushing your face deeper into the pillow in embarrassment. eunseok really was the only one who could make you like this — completely soaked through your panties and have you so submissive despite your fiery personality. your pride and common sense left your body when it came to him. you didn’t care how stupid you looked begging for attention from a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend, you didn’t care how your friends would tell you to leave him alone if you two weren’t going to make it official, you couldn’t care when he was always there for you regardless of your arrangement, you couldn’t care when he makes you feel this good even when he’s barely touching you.

he brings his thumb to your core, gathering the slick thats dripping out of you before pushing it inside of you and you gasp, body jolting at the contact. he takes his thumb out of you and drags it down to your clit, pressing on the nub forcing a moan out of you. his finger circles your clit a few times and you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your body feels hot.

you grind against his finger, and he presses harder. “just fuck me already”

“gotta stretch you out first pretty girl,”

“dont care, want- need you now” eunseok groans at your eagerness. he knows how much you struggle to take him fully if he doesn’t prep you first, but with you pissing him off all night maybe you can struggle a bit.

he steps off the bed to get himself undressed, nearly tripping as he steps out of his pants. he grabs his wallet out of his jean pocket and pulls out a condom, tearing the packet open with his teeth and sliding the condom on. he hisses, he hasn’t touched his cock at all this whole night, too focused on how jealous he was and helping get you off.

getting back on the bed, he pumps himself a few times before placing his hand on your ass, lining up his cock with your hole. he presses in slightly, tip prodding at your entrance but not enough for you to feel him.

“seok-”

“show me how bad you want it” grabbing a fistful of your ass, he lets go to bring his hand back down harshly on the skin. you cry out, body jerking forward before eunseok is holding you in place.

you move your arms into a better position, moving your head from off the pillow so you could look behind you. you rest on your elbows, bringing one arm behind you so you could reach eunseok. the tip of his cock was so close to pushing inside of you, and when you push back onto him it almost gets fully swallowed by your wet heat. without his support its hard for you to get him inside of you fully and you whine, pushing back harder onto him in an attempt to get him inside of you.

he wants to laugh and tell you how pathetic you look trying to fuck yourself on him, dick not even inside you and you’re moaning. he wants to tease you and tell you that this is why he preps you. wordlessly, he pushes his tip inside of you fully. the both of you let out sounds of pleasure as your cunt takes him in.

it takes you a minute to relax around him, letting him push all the way inside of you. you feel so full, the pain from the stretch subsiding and you crave more. you move forward, letting him slide out of you almost completely until just the tip is inside of you before you press your ass to him, squeezing around his cock as he bottoms out again. your body trembles under his hold, the way he stays still with his hands on your ass, and he grips the flesh tighter each time you move.

he lets you get yourself off on his cock, giving you words of encouragement to keep going and slapping your ass each time your pace faltered. you felt like you were on cloud nine, but it still wasn’t enough. you couldn’t get him deep enough, and you weren’t moving fast enough for your own and his liking.

“fuck me, eunseok”

that's all he needed to move one of his arms to push your lower body back into the mattress, grabbing both your arms to put them behind your back and snap his hips forward. he fucks you with purpose, your body is weak under him as he builds a fast pace. you can feel the way his dick stretches you out with each pull, and you can’t help the way you clench around him each time his hips kiss the skin of your ass.

“pussy so tight for me, just for me right?” he lets his jealousy peek through, moaning and leaning over you to press his cock deeper inside of you. your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sensation, you open your mouth to moan but nothing comes out.

“yes, just for you- all for you” your voice is slightly muffled by the pillow, but eunseok can hear you and he’s satisfied with your answer. he thrusts harder, and you can feel the pressure of your orgasm building up in your stomach. “close, so close”

he could feel it, he knows once you can barely keep your eyes open and you cant let out any sounds that you’re going to cum soon, like you’re holding your breath anticipating the orgasm he’ll be forcing out of you.

except he’s not fucking you anymore. he’s pulled out of you and let your body fall limp against the mattress, body trembling and the shock of being deprived of sweet realease finally comes over you. your tense muscles stop you from sitting up and grabbing at him, all you can do is turn your body around so you’re on your back, weak no’s and please leave your mouth as eunseok watches you.

denying you an orgasm was evil, he knew it. but you deserved it tonight. and honestly, he was going to cum soon as well and needed a breather. he can never last long when he fucks you from behind, and fucking you in that dress — that goddamn dress you wore tonight, he swears he would’ve taken you in front of everyone in that club.

once he feels like he’s tortured you enough, he spreads your legs open, inching closer to you and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. he holds onto the flesh of your thigh tight, and he uses his other hand to guide his cock back into your hole. it’s quick, and you almost scream with how deep he feels in this position.

he’s so pretty, focused on where your bodies connect as he finds the pace that makes you react the best. you stare at his face, the way it contorts in pleasure as he tries to get you to your peak. then you look at the way the muscles on his stomach contract, how you see his toned stomach glisten in the dim light of your room each time he pushed back into you.

“this pretty pussy is all for me right?” his free hand moves to your clit and you moan loudly as his fingers rub tight circles around the swollen bud. your throat was dry as you tried to get a word out.

“y-yours, seok-” you had a hand in the sheets, fingers turning white as the other goes to the back of eunseoks neck. you hold him close to your face, body bending almost uncomfortably but you felt too good to care.

“you like when i fuck you like this?” his words were warm against your lips, eyes locked in on yours as he talked to you. you were so close you could almost taste it.

“love it, love your cock, love it so mu-mngh” you were cut off by a rough kiss to your lips, his tongue swirling in your mouth once before he pulled away, face still close to yours as he looked in your eyes.

“i love you”

shit. fuck.

you didn't have enough time to process the words that left his lips before you were cumming, moaning right in eunseoks face and he pressed his lips to yours again. you tried your best to kiss back but your vision was going blurry and you were fading in and out of consciousness. he lifts his body up so he can fuck you faster, fingers still on your clit as your pussy spasmed around him. his orgasm hit him not too long after, hips stilling while he filled the condom up with his cum.

he took his fingers off you, pulling out of you and letting your body rest for a moment before he has to clean you up. he sits there, realizing that he just told you he loves you mid fuck. he doesn’t know what he should do — nothing he could say could help his case. what if you don't feel the same way? what if you did but he says the wrong thing? he doesn’t want to fuck this up. he’d rather have you like this than to not have you at all.

you were asleep now, eunseok wiped his face with his hands before getting up. he rid himself of the condom he wore and got a towel to clean you up with, shushing you softly when you whimper at the sensitivity. he put his boxers back on before walking out of your room, making way to your kitchen to get you some water. he sits you up and makes you drink it, telling you that you were so good for him and that you need your rest.

once you both were cleaned up, eunseok gets into bed with you and spoons you under the covers. before you let your fatigue take over, you let your brain recover the words said before you blanked out.

“did you mean it?” your voice was soft, a part of you hoped the boy was still awake, so he could tell you what he meant. but another part of you wished he was still asleep, you didn’t want to bear the emotions of being rejected right before you went to sleep. not while he was still here, in bed with you.

“of course i meant it. now go to sleep, pretty girl. we’ll talk in the morning”

a/n: when i tell yall this was supposed to be at most 1.5k but i got carried away… eunseok makes me crazy. i hope you guys enjoyed it <33

[kayharrisons]

It's getting dark, darling, too dark to see [Bjorn x afab!Reader] [part 1 of 2]

Your friends are dead. Their blood still soaks your hands, their screams fill the silence of the night. But Bjorn is there, through it all. Sole survivors Bjorn x fem!reader

Next Part

A/N: not me caving and writing Bjorn x Reader FJZKVMSKFKD I am in DEEP in this fandom my brain is rotting and I am SO fucking obsessed, so have this random ass lil fic I just wrote! Title of the fic from Thistle & Weeds by Mumford and Sons! This is gonna be some angsty shit so buckle in, it's gonna be a LOT and this is only the first part

Warnings for the series: general alien themes, MAJOR character death, blood, graphic depictions of violence, trauma, trauma bonding, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!), technical cousin incest (Kay/Bjorn), childbirth

The hauler is silent, save for the odd mechanical rumble or beeping from the cockpit.

Not even a few hours ago, you were all laughing here, dreaming of the future you would all have on Yvaga, the fact that you would all feel sunlight on your skin, breathe in fresh air.

Only two of you would.

Bjorn sits on the floor not far from you, cradling Kay's lifeless body. His eyes haven't left her face, her pale, grey face.

Kay was always smiling, always had a twinkle in her eye, a laugh in her throat. Kay had been too sweet for Jackson, Kay had been the exact kind of person who deserved to live a full and happy life on Yvaga, to bask in the sunshine that would never be quite as warm as her.

Kay was dead, now. Killed by the child she'd tried so hard to protect this entire journey.

You can't stop staring at her.

Her skin now void of colour, her eyes still open in horror, her lower half soaked in blood. If the creature hadn't killed her, then the blood loss would have.

The hauler cruises through the stars on autopilot. Rain had set the course for Yvaga and-

Rain.

You almost throw up.

You'd seen it, on the cameras. As Bjorn sobbed and pleaded with Kay to not leave him, as her blood soaked his clothes and her breathing stopped in his arms, you had seen the security footage of Rain dangling from the cable, that thing piercing the helmet she was wearing.

Then you had heard it, Rain managing to hit the audio button on her helmet, how she had screamed at you to close the hatch, to seal her and the creature out.

"Rain, you'll die-" you had shrieked, fingers panicky, hovering over the buttons with uncertainty.

"But the rest of you will live!" she had fired back, shrieking again as the creature continued to pierce the glass of her helmet. "[Y/N], please, PLEASE-"

You'd done it, collapsing to the floor unable to watch as the hatch closed, as it severed the cable Rain was attached to. Unable to watch your friend be sent to death by your hand.

You still sit on the cold metal floor, staring at Kay, at Bjorn, who's more quiet than you've ever seen him. His eyes are haunted, silent tears streaking down his cheeks, his chest heaving with every breath he takes, as if it pains him to do so.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out why.

He'd seen Navarro with a creature bursting free from her chest, seen her body twitch and twitch until it went oh so very still. Had seen his cousin stabbed through the chest, being dragged and flung around like a puppet before his blood had rained down upon you all from where the Xenomorph had taken him, his screams falling to choked whimpers that were more nauseating than the stabbing itself. Had seen Kay, sweet Kay, be impaled through her shoulder, had witnessed her taking th compound, giving birth in a spray of blood and gore to the creature that had stolen her life.

Her baby.

His baby.

It's not hard to realise who the "asshole" father of her child is, not when he's sobbing and clutching onto her corpse as if it alone will bring her back.

It should surprise you. But it doesn't.

They'd always been close, having met before Tyler's father had adopted her when she was 8.

They should have raised their baby together on Yvaga, a sweet young couple with their cute baby. You imagine it having Kay's curls, her warmth, Bjorn's eyes, his cheeky grin.

But no. There are no happy endings to be found here.

"Bjorn," you speak up, for the first time in hours. His eyes don't leave Kay. Your voice cracks. "Bjorn, you have to let her go."

"No."

It's said so simply, so matter of fact, as if he can't fathom such a thing.

"She's dead-"

"I fuckin' know," he snaps back, icy eyes meeting yours. "I know! She's-" a shaky exhale, more of a shudder than anything else, as he leans down, touching his forehead to Kay's, as he rocks her back and forth for a moment. "I know." he repeats, hoarse, almost childlike.

You fall silent again, giving him time to process, to grieve her, to grieve all of them.

He finally exhales sometime later, a sigh of anguish, as he presses a kiss to her forehead, as his lips linger on her skin for the last time. "I love you," you hear him murmur into the crown of her hair, he lets out a sob. "Alright? I love you. It's always, always been you."

And with that, he leans back, hands shakily unclasping her necklace and pocketing it.

His red rimmed eyes meet yours, and he nods firmly. You raise on shaky legs and move over to him, helping him gently move Kay to the floor.

"Rain's dead." you inform him, blandly, your stomach still churning with the horror of it all.

"Wondered where she'd fucked off to." he remarks as you stand side by side, your fingers brushing against one another's.

"Andy's dead too." you add, and he remains silent, jaw clenching. "Processors just... stopped, I think, after Rain..."

"His prime directive failed." Bjorn says, slowly, after a moment, eyes landing on Andy's still form in the corridor, the milky white of his blood having pooled down into the grates. "He shut down once he knew about Rain."

You scrub a hand down your bloody face (Tyler's, you think), and sigh.

What a fucking mess it all is.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

You both fall into silence once more.

Kay and Andy's bodies are gone. You'd wrapped them both in the blankets Kay had brought along with her, ones she'd hoped to use for the baby.

Bjorn had looked close to throwing up at the sight of them, and had promptly suggested using those in place of any other materials you may find useful.

The bodies had been wrapped in the blankets, soft, pretty things, so unlike the harshness of Jackson. Neither of you had said anything as you'd pressed the button to open the airlock, watching the bodies disappear into deep space.

You cling tight to each others hands, staring at the now closed airlock.

Tyler would say something heartfelt, something moving, would make you laugh through the pain of it all.

But Tyler is dead too.

You are all that remains, you and Bjorn.

"...the course is all set for Yvaga." You inform him, quietly, and he nods.

"Right."

"We should... probably start figuring out what to do."

"Right."

"Bjorn-" your voice cracking is what prompts him to finally look at you. "-don't. Don't do that. Don't disappear."

You wouldn't be able to bear it. Watching Bjorn-- Bjorn who was so full of life, always cracking a joke or a quip, always rolling his eyes and cheekily grinning, who always had something to say no matter what-- fade and fade into a shell of himself.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asks, oh so broken, so unlike the man he is. "Give me one good fuckin' reason-"

"I can't lose you too," you whisper, shattered, fingers tightening around his. "It's selfish, I know, but you're- I just can't lose someone else, okay?"

It sends him into silence again, his fingers tightening around yours to the point of near pain. You don't mind it. Keeps you grounded, reminds you that you're not alone. That, despite it all, despite the horrors you had faced, you're alive, and you're not alone.

"So, what do we do about these fuckin' cryopods, then? Could use a sleep after all that." he lets go, turning to face the pods, scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

You take one last look at the airlock before joining him.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

You argue over who goes in first. In the end, Bjorn wins, and it's purely because you recognise the tightness of his shoulders, the panic in his eyes.

He wanted you to go in first because of what had happened to Kay.

Logically, it's silly, and you both realise this. You're not pregnant, nor have you taken the compound. But the last time he'd watched someone go in...

You get it completely.

"You promise you'll get into a pod right away?" you ask, down to your tank top and underwear, your ruined clothes having been immediately shoved into the garbage shute.

"Got a few things to finish up, first." he says, down to his boxers and a fresh t-shirt, Kay's necklace now around his neck. "Gonna clean the place up a bit, so we don't wake up to..."

You nod, rubbing the back of your neck. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm out, okay?"

"Oh, fuckin' charmin' one you are, love," he bites back, rolling his eyes. "Bloke offers to clean the place and you imply he's thick or summit. S'why you're single."

You can't help but smile. You'd take the insults over the silence any day.

"Mean it though, Bjorn. You finish up with that, then you get right into a pod."

"Fuckin' christ, alright, mum."

You look at each other a moment, your hands teaching out and finding each others, all without taking your eyes off of one another.

"You ready?" he asks you, fingers clutching yours tight. His palm is clammy, his fingers calloused from working the mines from the age of sixteen.

"No." You say, quite honestly, leaning your head against your joined hands for a moment, your breath leaving you in disjointed bursts. Bjorn crouches by the pod, tipping his head forward to lean against yours, his other hand coming up to stroke theough your hair.

"You've gotta lay back, love," he murmurs, eyes shut tight and voice shaky. "C'mon, the next nine years are gonna be gone in the blink of an eye, and we're gonna get to Yvaga and..." he trails off, as the realisation that his plans haven't panned out the way he'd expected. He swallows, hard, pressing a kiss to your head. "We figure out how the fuck to live again, alright? Maybe get drunk, too."

You bark out a little laugh, letting go of his hand and laying back in your pod. "Could use some beer after all of this."

"I have fuckin' incredible ideas, don't I?" he grins, just a little, moving to the end of the pod.

You look at each other for a moment, before you nod. Bjorn presses a few buttons on the screen and with a hiss, your pod starts to close.

His solemn eyes are the last thing you see before sleep claims you.

[ironstrange1991]

Just As Good As I knew It Would Be

Pairing: Defender!Strange x SexWorker!Reader

Synopsis: It was supposed to be just another night with a new client, but Defender Strange was unlike any other and he definitely had other plans.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: Descriptions of sex work, one or two use of the word 'whore', hickeys and lovebites, oral sex with male and female receiving, protected p n v sex.

A/N: This was planned to be a one shot, but I can easily see this story continuing, so it's up to you guys. Also, I was literary falling asleep over my laptop when I posted this so any typos or grammar errors I will fix tomorrow.

When the weight of his body left you and rolled to the side on the bed, you sighed in relief and also turned to the side, taking a cigarette from the package on the bedside table, lighting it and taking a long drag. It was still one o'clock in the morning and you had a client scheduled for 2:30 and before that you needed a long shower to get rid of all the sweat stuck to your skin.

He was a nice guy, plenty of money to spend since he paid for an hour with you almost every week. He was lonely and with the sweat problem you could understand why. You just couldn't remember his name. Andrew? No, Andrew was the one from last night. Nice guy, a little clingy but nice. Would it then be William? Fuck, it didn't matter anyway, you never called them by their names for that very reason.

Madam Elise always said that there was no other way to permanently lose a client than to call them by the wrong name. It's easier to call them all by the same pet name, she always says, and that's what you do. They were all Baby, for you. And they liked it very much.

"I would like you to stay the night with me." He murmured stroking your arm. "I like to think I'm more than just a client to you."

And didn't all of them like to think that way? You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and took another drag from your cigarette.

"You're too good for this job. I can give you the stability you need..."

"Okay, baby, let's get one thing straight once and for all." You interrupted him, putting out your cigarette in the ashtray and getting up. "I'm not interested in a relationship. Certainly not with one of my clients. And I don't need a man to save me from the life I live because, surprise! I like this life.”

He remained silent, watching as you got dressed and when you finished putting on your shoes he stood up, took out his wallet and took out a few hundred bills.

"Baby, I don't deal with money. I thought you had paid at the club."

He nodded "I did. This is extra."

You smirked, taking the money and putting it inside your bag. "You spoil me."

He smiled. "You deserve it, Y/n. When will we see each other again?"

"Madam Elise takes care of my schedule. But from what I know, it's full until next weekend."

He seemed extremely disappointed.

"But I'm sure she can fit you in some night for an extra fee."

"Money is not a problem." He stated cupping your cheek and threatening to kiss you, but you were quick to pull away from him.

"Then I'll see you next week. Take care."

"My driver will take you back to the club." He informed.

"Thanks, baby. Have a good night."

...

Madam Elise was busy taking care of the Absinthe's accounting after the doors closed. It was already past 3am and the girls were leaving. The night had been very profitable, everything had gone normally, without any mishaps and the girls seemed happy.

Throughout her life, Madam Elise worked at night and with her own effort founded the Absinthe Nightclub, which today has the status of the largest and most renowned nightclub in New York City. No less than 25 girls, 12 dancers, 3 singers, and an entire band worked for her, not counting the waiters, bartenders, security guards, secretaries, suppliers and everything else. It was a big business that she commanded with mastery and love.

However, that night, she was tired and could hardly wait to finally leave the place and go home. She was closing the register when Aline, her personal secretary who helps her take care of the girls' schedules, came to her excitedly.

"You won't believe who called asking for Y/n."

"Whoever it is, her schedule is full until the end of next week." Madam Elise answered nonchalantly, but Aline didn't seem any less excited and handed over a sheet of paper with a name and telephone number written on it.

"That's what I told him, but he didn't seem to mind waiting. He asked us to come back with an all-night date."

"A whole night?" Madam Elise asked surprised. "Does he know her price?"

"He mentioned that money is not a problem." Aline responded, smiling as if just talking to the man had already turned her his biggest fan.

"Why Y/n? Did he ask for her specifically or did you recommend her?"

Aline shook her head "He asked for her and only her. It must have been someone else’s recommendation."

"I highly doubt it." That was all Madam Elise responded to Aline's speculation. "Call him tomorrow, schedule him for the night."

Aline looked at her as if she had said the most absurd thing. "Should I reschedule everyone else? They won't be happy."

"No, but they will accept it. Y/n has already captivated them for life. Now a new client like this one..." She stared at the name scribbled on the sheet of paper. "This is a customer we still need to captivate."

Aline nodded, but continued standing there as if she wanted to ask or say something.

"What is it?" Madam Elise asked impatiently.

"Does madam think he will come here?"

"Don't be silly, of course not. A man like him has an image to maintain. She will go to him."

...

When you woke up the next day, the sun was coming in from behind the gaps in the heavy curtains in your room and it was already past 2PM. The routine of sleeping when it was almost dawn and waking up in the middle of the afternoon was the least rewarding part of the job, but it was something you had to get used to.

You had a very chaotic routine, but you couldn't think of another way to live. Your work has provided you with a beautiful apartment and all the luxury you could have dreamed of, and most importantly, freedom.

You didn't depend on anyone but yourself and contrary to what many might think, you didn't feel used. In fact most of the time you felt like a pop star, with men lining up to have a special appointment with you.

After taking a shower and spending a long time on skin care, you went down to have breakfast - which was actually always afternoon coffee - and took the opportunity to take a look at your schedule. There were two new customers you were excited to meet. One of them was a jazz singer, the other was a politician. A deputy, if you weren't mistaken.

"More coffee, ma'am?" Karen, your maid asked gently.

"Yes please."

Karen had been working for you for a little over a year. It was actually Madam Elise's idea for you to have someone to take care of the house and you, but you suspected that Karen also did a second job: spying on you for her. You would be eternally grateful for everything Madam Elise did for you, but sometimes the woman was too controlling and a little scary. Not that you cared, it wasn't like you had anything to hide.

"Karen, remind me again how you met Madame Elise." You asked, still looking through the names on your cell phone’s notepad and taking a bite of your toast.

"It's been so long, dear, I don't even remember exactly, but I think it was a few years a go when I worked at the nightclub" The old woman responded evasively.

"Hmm" You were sure the last time you asked she said they met each other at a job interview and not once she mentioned she worked at the Absinthe.

"Oh, I almost forgot it! Madam Elise called and asked you to call back as soon as you woke up. She said there were changes in your schedule for the night."

"No, come on! I was looking forward to meeting the deputy." You murmured, finishing your coffee and already calling her.

When you arrived at the Absinthe to get ready, it was already past 6PM and you still didn't know who the special client was that made Madam Elise cancel and reschedule everyone else. She refused to speak on the phone and emphasized that you should spend some extra time taking care of yourself because this client deserved the best.

So you took a bubble bath with some special bath salts, were extra careful with your skin care, using your best oils and creams. Your hair, which you had decided to leave loose and straight, you ended up wrapping in curlers and clips so that you could finish it when you arrived at the nightclub, as well as your makeup, which Madam Elise made a point of saying on the phone that she would do herself.

"I don't know why so much suspense." You said as she finished preparing your skin with foundation.

"You'll understand when you get there." She answered.

"How about this one?" Sofia, one of the new girls who worked with you asked, holding a hanger with a very short strapless red dress.

"No. Too much." Madam Elise replied.

"How about this other one?" Sofia asked showing off a long black dress with an extravagant slit.

"Too much, Sofia. What part of elegant and discreet don't you understand?" Madam Elise responded sharply.

"It would help if you say who the client is." Sofia complained.

"That's what I'm trying to find out." You said taking advantage of Sofia's complaint. "Oh, I got it, He is a rockstar, isn’t he? Don't tell me it's Bono!"

Sofia stared at Madam Elise, waiting for an answer.

“It's not Bono. And he's not a rockstar. He's better than that."

"How about this one?" Sofia showed off a rose midi dress that looked like something Kate Middleton would wear to one of her official events.

"Perfect!" Madame Elise exclaimed, finishing applying the third layer of mascara to your eyelashes.

"Please don't say it's the president. He's too old." You whimpered.

"Don't be silly, Y/n." That's all she replied.

"Older men make the best clients." Sofia reflected as she hung the dress on the chair next to you. "They are kind and don't usually last long. Not to mention they pay extras."

"Girl, You're learning fast!" You praised.

"Learning from the best." Sofia said giving you a wink and you two giggled.

"Perfect. Now let's let this hair down." Madam Elise said as she took the clips out of your hair and used a comb to straighten your curls. She finished with a setting spray and only then let you look in the mirror. The whole thing seemed too much to you, but you didnt say anything.

"Now finish getting dressed. A car is waiting for you outside. The driver knows where to drop you off."

"Yes ma'am."

Surprising you, Madam Elise leaned over and gave you a small kiss on the cheek in a rare display of affection.

"Good luck, my darling."

...

When the driver stopped in front of the old building, you couldn't help but think he had gotten the address wrong.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"177A Bleecker Street. That's the exact address Madam Elise gave me. Do you want me to call her to check?"

You shook your head "No. It's okay. Thank you." You said, opening the door and getting out of the car.

"Should I pick you up in an hour?" He asked.

"No. He paid for the night." You informed, closing the door.

You walked up the steps slowly, somewhat intimidated by the oppressiveness of the place and trying to convince yourself that this was really happening, but when you approached the door, it opened on its own and you were overcome with the realization that you were about to spend the night with none other than Defender Strange himself.

As soon as you entered, the door closed behind you and you stood in the empty entrance hall somewhat disconcerted and not knowing what to do next. It took what seemed like an eternity until you were greeted by a baritone voice.

"Hello. I'm sorry, I was sure the woman I talked to this morning told me you would arrive at 9pm" He said going down the stairs and coming towards you. He was dressed exactly as you had seen him on TV or in the newspapers. Black and red robes, boots and hair tied in a ponytail, but gosh, the TV and newspapers didn't do justice to his beauty. Defined jaw, sharp cheekbones, plump lips and beautiful blue eyes. The man was gorgeous.

"I'm sure Madam Elise wouldn't get confused with my schedule. You must have spoken to Aline, her personal secretary." You said, feeling your cheeks turning red from the strange situation and also from the way he glared at you.

"Well, I have no reason to complain if her mistake gave me more time with you." He smirked, extending his hand for you to hold and bringing it to his lips. You knew that if it was any other man doing that you would roll your eyes at how cliché and ridiculous the gesture was, but with him all you could think about was how elegant and gentle he was. He just seemed so calm and kind.

"I'm sure you already know me, but let me formally introduce myself. Doctor Stephen Strange, or how my friends call me, Defender Strange, but you can call me Stephen."

You smiled "It's a pleasure to meet you, Stephen. I'm Y/n, but of course you already know that."

His smile widened "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Y/n." He kept your hand in his. "Come, this is my house." He said gesturing ahead and taking you to the lounge and you found yourself analyzing every detail. The place was beautiful. It definitely wasn't to your taste, but it had a certain charm. Everything looked ancient, from the extravagant chandeliers to the reddish wooden furniture, everything seemed to have been there for many, many years.

"It's very nice." You said, still dazzled by every detail that was visible to you. The place was huge. "Do you live alone here?"

"Yes. I am the master of this Sanctum and therefore I live here. It is old and makes strange noises at night, but you learn to like it over time." He seemed to analyze your expressions carefully.

"But it must be lonely living alone in such a big place." You insisted, still amazed by the size of the place and you had only seen the foyer and the lounge.

Stephen smirked "It's rarely empty and work takes up most of my days, so I don't have time to feel lonely."

"Hmm."

"Please, sit. May I offer you something to drink?"

"Sure." You said, sitting on the beautiful victorian sofa.

"Wine? Maybe something stronger?"

"Wine is great."

He nodded. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a moment."

You did as he asked and as soon as he left, he returned with two glasses and a bottle of red wine which he opened and poured.

"I'm curious" You said, taking the glass he handed to you. "How do you know me? I mean, Madam Elise told me you asked for me specifically."

He smiled and took a long sip of wine.

"It's a long story. The short version is that a friend of mine told me about you."

"Is he a client?"

He chuckled, "I don't really know. I'm just glad he lead me to meet you."

You sipped the wine slowly, savoring the sweet on your tongue as much as you were savoring the enigmatic company of the man in front of you. However he downed the last of his wine and stood up.

"If you allow me, I need to finish a few things before I can dedicate myself entirely to you. Please, make yourself at home. Choose something for us to listen to, if you like music. I have a large collection. I'm sure something will please you."

With that he walked away, disappearing from sight and leaving you alone in the huge lounge.

You did what he suggested. You refilled your glass and ventured into the huge shelf of music in front of you, which to your surprise were not CDs but LPs. You got distracted reading the titles. He had a little bit of everything, from classical to pop music, including R&B and Hip Hop, classic rock and industrial metal and other things you didn't even know.

You opted for Bon Jovi and left it playing at a pleasant ambient volume and distracted yourself by scrolling through your Instagram feed for what seemed like a long time.

When he returned, he was no longer dressed in his sorcerer robes, but rather in dark jeans and a gray shirt. His hair, however, was still tied up in a ponytail and you found yourself thinking that any man in the world would look ridiculous with that hair, but not him.

"Bon Jovi. Good choice."

"A little cheesy, but I like it." You confessed. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who had so much physical music in the days of streaming services."

He chuckled. "Let's just say I'm old-fashioned. I'm not given to technology."

"No, just magic, I presume." You teased, getting up and approaching him, deciding to take the initiative. Men usually liked you to take the initiative, but with him you weren't too sure, but you had already waited too long and to be quite honest, you were eager to finally start the night.

"Are you going to show me some tonight?" You asked in your most seductive voice, and he let you snuggle into his arms and leaned his face against your hand when you touched him and finally, finally, he kissed you. A soft kiss, as if he was tasting a forbidden fruit, but you were eager to deepen the kiss, eager to finally claim him as one of your most valuable conquests.

His lips were thick and soft, his tongue tasted like wine and something else you couldn't identify and the touch of his beard on your face was delicious.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this turned on by a kiss, but you could feel the slick between your legs. However, he pulled away gently when your hands threatened to unbutton his shirt.

"I can show you one or two things, but I'd like us to have dinner first." He said. "We don't need to rush, we have the whole night ahead of us."

But you had no intention of stopping now, not when your lips were finally on his mouth, down his chin and then his neck, nibbling his ear lobe. "I'm not hungry. Not for food at least." You whispered in his ear and watched him swallow thickly, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you away gently.

"I must insist."

You nodded a little confused, but let yourself be pulled into what soon turned out to be the dining room. The table was set and the food smelled wonderful. You hadn't really noticed that you were hungry until now, but it shouldn't have been a surprise since you had barely eaten all day.

He pulled out the chair for you to sit down and confessed. "I bought the food from my favorite Italian restaurant. I hope you don't mind. I would have cooked, but I didn't have time."

But he knew how to cook. Noted.

You smiled reassuringly, "It's great. It's more than I expected to be honest. Men don't usually serve me dinner. It's usually the other way around, you know?" You chuckled.

He poured your glass and his and then sat down too. "Men rarely know how to value what they have."

You felt your cheeks blushing and disguised it by taking a sip of wine.

"Well, they pay two thousand dollars for the hour." You said finally trying the food. "Wow, this is delicious."

He smiled satisfied and only them allowed himself to start eating too. "I'm not talking about money. For me, having the company of a woman, whether I paid for her or not, is always a privilege.

You stared at him and then gave in to your curiosity. "I wonder why a man like you needs to pay for a woman."

He didn't seem surprised or bothered by the question. He chewed slowly and swallowed, wiped his lips on his napkin and took a sip of his wine and then said simply. "I don't have to pay for women. But I had to pay to have the woman I wanted."

You felt your stomach fluttering at those words and something about the way he glanced at you and said it made you blush, and you smiled shyly. "I hope I'm worth it."

...

After dinner you convinced him to take you on a small tour of the house and your admiration for the place only increased with each new room that was presented to you.

"This is the library." He said, opening the two wooden doors and indicating for you to enter. He entered right behind you and waited in silence while you swept the place with your eyes.

 It was ancient and beautiful, like you expected the library of an old castle or something to be like. So many shelves of books that went from floor to ceiling and small ladders supported on the shelves so that people could get books from higher places. There were also small desks scattered around the place and a larger one in the left corner with a large wooden and leather chair. Some books, paper and pen and a pair of reading glasses on top of it.

"It's my second favorite place in the house." He reported proudly, "It's also where I spend most of my time when I'm not on a mission."

You nodded, walking slowly down one of the corridors and trying to read the titles of the books. Most of them were written in other languages. "Which is the first?"

He smiled getting closer and when he spoke again his voice sounded dangerously close to your ear "I'll show you."

You felt your skin prickle and that didn't go unnoticed by him. He held your shoulders and got close enough for you to feel his body pressed against yours. His fingers slowly pulled the strap of your dress and only then did you notice a tremor in his hands, but before you could ask yourself what had happened to them, he started to place little kisses on your shoulder and little by little he raised them to your neck and you completely forgot what you were thinking.

The little kisses went up to your ear and he nibbled your earlobe and exhaled heavily as if he had been holding his breath for a long time and your body trembled with the sensation of his warm breath.

Without holding back, you turned to face him and pulled him into a kiss and your lips collided with a passion that surprised you. His tongue invaded your mouth and dominated yours easily and your fingers were quick to unbutton the buttons of his shirt, while his fingers unzipped your dress and the two of you desperately undressed without your mouths separating for even a second. Suddenly the idea of ​​being apart from him seemed absurd and you were surprised by the overwhelming passion that took over you. It was as if the two of you were live wires that had finally touched and were now joined by an electric current of passion and lust.

When your dress was lying on the floor and your hands managed to free him from his pants and finally free his cock from his boxers, you pumped him a few times reveling in the realization that he was as big as you needed him to be. He rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and indulging in the touch of your hand and you cupped his face and pulled him back to your lips.

"I've waited for this for so long." He rasped in your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You locked your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the largest desk and quickly finished undressing you, but made a point of keeping your high heels on.

He kicked his shoes away and did the same with his pants and boxers, leaving him gloriously naked for you and you watched in fascination as he moved his fingers and a condom materialized in thin air. He opened it quickly with his teeth and put it in with a certain desperation and finally entered you.

You both moaned at the sensation and you held yourself on to the edge of the desk as he thrusted against you with a certain desperation that was surprising and at the same time delicious. The sound of your bodies slamming against each other mixed with your moans and echoed through the empty library.

Your head fell back and he took the opportunity to bury his face between your breasts and took one nipple in his mouth and then another.

"Fuck..." You cursed out and then bit your lips to contain your moans, but they kept escaping as he fucked you so good and with so much passion and you suddenly noticed that you weren't forcing a positive reaction to please him. If anything, you were surprised with yourself, at how he was making you feel.

Your hand grabbed his hair and pulled him back to your lips and he kissed you passionately, thrusting his tongue into your mouth with the same desperation with which he thrusted his cock inside you. Fast, intense and delicious.

He broke the kiss only to run his lips down your neck and pushed you gently so that you lay down on the desk and pulled your hips closer to the edge and with a hand flat on your lower belly he returned to thrust into you and the variation of the position made him hit your g spot with calculous precision and your mouth went agape.

Men didn't usually find your g spot and didn't even bother trying, always desperate to achieve their own pleasure, but he was different, somehow he was different from everyone else.

"Stephen... You're going to make me cum."

You confessed surprise at how the knot seemed to tighten in your stomach. "Do you want me to cum, baby?"

He didn't respond, too involved in his own pleasure, but he put a hand between you touching your clit and rubbing his fingers there in slow circles and that was enough of an answer for you and your body responded to the stimulation quickly pulling you to the edge.

You came hard and he came soon after.

When he finished, he pulled you to meet his lips and something about the sweetness of that kiss made your heart flutter in your chest in a way you hadn't felt in a long time, but you were too caught up in all the sensations to pay attention to what they meant.

It was you who broke the kiss to breathe and he gently pulled out and quickly got rid of the dirty condom with a flick of his fingers and ran his hand through his hair, tucking the strands that came loose from the ponytail behind his ear and then smiled seeming a little embarrassed.

"This wasn't how I imagined." He said and upon noticing how that sentence could be interpreted in a wrong way he ran to explain "I thought I could get to the room. Give you a little comfort at least."

You stood up and approached him, cupping his cheek gently. "Believe me, you gave me something much better." You said letting out a small chuckle and pulling him back to your lips and something between his little moan and how his hand hold you closer to him made you feel like he was melting for you.

"Now will you show me your favorite place in the house?" You asked giving him your cutest smile and he nodded smiling.

"Anything you want."

The two of you got dressed in silence, but the silence wasn't awkward, in fact it was full of smiles and glances, and you found yourself thinking that you didn't remember the last time you felt like that, like you were on a real date rather than being with a client.

Either way, you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, remembering very well Madam Elise's words: No matter how incredible a client is, never forget they are just that: a client. Because they will never forget that you are a whore.

You sighed, letting the silly smile on your lips slowly die.

Stephen led you up the stairs and you walked behind him down a long hallway until you stopped in front of a large door, but before he opened it he turned to you and gently informed, "Many of the artifacts you will see in this room are magical and their value is immeasurable. I must ask you not to touch anything."

"Geez, I'm not that clumsy, Stephen." You defended yourself giving him your best smile.

"Please" He insisted.

"Okay, no touching." You promised, showing your hands to him and holding them behind your back dramatically. He smirked and then nodded opening the door and the two of you slowly entered. He snapped his fingers and the lights came on so you could actually look at the place.

It was a large and spacious room full of pedestals with vases and other objects on top, some were protected by glass, others were not. Everything seemed so old, from the heavy amber curtains and the gold and burgundy carpets to the cabinets and book shelves, the paintings on the walls and the ostentatious chandelier in the center of the ceiling. There was a fireplace surrounded by two loveseats and a fluffy dark brown rug. On the floor, next to the rug, there were some books and a forgotten tea cup.

But all of this was nothing compared to the beautiful round window that gave a beautiful view of Greenwich Village. "Wow, this is beautiful."

You approached the window to take a look outside where cars were rushing past. You had already seen that window from the outside, not to mention they sold postcards of the city with the front of the Sanctum Sanctorum printed on them, but being inside, observing the outside through that window was something else entirely.

"I usually come here when I need to think or just disconnect from my sorcerer problems." He explained, approaching you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. "This window is special, it allows me to see more of what is in front of me."

You raised an eyebrow "Is this some wizard code for something?"

He chuckled in your ear making your body tingle and then pointed to the window "This pattern is the seal of Vishanti, I don't expect you to know what it means, but it is very important and protects the Sanctum from various types of threats."

You nodded, looking at the intricate symbol in the window, but more precisely looking at him, so serious when he was talking about his work and so beautiful with that long hair, the gray strands just made him even more attractive and the beard, those cheekbones and the eyes...

"The window of worlds allows me to see other realities and dimensions. Some are pleasant to look at, benevolent so to speak, so you can easily get lost while watching them, others are dark and frightening, but it is my job to observe them and assure that everything remains in its natural state, without interference in our real world."

You smiled shyly admitting, "It's hard to combine the things you're explaining with the term real world. I live in the real world, this is… something else."

He let out a small laugh and then buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply, "You weren't real to me until tonight."

You turned to look at him "You talk about me like you know me."

He sighed, closing his eyes when your hand cupped his cheek, but before you could ask anything he pulled you to his lips and you felt your entire body shaking with that kiss, your heart pounding in your head as you gave in to the certainty that there was more than just sex involved tonight, even though you knew it was crazy, you couldn't help but feel that way. He was different, special and it wasn't because of who he was or the things he could do - magically speaking - but rather because of the way he could turn you into a puddle of goo with a look, a smile, a touch of his trembling hands and that kiss.

He was the one who broke the kiss first and before he could pull away, you pulled him to your lips again kissing him one more time. He smiled satisfied pulling away, but made sure to keep holding your hand and gently directed you to the rug next to the fireplace.

You watched him get rid of his shoes and did the same, letting your sore feet be caressed by the softness of the rug.

"I usually meditate here." He said, picking up the cup from the floor and disposing of it with a movement of his hand. "And I read. It helps keep me grounded. It's where I can have privacy, besides my room, of course."

You nodded, sitting on the carpet and reaching out to pick up one of the books, but he quickly took them out of your reach and returned them to the bookshelf.

"I'm surprised I can touch you, since everything here is sacred." You teased watching as he sat next to you, his hands automatically pulled you close and his fingers played with the strap of your dress pulling it down and placing little kisses on your shoulder. With his other hand he started to unzip your dress on your back and you felt your skin prickling.

"I am not sacred." He explained, searching for your lips and kissing you hungrily "Actually, I'm very human..." He continued kissing you, but his hands helped you get rid of the straps of your dress, letting it fall to your waist and undressing your breasts to him as he held one of them in his hand, pinching a nipple "...with human needs that I want you to satisfy."

You intertwined your fingers in his hair when his lips went down to your neck and he began to suck on your throat. He stopped and admired his work and then continued making sure the mark stayed.

"Y-you... can't..." You tried to warn him in vain when you finally noticed what he was doing, but he covered your lips with his index finger and continued until he was satisfied.

"What can't I do?" He asked with a cute smirk on his lips once he was satisfied with his work.

You swallow thickly feeling drunk, even though all you had drank that night was three glasses of wine.

"Mark me." You finally managed to say and his smirk turned into a grin.

"Too late for that, baby. Skin is very nice and soft, can't help it." And as if to prove what he was saying, he lightly bit the spot just below your ear and then sucked on the skin, eliciting a moan from your lips.

You couldn't tell what he had, but he managed to mess with you in a way that you couldn't understand, you could either think straight or formulate a coherent sentence while he had his lips on you. He made you melt, all your self-confidence and control seemed to melt before him.

"What's going on inside this pretty head of yours?" He asked, biting your chin and sticking his tongue in your mouth in another breathtaking kiss.

You hummed into his lips and tried to formulate a response when he finally broke the kiss.

"You. Right now, there is only you."

He smiled proudly, "Yeah? But there's another place I'd rather be at the moment."

You bit your bottom lip and waited for him to tell you.

"With my face between your legs." He rasped in your ear "Would you like that?"

God yes, please. But you just nodded letting yourself be manhandled as he laid you down on the fluffy rug and finished taking off your dress and panties. Your legs hung to the sides and he didn't wait to dive between them, lapping his tongue into your folds to make you even wetter than you already were.

He used his fingers to open your folds and licked your clit lightly with the tip of his tongue making your entire body tremble, your hands searched for something to grab and stopped in his hair, grabbing his ponytail, but you policed ​​yourself to don't pull.

"Oh fuck... oh yes, yes..."

He hummed approvingly at your reaction and the vibration made your body shake. Without waiting any longer, he took your clit between his lips and began to suck slowly and then increasing the pressure and you saw stars.

You loved oral sex, but the men you had sex with never cared enough to waste time pleasuring you like this, after all they were paying a lot of money, it was understandable they preferred to receive rather than give, but Defender Strange was different from all of your other clients, he was actually taking pleasure in giving pleasure to you and he was wonderful. You couldn't remember the last time you had your clit sucked with such dexterity, if anyone had ever managed to reach that level of excellence, that is, and your clit suckers could only do so much and were nothing compared to the real thing and Stephen, oh god, Stephen was even better than the real thing. He was perfect.

You could feel the knot inside you threatening to break, your legs shaking under the grip of his hands and the next thing you knew you were tugging at his hair, the hair tie came loose in your hand and you finished getting rid of it letting his soft locks fall like a curtain of dark brown and gray.

Of course he could feel you were close, your body was shaking, your breathing was faster, your wet, neglected hole was clenching around nothing and your moans were getting louder and louder, but then he stopped, brought his hand down to his hair moving them away from his face and stared at you with those blue eyes and a satisfied smile on his lips that somehow took your breath away.

"Please... don't..." You could barely speak.

"I don't want you to cum yet." He confessed and then crawled on top of you "You're so delicious, you know that, right?"

You pulled him to your lips instead of responding. The taste of your cunt in his mouth was so obscene and so delicious that you couldn't control a moan. He chuckled between your lips letting you control the kiss for the first time that night. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you couldn't resist, you pulled just a little to see his reaction and to your surprise and delight he moaned, a loud and unmistakable moan.

When your lips parted, he glanced at you and you took the opportunity to caress his face, tracing the outline of his beard with your finger.

"You're so beautiful." You confessed "You're even more beautiful in person than on TV."

He let out a little giggle and you could see a light shade of pink fill his cheeks and you thought it was adorable.

He kissed your lips softly and held your chin between his thumb and forefinger "You're beautiful. You have the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen and your smile... it does things to me."

You smiled shyly with the way he was glancing at you and then watched as he seemed to go somewhere else in his mind for a second but soon after he smiled back. "Where have you been all this time?" He asked.

You weren't sure what to say, so you just pulled him to your lips again and kissed him, feeling a strange sensation in your stomach. His lips moved down your chin and he touched your lips with his thumb, gently forcing them apart. You took his digit in your mouth and sucked on it, teasing him to which he smirked.

"I want your mouth now." He asked, taking his finger out of your mouth and replacing it with his tongue and kissed you hard.

You cupped his cheek and asked, "Tell me how you like it."

There were many things you could do with a man's cock in your mouth and you mastered that art masterfully, but with him you were insecure, you couldn't read him and while that was frustrating, it was also what made it all the most exciting.

"Do you ask this of all your clients?" He asked, looking genuinely curious.

You shook your head "No. Usually I know what they like right away, but you... you're different."

He seemed to like your answer. He rolled onto his side and lay on his back on the carpet. "You can start by undressing me and then you can take good care of me."

You sat down next to him and let your fingers run down his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"Do you like being taken care of?" You checked.

"Very much."

You unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the fabric aside and placing kisses on his chest, lowered your hand to his belt and bit your lip, noticing his hard on contained inside his pants. It twitched with the lightest of touches from your fingers and you couldn't help the proud smile on your lips. You moved to straddle his legs and unbuckled his belt and pants and with both hands you pulled down his pants and boxers, moving to take them off completely and throwing them in a pile on the floor.

You went back to straddling his legs and finally laid your eyes on his cock. You had felt him in your hands and felt him impaling you, but it was the first time you were looking directly at him and god, it was beautiful. The curvature that let it lean towards his stomach and the veins bulging around it combined with the fat, pink head made your mouth water. He was pulsing and leaking from the head and without holding back you bent down and licked the slit to collect the precum and it tasted so good. Salt and sweet at the same time.

"I can take care of you." You purred. "Just tell me exactly how you like it."

He bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan when you finally took him in your hand, holding him tight.

"Slowly. There's no need to gag on it, just take as much as you can. And I will love if you suck my balls, lightly, I'm very sensitive there."

You listened carefully. All you wanted was to please him.

"Can I make you cum in my mouth?"

"Fuck, yes" He replied and his cock twitched in your hand.

"But there will be another round for me, right?" You confirmed, smiling mischievously.

"As many as you want." He promised.

Your mouth was salivating to have him, but you started slowly, just giving little cat licks on the head and running your tongue down his entire length while your eyes remained fixed on his. If there was one thing that was certain about all men, it's that they love it when you suck their dicks while looking at them with big dull eyes. Defender Strange was no exception. He bit his lip to try to suppress a groan and his hands grabbed the fur on the rug.

You contained a giggle watching his reaction and continued with your work, lowering your tongue to the base and then taking one of his heavy balls in your mouth. You sucked slowly and then took the other one and repeated the same process while your hand moved up and down, slowly pumping him.

"Oh fuck, it's so good." He praised you and you felt that strange feeling in your stomach again, quickly realizing that you liked hearing him praising you and trying your best to have more of that.

You moved your lips up, placing small wet kisses along his entire length and stopped at his frenulum, licking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. For most men, the frenulum was the most sensitive part of their cocks and gave them the most pleasure when stimulated, however it used to be neglected most of the time by women, but you weren't like all women, you knew how to pleasure a man and there was nothing you wanted more than to pleasure Stephen. Not only that, you wanted to be the best he ever had.

You alternated the licks with light sucks on the delicate area and he began to writhe beneath you, moans began to escape his lips and you noticed how his baritone was even sexier in that context.

"Oh, right there, f-feels so good. J-just keep doing what you're doing with your tongue." He asked and you hummed satisfied, flicking your tongue in his frenulum and with one of your hands you began to massage his balls, giving them a light squeeze. With the other hand you continued pumping him at the base and he started to pulse in your hand and you knew that if you didn't reduce the stimulation he would cum before you even put him in your mouth, but you didn't care, you wanted to see him cumming like that, you wanted to prove to him that you were that good, so you increased the stimulation on his frenulum, changing the light licks for a more efficient suction while still using your tongue, but now not quickly, but like a kiss, slowly and with more passion.

"You're going to make me cum if you keep this up." He rasped bringing his hands to your head, but he didn't push or pull, he just grabbed your hair in a ponytail to move it away from your face and allow him to have a good view of what you were doing. Men were visual creatures.

"Do you want me to stop?" You asked, stopping to make sure, but he shook his head vehemently.

"Please, don't stop. Just keep working your tongue like that."

You did as he asked, but stopped pumping him and let his cock fall heavily onto his stomach, using only your mouth to stimulate him and your hand on his balls.

You licked, sucked, kissed his frenulum and started all over again until his grip on your hair got stronger, pulling at the roots and with a loud moan he came on his stomach.

"F-fuck yes. Oh shit... oh baby..."

You couldn't contain the smile on your lips when you saw him in that state, you were so proud of yourself, and you hadn’t even put him in your mouth. The man was so sensitive to touch, you wanted to ravish him so much.

You crawled on top of him and he cupped your cheek, still panting, but there was a wide smile on his lips.

"How did you do that?"

"I barely did anything. You are very sensitive."

He smirked, "Or maybe you're just too good with that tongue. No woman has ever made me cum like this." He confessed.

You felt your cheeks blushing and that was also an effect of him over you. You weren't shy, but when he looked at you like that and talked to you like that you felt yourself melting. Instead of saying anything, you kissed him softly, but then went down your lips to his neck, licking, biting, sucking on his pulse point and continued moving your lips down to his chest, taking one of his nipples in your mouth and sucking and pinching the other. He moaned softly and you felt him twitching in your stomach, his cum running down his sides, making your skin and his stick together and making a mess, but you couldn't care less.

He was soft now, but not completely and as soon as the stimulation on his nipples intensified he began to harden again for you. The man had a lot of stamina and you could only be grateful for that because you couldn’t wait to have him inside you again.

"R-ride me." His voice sounded shaky above your head. You brushed your hair away from your face to look at him and he cupped your face with both hands "Ride me, baby. Use me. Wanna see you getting off on my cock." He asked and you felt your heart pounding on your chest. You nodded and kissed him.

"Condom?" You asked, trying hard to reason. He moved his fingers and a condom materialized between his index finger and his middle finger and he handed it to you. With another movement of his fingers his shirt disappeared, and he was completely bare for you.

Opening the package, you took his lips in a hungry kiss and your hands went down to meet his cock, pumping him slowly, but with a firm grip on your hands, making him moan on your lips.

You dedicated yourself to putting the condom on him, but first you bent down to put him whole in your mouth. His hands automatically grabbed your hair as he hardened until it was rock hard in your mouth as you bobbed your head on his length, finally giving him the oral he deserved.

"S-such a delicious mouth. So f-fucking perfect... I knew you'd be so fucking good to me..."

You couldn't shake the thought that he spoke to you as if he knew you and that it wasn't just because a friend had recommended you to him, it seemed to be something more, but at the same time you also knew that something in him was awakening a different type of attraction and that you were probably only seeing things where nothing existed because you were too involved, so you tried hard to push away those thoughts and dedicated yourself to giving him the best blowjob, using your tongue the entire time, swirling it along his entire length while taking turns going up and down and using a little suction on his head. You knew it was going well because he continued praising you between moans that grew louder and louder, however he held your chin and gently took his cock out of your mouth.

"As incredible as this is, I really want to cum with my cock inside you this time." He explained. "And not before you."

You smiled nodding and finally – reluctantly - put on the condom. Part of you wanted to fuck him raw, but in your profession, that was never an option.

Moving to straddle him, you directed his cock at your entrance which was dripping wet and let yourself sink into him feeling him stretch you deliciously.

You had seen dicks of all sizes and learned to get the best out of each one, but you couldn't be a hypocrite or lie and say that size doesn't matter. Yes, it matters a lot, and you were so grateful that Defender Strange was this big, providing you with the perfect amount of stretch and with that perfect curvature that found your g spot with surprising ease. All you had to do was lean forward a little, resting both hands on his chest and that was it.

"Oh y-yes baby... right there."

Stephen groaned in satisfaction, both of his hands grabbed and squeezed the fat of your waist, his eyes fixed on yours the entire time.

"Hit that sweet special spot uh? I can feel it. Feels so good, so fucking warm and wet... shit... squeezing me so tight."

You bit your lip, moving your hips up and down, turning it sensually every time you went down, letting his pelvic bone and hair massage your clit, providing shocks of pleasure that felt like electric currents running through your entire body.

"I love seeing you riding me like this, so fucking gorgeous" He purred "Come on, baby, need more, fuck me harder."

You increased the pace until you were both panting, the sensuality giving way to the tireless search for your release that you knew wasn't too far away. You couldn't help it, he was so perfect, everything about him exuded sex, the looks, the moans, the dirty words of submission taking you to the limit and at the same time making you hold on to the edge because you didn't want it to end, you wanted to let that continue forever.

However, he seemed to understand that you were stalling because he wrapped his arm around your waist and sat down leaving the two of you in a lotus position and began to move you faster on top of him, thrusting his hips against you to increase the intensity of the thrusts.

Getting carried away by all the sensations and feeling the knot threatening to break, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and grabbed a handful of his hair tugging at it with more force than you should have while the movements of your hips on top of him became faster and more desperate.

"Do it again." He urged in your ear, his baritone little more than a whisper.

You pulled his hair again, even harder this time and his head fell back and you felt his cock throb inside you. A part of you loved that and without him asking you did it again and again and took advantage of the fact that his neck was on display for you and started sucking it hard, biting it and sucking again until it left a purple mark. Satisfied, you grabbed his chin and pulled him to your lips, sticking your tongue in his mouth and being surprised by the way he let himself be dominated and when he let out a sweet moan in your mouth and his dick throbbed again Inside you, you knew he had reached his limit.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, feeling the wave of pleasure and euphoria wash over you as the knot broke and you came hard on his cock and with a loud, animalistic groan he came soon after, his cock pulsing and spilling into the condom. God, how you wish it were your walls that he was painting white.

That thought alone should have been enough for you to question your sudden involvement with that man, but at that moment you didn't want to reason, you just wanted to feel.

...

You were still lying on the rug, staring at the ceiling in silence and immersed in your own thoughts. Although your head was still spinning, your breathing had finally returned to normal, and the reason seemed to be coming back to you because you were suddenly too self-aware of everything that had happened that night.

Stephen had left you for a few minutes and you could hear him cleaning himself in the bathroom. You should also get up and get dressed, but your legs felt like jelly and you couldn't find the will within you to do so.

When he came back and laid back down next to you he was dressed in gray sweatpants and his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail.

"Don't you think sex is a weird thing?" You said, verbalizing the confused thoughts in your head. "I mean, you say things you would never say if you weren't aroused, you do things you can't imagine doing under any other circumstances."

He smiled thinking for a second. "I think it's called intimacy."

"Yes and no. Personally, I think intimacy is different. It's when you feel free to continue talking after sex is over and how you feel about it."

"Like now?" He asked.

You didn't respond, instead you sat down and faced the fireplace.

"I have a list of things I don't do or don't let people do to me." You admitted it.

"What for example?"

"Hickeys" You replied holding back a smile "As you can imagine it's not smart of me to arrive at the appointment with my client marked by the previous client."

"And why do I think you weren't reluctant enough when you realized what I was doing?"

"Because I wasn't." You sighed. "I also don't usually kiss my clients. I mean, it's not a rule, but I avoid it if possible. It makes me uncomfortable."

He sat down, seeming to watch you closely, but didn't say anything.

"Talking about personal things, like I'm doing now, is also on my list." You hugged your legs and rested your chin on your knee giving him an apologetic smile. "You left me disconcerted."

He smiled touching your knee and with his other hand he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and then caressed your cheek.

"I'm not usually like this with other women. Although I enjoy it, I rarely let myself be in a position where I'm not in control. I think it's safe to say that we both did things tonight that we don't usually do, and I don't know about you, but I really liked it and I really hope you liked it."

You sighed, feeling that strange feeling in your stomach again. "That's the problem, Stephen. You shouldn't care what I like or don't like."

"But I care." He replied chuckling dryly. "Is it really that bad that I care?"

You shook your head trying to think straight. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have started this conversation."

"You can tell me whatever you want." He said moving to kiss you, but then stopped and decided to confirm, "Is it okay to keep kissing you?"

"I don't know." You admitted with a sigh, but surrendered and threw yourself into his arms anyway.

He let out a small giggle when your lips collided, but then he took control of the kiss, kissing you like that was the only thing that mattered to him and god, he was such a good kisser. One of the reasons you hated kissing your clients was because they were terrible kissers and also because you thought it was too intimate. But with Defender Strange neither of those things applied.

When he finally got tired of your lips, he stood up and held out his hand for you to do the same. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[sanemisstalker]

Idk why but like I really wanna die in somebody’s arms- it’s like such a beautiful but sad way to die?

(**kny spoilers**)

kinda like how Mitsuri died in Obanai’s arms bc that was such a heartbreaking moment but it also was kinda sweet at the same time? Idek anymore 😭 ty for your time btw <3

Broooo-

I hate to be that guy and point to your username, but I think dying in Giyu's arms would be the worst emotionally. I think it'd be actually devastating.

CW// Death / Implied Major Character Death/ Implied Suicide/ Angst

A part of me reasons that Sanemi could handle it about as well as he handles anything else. Poorly, but he'd continue like he always does. That's all he can do because he thinks anything else is a show of extreme cowardice and he doesn't deserve to feel that way.

But when you're in his arms, dying, more color is dissapearing, and he's fighting to see your face past the tears- he's wailing and screaming, and trying to command you to come back. That normally works. Maybe he's gotten scary enough to scare death, but no. He'll never be enough to fend off the inevitable.

I don't think Shinobu would be much different. She has an astonishing amount of hate in her heart. Enough to patch up the wound long enough for her to pretend it isn't there anymore.

You'd be lying in her arms, and all of it would be beating against her head. Every word you ever said, every piece of medical knowledge she had, and for her to be the only one able to know just how incapable she was of saving you- She'd start begging a higher power, probably, begging you to be strong in her stead- save yourself because she's not strong enough.

Rengoku wouldn't cry until you fully slipped away, doing all he could to muster his voice flat- you needed comfort, obviously. He knew it wouldn't heal the wounds, nothing could, but he was still denying that to keep his smile wide.

You wouldn't be in his arms but on his lap, his hand sweeping hair from your fading eyes. I think He'd sit there for a while. For too long, just trying to prevent tears, because you wouldn't make a move to wipe them.

Tengen would hurt, bad. You're in his arms, and he's rocking you, and he's having a panic attack- He'd deny it the hardest. For the longest.

There's a notable difference, Tengen understood, between the weight of a breathing person, and a dead body. He knew that difference the second you slumped against his shoulder, and his knees hit the ground. He'd try to wake you up, tell you to stop the act, it isn't funny, because God, what else could he do but joke in a half witted prayer to hear your laugh.

Giyu....

Fuck me , man. I don't think he's emotionally strong enough to handle anymore loss. He's already disliked by his peers, by himself, god, and everyone who breathed. You were the only person willing to talk with him- to waste time on him. To love him.

The imagery for this one is vivid- the rain. Ironic. Even in his own element he couldn't save you. He's hunched over you and mimics your shallow breathes, protecting your face from the down pour.

You can't get the words out to say how much you really, deeply love him. He keeps shushing you, trying to conserve your energy- He's panicking, too, hands unsure of their need. There were so many wounds, he couldn't possibly tend to them all.

The poor boy would whisper a beg- to let him go in your stead. He couldn't be left alone to survive again. Not again. He had too many lives he was carrying on his shoulders. Too many souls he was responsible for reaching heaven with, and he was never that good a man.

He's not asking God, he's asking you. And how cruel you were to not let him die.

'I can't- Y/N, I can't do this again.' He'd sound close to vomiting. A certain animalistic sound to his voice. Guttural, almost. 'You-You-God- no-no-n-'

But you'd be gone, unable and unwillingly to give him to permission he so desperately needed. Not deserved, He'd remind himself.

He'd all but rot next to you. The second your last breathe loosed, he'd stop breathing, too. Days would go by. Unmoving. Unfeeling.

I truly believe he'd die with you that day.

[bamber344]

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

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masterlist

heyo! this chapter is a fucking MONSTER. biggest one yet. but that's what i get for trying to condense a character's entire backstory into one chapter lol. I'm sure you can guess who's backstory it is ;P

Enjoy!

CWs: living weapon whump, minor whump, whipping, electrocution, stress positions, non-con body modification, lab whump, starvation, controlling whumper, vomit, various other bodily fluids

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

Maggie sighed, sinking further against the cushions as Diego’s hand massaged preen oil through the feathers on her back and wings, straightening them out and cleaning any debris out of them. After having to suffer through trying to do it herself with her limited human flexibility for the first nine months of her life, having someone else to help her with preening was something she would truly never take for granted. It wasn’t just her wings she had to worry about; the feathers trailed all the way down her spine, coalescing in a small, useless tail at her coccyx. Basically, it was a whole lot of work. At least she was blessed with a preen gland, producing her own preen oil and saving her the struggle of having to find another way to maintain her feathers’ quality, despite the fact that other people tended to find it…offputting. 

Well, Andreas was an asshole anyway, so what did she care about his opinion? Diego didn’t mind, and Hex never knew anything different. They were the only ones that mattered.

Maggie heard the door to Hex’s room open, and she plodded over to them, taking a seat on the couch near Maggie’s feet.

“Hey Diego?” she asked. “Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“That depends,” he hummed. The sound instinctively made Maggie relax. “Have you finished your studies for this week yet?”

Despite the fact that she was out of Maggie’s line of sight, she could almost feel Hex’s pout. “Maggie didn’t finish hers last week, but you still bought her chinese food when she asked!”

“Hey, I’ve been busy working at the construction site, making money so we can eat! I don’t always have time to read books,” Maggie complained. “Also, Diego loves me.”

“Actually, last week you skipped out on studying to try and go after Jordyn again, and she kicked your butt so bad she broke three of your ribs.”

“‘Scuse you! I kicked her butt! You weren’t there, you didn’t see!”

“I’ve gotta give that one to Hex, babe,” Diego said. “I did tell you not to go.”

“Whatever. Either way, I sorted it. She won’t be coming after us.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point,” Hex said. “The point being: is McDonalds on the table tonight?”

“...Actually, I could go for some McDonalds right now, too,” Maggie muttered.

Diego laughed. “Fine. But that’s the last time I’m ordering takeout for the rest of the month!”

Hex protested, and Maggie smiled as the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend continued on above her. A comforting warmth settled in her belly; pride and happiness in herself for succeeding in giving her little sister at least some semblance of a normal childhood. It wasn’t perfect by any means – it couldn’t be, what with the memories of the things they suffered in the facility still plaguing them every day – but like this, Hex at least got a chance. She got to bicker with her sister without getting beaten for it, got to skip out on her studies to play video games like a normal kid. Granted, Maggie herself was still learning just what ‘normal’ was. Despite the difference between their physical ages, she was only four months older than Hex, technically speaking. Having Diego around was certainly helpful, though. Without his help, the two of them would probably still be the naive, bumbling idiots they’d been the day they broke out of the facility.

Maggie closed her eyes, relaxing into the couch and reminiscing on how she got to where she was today.

—

5 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie sat on the end of her bed, shivering. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold, not with her wings wrapped around herself protectively like they were. There was nothing to be scared of in the immediate vicinity. And yet, this horrible, pervasive anxiety just wouldn’t leave her alone.

It had been there since this afternoon, when Father screamed at and hit her for flying over the obstacle course instead of running through it. She didn’t understand why it mattered if she could run well when she had a perfectly good pair of wings on her back to help her fly. It was stupid. Father was stupid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

As far back as she could remember, Father had been there, helping her recover after waking up from her supposed ‘accident.’ He was trying to help her become a superhero again, or so he said. Magpie just wasn’t sure that she believed it. If he was trying to help her, why would he turn around and hurt her in the same breath? Why did he want so much control over her, to the point where he refused to let her leave the facility, no matter how much she begged? It just didn’t sit right.

Really though, what was she supposed to do? Her memories were completely gone. She had no knowledge of who she used to be, or how the world worked. She had no choice but to just stick with Father until she learned more. Then, she would make a decision on whether or not to trust him.

She occupied herself by running her fingers through the feathers of her wings, straightening them out. Their softness was reassuring, but it did little to settle the quiver of unease that had sunken all the way down into her bones. 

The door opened, and Father walked in. Magpie instinctively hopped off of her bed, ready to defend herself. 

He studied her, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. “Come in, Hex.”

Someone entered the room behind him. Magpie gasped.

The girl was a lot younger than her, shyly hiding behind Father’s leg. Her short-cropped hair was black, just like Magpie’s, and she shared her tan skin. In fact, the girl was practically identical to her aside from her age and the lack of wings on her back. Who the hell was she?!

Father turned to the young girl. “This is the older sister I was telling you about. Her name is Magpie. You’re going to be staying with her from now on, okay?”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Magpie asked.

Father sighed again. “I’m truly sorry, I should have told you this earlier. Hex here is your younger sister. She was injured in the same accident as you, and only woke up a month ago. Since then, she’s been going through the same rehabilitation program that you did, and is finally well enough to join you properly.”

Magpie had absolutely no memory of a younger sister, but… what else could this girl possibly be? She looked exactly like her. It wasn’t like she had memories of anything else either, to be fair, and from the look on her face, Hex was thinking a similar line of thought.

Father placed a hand on Hex’s back and pushed her further into the room. A spark of protectiveness instinctively rose in Magpie’s chest.

“Get to know each other. Another bed will be brought in shortly.”

With that, Father left. Magpie and Hex stared at each other.

“I didn’t know I had a big sister,” Hex said. Her eyes kept flickering to Magpie’s wings. Magpie smirked.

“Well, I didn’t know I had a little sister, either.” She sat back down on the bed, motioning for Hex to join her. “You don’t remember anything either, huh?”

Hex shook her head, tentatively climbing up next to Magpie. 

“Even if I have no memories of you, it’s nice to finally not be alone. No one else… gets how hard it is, not knowing anything. Y’know?”

Hex hummed in agreement, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Can I… Um… Can I touch your wings?”

Magpie chuckled. “Sure. But be gentle.”

Hex reached out, carefully running her fingers along the feathers. Magpie tried not to shiver. The touch was gentler than anything she’d ever felt from another person before, and honestly, it was starting to get her a little choked up, especially with the cute little smile on Hex’s face as she did it.

There was something on the back of her neck. Magpie frowned.

“Hey, let me see the back of your neck?”

“Hm? Okay.”

Hex shifted a little to allow access. Sure enough, there it was. Starting just below her hairline, there were a bunch of lines making up a weird rectangle, and below that, there was writing.

G-6: ‘HEX’

PROPERTY OF PRECINCT 23

That same old dread settled into Magpie’s gut. Something just wasn’t right. Hex seemed oblivious to it, but somehow Magpie knew. Was she even really her little sister? Or was this just another lie from their ‘Father’?

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Little sister or not, Magpie had to protect her. They were in this situation together, and she wouldn’t let that old man hurt her like he had hurt Magpie. She swore it.

—

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie rolled her shoulders as she walked down the corridor, having finished her combat training for the day. Anxiety broiled in her gut for her upcoming exam tomorrow. It wasn’t that she was scared she would fail – there wasn’t even a chance of that. It was more a general excitement at the prospect of finally being allowed to go outside.

The past few months had been difficult, full of harsh training and harsher punishments, but as soon as Father gave her free access to the outside world, Magpie was gonna grab Hex and make a run for it. Their freedom from this underground hellhole was so close, she could almost taste it.

The thought of Hex made her sigh. The girl was struggling under Father’s ‘tutelage.’ She didn’t have the same distrust of him that Magpie did. She hung on his every word, followed every order to the letter, and the slightest hint of a smile from him was enough to have her practically melting. And yet, her young body just couldn’t live up to the demands being placed on her. He was being a lot gentler with her than he had been with Magpie, but she didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be long until his limited patience ran out.

Honestly, what was he expecting? Magpie was a full-grown woman of 25, but Hex was barely even a teenager! Of course she couldn’t complete all of these crazy, dangerous obstacle courses. If not for her telekinesis power allowing her to block the knives and poles being swung at her, she’d probably already be dead! Magpie herself had had way too many close calls on that course for comfort, and she could literally fly over it if she wanted.

The thought angered her, but she buried it down. Just one more day. One more day, and they could get out of here for good. 

Speaking of Hex’s training, Magpie was pretty sure it was still going on for today. She figured she might as well go and see how her little sister was going before heading back to their room.

A shrill scream and a loud crack echoed through the hallways. Magpie’s heart leapt into her throat. She started running.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d threatened Magpie with it a few times, and only backed down on account of not wanting to damage her wings. Hex didn’t have that protection. But, still. He wouldn’t do that to her, right?

The cracking and shrieking continued, and it became clearer and clearer that, apparently, he would. Magpie was going to kill him.

The sight she saw through the window when she got to Hex’s training course didn’t betray her expectations. 

Hex, shirtless and on her knees. Father standing behind her, whip in hand. A dozen red, bleeding lines criss-crossing Hex’s back as her entire body quaked.

A rage the likes of which she’d never felt before burned in Magpie’s gut. She rushed over to the door, dismayed to find that it was locked.

Fine. It wouldn’t stop her.

She threw her fist against the metal, denting it. A grim satisfaction settled inside of her. Nothing could protect Father from her wrath now.

She punched the edge of the door over and over again, until there was enough space for her to get her fingers in between it and the frame. Ensuring that her grip was sound, she heaved, contracting every fibre of muscle in her arms and literally ripping the sliding metal door out of the wall. Inside, Hex was curled up on the floor, and Father was staring at Magpie like she was the consequences of his actions made manifest. He was scared.

Good.

With a flap of her wings, Magpie was flying towards him, ready to rip him apart. 

Her fist sunk into his side with the force of a wrecking ball, and she felt his ribs crack under her knuckles. The hit sent him flying, slamming into the far wall like a sack of bricks.

Magpie landed on her feet, planting herself between Father and Hex. He wouldn’t hurt them anymore.

Father coughed and gasped, spitting up blood as he tried and failed to get to his feet. “Wh… what… Wh-what’s the meaning of this?! How dare you raise a hand against me!”

“You stay away from us!” Magpie yelled. “Come near Hex again, and I’ll kill you!”

Father finally managed to drag himself up, clutching his side. He scowled. “You’ve always been a precocious one, Five. I see I’ve been far too gentle with you. It’s fine, you’ll learn obedience in time. Here’s your first lesson!”

He threw his hand up and Magpie screamed, suddenly overcome with an impossible pain coursing throughout her entire body, pinpointed in the back of her neck. She collapsed as her knees gave out, writhing on the ground in unknowable agony. Darkness flashed across her vision. She heaved, her body curling in on itself and forcing her lunch back out of her mouth. This was it. She was going to die. Her body couldn’t take it. Hex was going to be all alone with that monster, and there was nothing she could do.

With that one last thought, everything went black and Magpie died.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

If only she’d actually died back then. It would have been a mercy. If she’d died, she wouldn’t be stuck on her knees, with her arms wrenched and twisted behind her back, chained to the wall tight enough that she couldn’t move at all without searing pain. If she’d died, she wouldn’t have been stuck in this exact position for an unknowable amount of time, muscles burning constantly, stomach aching with hunger, thirst quenched by only the most meagre amount of water that would keep her alive, soiling herself over and over with no way to stop it. Passing out was her only consolation, but even then, she never stayed asleep for long. It was stupid of her to think she’d had it bad before. This was true hell.

Magpie closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She couldn’t afford to waste hydration like that. Her only hope was that Hex had been spared. She would put up with this forever if it meant that her little sister was safe.

The door opened, bright light spilling out from the hallway and blinding Magpie after so many hours in the dark. It was probably Father, come to torment her again. She braced herself for another verbal lashing or boot to the jaw.

“Maggie?”

If Magpie had the energy to, she would have gasped.

“H… H-Hex…? Is… Is that… you?” she rasped out.

The figure haloed in light stepped closer. Sure enough, it was Hex, her little sister, looking down at her in horror.

“Oh god, Maggie. Did… Did Father do this to you?”

“What are you doing here?” Magpie croaked, ignoring the question. “If Father finds you, he’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s not here right now. He and a bunch of the scientists left. I’m gonna save you, okay?”

The thought made a lump rise in Magpie’s throat. Her bottom lip quivered. “H- Hex…”

The young girl wasted no more time, rushing to the shackles binding Magpie’s arms and legs. They came undone all at once and she collapsed to the floor, relief flooding her tattered muscles. Magpie couldn’t help it; she started sobbing.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” Hex said, kneeling at her side and gently massaging the base of her wings. “It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna get out of here tonight, just like you talked about.”

“I’m sorry… I c-couldn’t protect you… I’m so sorry, Hex.”

Hex’s voice cracked. “It- it’s alright. It’s not your fault, Maggie.”

Magpie let out a sigh, her body deflating. “I like it when you call me that. B-better than Magpie.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay?”

Maggie nodded. She sniffled, summing up the energy to speak. “How much time do we have?”

“A little. The hallways are pretty empty right now, so I should be able to get us back to our room without any trouble. We’ll have a bit of time to prepare, but then we have to move. Do… Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to fight?”

“I will be,” Maggie said. “No matter what, I will be. I’ll always fight for you, Hex.”

“Not alone, you won’t. I’ll fight, too. Like you said, we’re in this together. To the end.”

“To the end.”

—

Maggie laid in bed, enjoying her last few moments of rest before everything went down. Hex ended up carrying her down the hallway with telekinesis, and thankfully they didn’t run into anyone on the way. She’d had a shower – or, more accurately, Hex had showered her – gotten a change of clothes, and was now ready to fight for their freedom.

Okay, maybe ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration for her current state. Shakily hobble toward their freedom, more like.

As much as she didn’t want to move at all for the next month, the promise of the outside world was invigorating, and it gave her the strength to sit up.

“Feeling okay to go?” Hex asked.

Maggie sucked in a breath to steel herself and nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk too fast on my own, but together, we should be able to make it.”

Hex nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Maggie dragged herself off of the bed and pretty much flopped over Hex, who wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked out of their room and into the halls. The pain in her shaking limbs was almost overwhelming, but with Hex’s support, she could manage. She had to.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, or maybe it was because of what Hex said earlier, but the corridors were practically deserted, and they met no resistance as they slowly hobbled their way to the ‘elevator’ that Father was always leaving from. Now, Maggie didn’t really know what an elevator was, but she was sure gonna try and figure it out.

“Um… what do we do now?” Hex asked once they’d stepped inside the small room.

Maggie stared at the row of buttons on the wall.

“Uh, I dunno.”

Hex shrugged and pressed the bottom one, seemingly at random. Well, it was as good a plan as they could possibly have, given the circumstances.

The doors closed, and both of them yelped as the floor started moving. Okay. This was fine. Father travelled on this every day, so Maggie wasn’t gonna let it get the best of her.

After a few seconds, the doors opened again, and the world outside had changed. Instead of bright corridors, the room on the other side was dim, lit up only by dozens of… windows? That wasn't exactly what they looked like, but it was the closest approximation Maggie could guess, considering that she could see different parts of the facility through them. There was a chair in front of the windows, with someone sitting in it. Thankfully, it looked like they were asleep.

Was this the right way? It was worth a look around, at least.

Focusing all of their stealth training, Magpie and Hex tiptoed out of the elevator, sneaking towards the door on the opposite wall. Thankfully, whoever was posted up in the chair was out cold, so they were able to reach the door and get through without the person noticing anything awry.

The room on the other side was… weird. It was just as dimly lit as the previous room, only this time the light source was the large green cylinder next to the door. The walls were lined with other cylinders, but these ones were all made of metal, whereas the glowing green one seemed to be made of glass. Inside the cylinder was a small… something. Honestly, Maggie couldn't really tell what it was. It was tiny, and vaguely person shaped, but that was where her deductions ended.

A forgotten memory suddenly flashed through her mind. She remembered this green stuff. She remembered being submerged in it, floating in the warmth.

The realisation washed over her like ice water. This was it, wasn't it? This was where she came from. There was no ‘before’ the facility. This room was where she and Hex were… created.

Her heart lurched in her chest. They… they were never actually born, just… grown in a tube. No wonder Hex looked exactly like her. Screw ‘sister,’ they were probably the same damn person. And from the looks of things, the tiny speck floating in the green was probably the next little sister to come. What the hell did Father want with them that he would go as far as to create people?!

“There was never an accident, was there?” Hex asked. “This was where we came from.”

Maggie sighed, trying not to let the idea overwhelm her. “Looks like it.”

“B-but… what does that mean for us?”

She scowled. “It means nothing. It doesn't matter where we came from, because we're here now. We exist, we're people, and we're not gonna let Father push us around anymore just because he created us.”

Hex took a shallow breath and nodded. It looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. “Right.”

Maggie wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Instead, she looked at the little rectangle next to the cylinder. There was writing on it.

SUBJECT G-7: ‘JORDYN’

STATUS: NORMAL

She sighed. “Good luck, Jordyn. You're gonna need it.”

“I think we went the wrong way,” Hex said. “We shouldn't stay here.”

“Agreed. Let's go.”

They turned and exited back the way they came, into the room with all the windows and the sleeping person. They were going to just cross through back into the elevator when something on one of the windows caught Maggie's eye. She stopped walking.

“What is it?” Hex whispered.

“That window has writing on it. It says our numbers.”

“So?”

“Any information could be helpful, Hex. We know literally nothing about the outside world, or honestly, ourselves. It's worth it.”

“What if the guy wakes up?”

“I'll take him out.”

Hex bit her lip, hesitating, but ultimately, she nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them silently crept over to the wall of windows, focusing on the one at the bottom. The person in the chair – who they could see now was a man – didn’t react. Sure enough, the window displayed both of the numbers Maggie and Hex had on the back of their necks. They started to read.

Subject G-5

Power already manifesting in early development stage. Subject has a pair of wings growing from her back. Whether or not they will actually allow for flight remains to be seen. Named ‘Magpie.’

(I will not allow a subject with a purely cosmetic power to waste my time. Is there any way to ensure that her wings will work? - Andreas)

(With a little bit of genetic engineering, we can give her super-dense muscles for some added strength. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help! - George)

(Do it. - Andreas)

Maggie rubbed her bicep absent-mindedly. She thought she was this strong from her own merit, but it was just Father – or ‘Andreas,’ if she had to guess which one was him – tampering with her even more. The idea made her feel sick. She kept reading.

Post-birth, everything is falling into expected parameters. Habilitation to continue.

Subject has a particularly rebellious personality, and is not very receptive to orders or Andreas’ explanation of why she is missing her memories. Programming may have failed to set in properly for whatever reason. Continuing to study.

Subject appears to have become quite attached to G-6 post introduction, and vice versa. Whether or not this is a good or bad thing for the program remains to be seen.

Subject excelling at locomotive and combat training. Subject’s aggressive personality, while difficult to control at times, is proving very effective in battle. Expected to pass exam with ease.

Subject interrupted one of G-6’s punishments, assaulting Andreas and threatening him. Her protectiveness of G-6 has proven to be a liability. No solution to this has been found as of yet. Correction chip was effective in subduing subject. Punishment to be carried out.

‘Correction chip?’ That was what knocked her out back then? Maggie shuddered. Just how much had Andreas tinkered with her and Hex’s bodies?

That was where her entry ended, and Hex’s entry began. She continued on.

Subject G-6

Subject was pulled out of formation tank early due to unexpected complications that would have otherwise resulted in her death. As a result, her body and brain were not fully formed, leaving her in a child-like state. Estimated physical age to be around 12 years old. Termination was considered, but subject displayed a strong telekinetic power that could effectively make up for her underdeveloped body. Named ‘Hex.’ Proceeding with habilitation.

(Well, this throws a wrench into things. How are we going to explain this to G-5? - George)

(Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. - Andreas)

Upon introduction, subject bonded with G-5. Cohabitation seems as though it will be successful. Continuing habilitation and beginning locomotive training soon.

Subject is struggling with locomotive training due to development issues, but seems determined to continue. Programming seems to have settled in well.

Locomotive performance has plateaued at an unsatisfying result. Punishments to ensue if the subject shows no more progress.

That was the end of Hex’s notes. The last one made Maggie want to punch the window, but she held herself back. What kind of a monster would resort to… to doing what Maggie had witnessed, just because a child wasn’t doing good enough?!

“Maggie, your wings!” Hex whisper-yelled.

“Ngh?”

It was too late. In Maggie’s anger, she’d failed to notice that her wings had puffed up, getting ready to extend so she could fly. In doing so, they’d bumped into the guy in the chair and woke him up. The two stared at each other.

He started scrambling. “H-Hey! What-”

Hex’s eyes widened, and the man was suddenly flung across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough for Maggie to hear an audible crack. For a second, she thought he might have died, but he was still squirming around. She could use this.

Maggie let go of Hex and limped over to the man, gingerly kneeling down and grabbing him by the lapels. 

“Wh-what…? M… Magpie?”

“How do we get out of here?” she demanded. “Tell me, or I’m gonna start breaking things.”

“I… I don’t… what?”

From the look of it, he probably had a pretty bad concussion. Maggie sighed and tried again, speaking slower.

“How. Do. We. Get. Out. Of. Here?”

It finally seemed to click for the guy. About a hundred different emotions flickered across his face; most of them some variation of fear.

“Y-you… You can’t.”

Maggie snarled. “Why not?!”

“Th-they’ll find you. No matter where you go. They’ll track your chips and bring you back.”

“Chips? Like the correction chip?”

His eyes widened. “How do you…”

Maggie remembered when Andreas used it on her. She remembered exactly where the pain came from; where it was the most intense. “They’re in the backs of our necks, aren’t they?”

The man glanced from side to side, like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I…”

Whatever. That was good enough. They could figure out the elevator on their own. Maggie finished the guy off with the strongest jab to the face she could muster in her weakened state.

“What do we do now?” Hex asked as Maggie limped back over.

“We’ve got to get these chips out. They’re in the backs of our necks. If we don’t get rid of them, Andreas will be able to find us no matter how far we run.”

Hex grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. But that’s what we’ve trained for.”

—

With the help of a first aid kit and a shard of glass from a broken cup, Maggie and Hex cut the back of each other’s necks open, and managed to fish out the horrible chip. There was a lot of whimpering, crying, and shouting involved, but they got through it in the end, stitching each other up just as they were trained for. Maggie felt sick having to hurt Hex like that, but it was the only way for them to truly be safe from Andreas once they got out. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure that man never got his hands on them ever again.

Maggie wiped her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in the back of her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

Hex nodded, her bottom lip still quivering. “Yeah.”

They stumbled over to the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Maggie eyed the buttons on the wall wearily. Nothing to it but luck, she supposed. She pressed the one at the top and the elevator started moving again.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered in Hex’s ear. “We’re gonna be okay. No one’s gonna lay a finger on us anymore.”

Hex’s nose crinkled, but a smile played at her lips. “Your breath smells bad.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh. “Gimme a break. I haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. You’re just lucky we had time for me to shower, or I’d probably still reek of urine.”

Hex chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything when I found you, but wow, you didn’t smell good.”

“Aren’t I lucky to have such a caring little sister.” Maggie grinned.

The elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, revealing a room neither of them had ever seen before. It was wide and open, with a carpeted floor and several chairs sitting against the walls. Maggie couldn’t ascertain what its purpose was. On the far end of the room from the elevator, the wall was made entirely of glass, and a dim, cool light was drifting in from the other side. There was a door in the glass. It called to her; an odd tug in her gut urging her towards it. Somehow she knew; this was the way to the outside world. They were free.

She charged forward, filled with renewed strength, and slammed the door open. Cold air slammed into them right back.

There was a man in her way. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, then he looked to Hex and they widened even further. He wasn’t one of the familiar faces from the facility. This guy was just… a regular person. Huh.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Hex, flapped her wings, and finally took proper flight for the first time in her life. Cold wind rushed in her hair and through her feathers. Hex shrieked in delight from the thrill. The world stretched out below her and the sky opened up above her, little pinpricks of light twinkling in her eyes as freedom filled her lungs. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

If there was one thing Maggie had learned about the outside world in the brief week since they’d escaped, it was that the outside world was nothing like what she and Hex were used to. There were no more steadily provided meals, no convenient clothing that was always cleaned when they needed it, no directions or schedule or order. It was just her and her little sister against the world.

Hex’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Maggie to hear it. Maggie clenched her fists against the guilt that washed over her. She was supposed to be taking care of her, but she was failing miserably. She could barely even take care of herself. Hex was being so good about it, not complaining, always staying strong, but they couldn’t keep going like this. They were losing weight. Every night they almost froze to death, huddled up together wherever they could find even a modicum of shelter. What little food they could find was few and far between; pitiful scraps scavenged from bins or off the floor. Maggie had broken into a building to get them some new clothes the night they escaped, but it wasn’t going to last. She just had no idea how the outside world worked, frankly. Not for the first time, she wondered if escaping was a bad idea after all. 

Not everything was hopeless, though. Maggie had an idea that might help them get a little bit more to eat. She’d been doing her best to study up on what life was like out here; watching people from the shadows, reading whatever ‘newspapers’ she could get her hands on, and she reckoned she might have stumbled onto something promising.

A little ways away from their little hideout, there was a big plot of empty land, and every day, a bunch of guys would show up and start putting something together. A new building, if she had to guess. The way Maggie figured, if she could help the guys out a little bit, they might be inclined to help her out, too. A proper meal, some new clothes, maybe even a comfortable place to rest their heads. It was worth a shot, at least.

So, one day, Maggie and Hex donned their sunglasses – the best way they could figure to hide their identities, lest Andreas hear something and come looking – and made their way over to the yard.

The men were hard at work when they got there, each buried in their own task. Maggie walked up and, summing all of her courage, called out to them.

“Uh, e- excuse me!”

A few of the men stopped what they were doing and looked their way, before glancing to one man in particular. He stood up from where he was crouched near a steadily growing brick wall and raised a hand to the others. They got back to work, and the man walked over to the two of them.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked, taking off his own sunglasses and wiping the sweat from under the weird hat he and the rest of them were wearing. His tan skin was speckled with pockmarks, and a dark, full stubble had taken up most of his jaw. He was quite handsome, actually. Maggie’s stomach fluttered a little as he looked her up and down, glancing at her wings, though that also could have been from hunger.

“Yes, u-um, actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” Maggie clenched her fists, letting out an awkward laugh. This felt weird. “I, uh, I’m pretty strong. I could lift some things, i-if you need. Hex here has telekinesis, too, so… Um, she could also help.”

The man frowned. “You want… a job?”

Maggie didn’t know what that word meant, but she nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get some food, then yes.”

There was a pause as the man analysed her. “You guys are in some trouble, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Hex suddenly blurted out. “We’re… we’re just hungry. If there’s anything we can do to earn some food, please. Let us help.”

The man bit his lip, glancing to the side. After a few seconds, he looked back at Maggie. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. I can’t let you guys work on the site for… well, for obvious reasons, but if you come with me, I can get you two something to eat, and we can sit down and talk this through. The company I work for is owned by the Heroes’ Union, so we should be able to work something out and get you guys some help. Sound good?”

Half of that meant literally nothing to Maggie, but at this point, she would take anything. She nodded.

“Alright,” the man said, holding out his hand. “The name’s Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

—

Back in the present, Maggie smiled at the memory of her and Diego’s first meeting as she pulled her shirt back on and struggled to get her wings through the holes. It had been almost two years since then, and Maggie felt lucky for that chance encounter every single day.

Diego had taken them back to this very apartment, gave them their first warm meal in over a week, let them shower, gave them a change of clothes and heard them out; every last detail of their fucked-up story. At the time, Maggie hadn’t known how much to omit, so she just told him everything. If he’d been anyone else, that could have ended terribly for them, but thankfully, they’d run into one of the few genuinely good people in this city. He was the only one that knew the whole truth; that Maggie and Hex were nothing more than unwilling body doubles for a woman that died five years ago; that Andreas de Vygon was playing God below the precinct, creating life and forcing it to do his bidding; that Seven wasn’t just a superhero working for the police, but the next body double down the line. As far as any of his bosses knew, Diego had just taken in some powered people in need of help, and provided him the resources to do so. If not for his generosity, Maggie was sure she and Hex would have died on the streets, clueless and alone.

Not wanting to be a burden, Maggie once again begged Diego to let her work at the construction site, and finally, he acquiesced, promising to teach her how things worked. These days, it was what she spent most of her time doing, saving the company money by using her wings to do the high-up work that anyone else would need safety equipment for. It was hard work for sure, but it was rewarding, knowing that she was helping earn to support herself and her sister.

It was about a year after they started living together that this… thing that had been dancing between them finally caught alight. Maggie’d had time to learn about the world, about people, about relationships and how things worked. She’d seen them on TV, read about them in books, figured out how to determine the good from the bad by scouring the internet, and finally, made her move on Diego. They’d been sharing a few drinks after Hex went to bed, watching a movie together on the couch, and Maggie just went for it, grabbing his face and kissing him then and there when the moment presented itself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just pent up from literally never receiving sexual touch from another person in her life, but things progressed very quickly from there and they took it straight to the bedroom. Safe to say, it was a night she would never forget.

They had a proper conversation about it the morning after, where Diego admitted that he’d felt the same way for a while, but wasn’t comfortable making a move considering that, for a lot of their relationship up to that point, Maggie was entirely dependent on him, and considering how little she knew about… anything, the dynamic would have been a little weird. But now that she’d started working, now that she had her own money and a half-decent understanding of the world, and now that he knew she was actually super interested in him, too, he figured they could give this thing a shot. And the rest was history.

Jordyn’s appearance on the streets had scared her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she came after their fragile peace, smashing through their glass walls and leaving Maggie and Hex nothing more than a bad memory in Andreas’ mind, splattered across Diego’s floor. That tiny speck that once floated in the green had grown into a monster, and Maggie had no choice but to get ahead of it.

To that end, and much to Diego’s protest, Maggie had gone hunting. What she needed was equipment. Weaponry that could stand up to a killer of Maggie’s own calibre. Sure, Maggie’d had more time to build her muscles, and she was undoubtedly one of the strongest people alive already, thanks to Andreas’ tinkering, but Jordyn had the backing of the entire police force behind her. Maggie needed to be smart.

So, she slaughtered two SWAT officers and stole their guns. Then she used that sniper rifle to shoot Jordyn down. Only, she underestimated the strength of her armour, and only succeeded in pissing Andreas off. For a month, she laid low, hiding out in the apartment and waiting for things to cool off. And once they did, she tried again.

Jordyn was no pushover, though, and gave her a real run for her money. Maggie got her down though. Got her down, and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and ending it, when that pathetic, terrified look on her face made Maggie freeze. 

Did she make the right choice in letting her little sister live? Who could say. The only thing to do was move forward, and take every day as it came. Maggie and Hex were alive, and they were free, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

“Maggie?”

“Hm?” She blinked, returning to her body. Hex had been calling to her. “What’s up?”

“We were trying to ask what you wanted from McDonalds. Get lost in your head again?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Thinkin’ about stuff.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and order, birdie, or I’ll get you a 20 pack of chicken nuggets again,” Diego joked.

Maggie let out a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare! Making me eat my own kin; shame on you!”

Diego laughed, and Maggie basked in the sound. It was times like these that it felt like everything would turn out alright after all.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

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@bacillusinfection

wahoo bird lady backstory!!!

i do really love maggie as a character, but in truth, she doesn't actually get all that much screentime in the current outline of the plot. granted, that outline is in the literal haziest terms imaginable, so that's open to change lol. or maybe i'll write a maggie spinoff once this is done

only 2 more chapters until the end of this arc! next up, we reconvene with Steve and see the results of his little investigation hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (evil but cute laugh)

thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog! It's v appreciated :> Ciao!

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

I think fans want Jason to be a good person or be becoming one. To have a character that is well meaning and compassionate but decided murder is ok and to stand against main heroes who’s beliefs and actions go against the people he cares about and wants in his life. It’s confusing for people. People want their fav characters to be happy. But Jason can’t have his family’s support and follow his moral code. He’s cares about people and Gotham, and he’s an asshole who kills. It’s messy. It’s not black and white. I don’t even think Jason cares about being a good person or in the right anymore. I think he cares about what will save the most people instead.

Oh my goodness gracious I’ve been bamboozled

Batman’s definition of Good is not synonymous with absolute good/right no matter how much dc insists it is. Torture, battery/assault, surveillance, those are all condemnable actions too. I won’t get into the exhausting and frankly dumb debate of comic book morality wrt killing because I’ve already reblogged plenty of posts from other people who explained my thoughts on the matter far better than I ever have the patience to sit down and articulate. I also just think the notion that there’s something to be done about fictional characters who kill nazis and senseless murderers is stupid. Jason’s point is that the “main” heroes’ sanitized definition of right has its unaddressed holes and flaws which ultimately result in more preventable fatalities, and that he’ll work to correct those missing spots.

He doesn’t not care about doing what’s right. What he doesn’t care about (at least during his Winick characterization) is whether Batman thinks he’s right or wrong, because he sees the flaws in Batman’s methodology (and since he has a mind of his own). Batman’s methods alone cannot address Arkham’s revolving door and the rogues that come and go through those doors who have no intention (or capability from the doylist pov) of ever changing or undergoing redemption. Jason knows that he’s minimizing the number of preventable deaths by killing his targets, typically Characters Who Simply Do Fucked Up Shit Just Because, Why The Fuck Not?

Secondly, Jason is compassionate … to a fault. That was his fatal flaw. If he wasn’t so hell-bent on saving his potential birth mother he just met from that bomb despite everything she did to him prior, he could have protected himself instead, however slim his odds of survival were. What about his relationship with his other parents? He was a caregiver during his early childhood years for Catherine, until her death. Even mature adults who are financially stable find being a caregiver to a dying parent to be extremely burdensome on their bodies and minds, but he never complained about it or resented Catherine for being unable to care for him. Despite how none of his parents have really been what he needed them to be, he doesn’t blame them for their failings, and even continues to think highly of them (Bruce included).

And post-death? Enter Lost Days. Despite being dead set on plotting his revenge on Bruce, he constantly sidelines this in order to save other victims who are helpless like he once was. His own anger, trauma, and mission don’t remain his priority. (Sound familiar? Something something my own trauma above my son’s, mission above all else, etc.). Why would he waste precious time and risk his own life to do this if he wasn’t empathetic towards these victims or didn’t care about doing the right thing. He is simultaneously horribly traumatized and full of rage, and also incapable of ignoring what’s happening to victims around him (even as he claims that it’s indeed not his priority). And in that same vein, the entire premise of his rebirth outlaws run was that he doesn’t care if the public views him as a villain, an outlaw, so long as he can protect Gotham. And anyway where is this portrayal of him not caring about being in the right anymore. Almost every modern Jason story is about him grappling with where he stands with Bruce/Batman. During the early 2000s was probably the last time he did not care (hello, tentatodd??).

Jason has very evidently been portrayed as a kind and compassionate character. He is also simultaneously a calculated killer who doesn’t hesitate to kill when he deems necessary, and does so without remorse. It’s called being a Complex Character With An Edge™ that as you said, people so often claim to love. However when he fulfills that latter part, that seems to upset people because “killing bad”, and they then try to shave off and round out all his edges and claim he shouldn’t be that angry. In that case I guess you should just stick to liking traditional one-dimensional characters instead of claiming to like Jason but then encouraging his character assassination attempt by dc. Lol.

Lastly, who said anything about the batfam making Jason happy? Just because he’s written nowadays to want acceptance from Bruce (a shoddy attempt at forcing a non-existent nuclear batfamily), doesn’t mean that it’s a sound decision or that it does his character justice. I certainly don’t empathize with the idea that Jason needs the family’s approval or acceptance to be happy. (And anyway he has enough outlets for angst and pain aside from the batfam hello explore his other sources of trauma and do more deep dives into how he thinks when he’s alone). I don’t want them to magically make up and become one big happy family. This is not disney Lol. Besides, there are plenty of stories from dc that have that type of “wholesome” (hate that word utilization) characterization for Jason (Li’l Gotham, Tiny Titans, wfa, and even new stuff like the brave and the bold mini) and that is sufficient imo. Jason fans who are invested in the character deserve accurate, nuanced characterization and well-written stories, whether they be from his robin days (e.g., Batman: The Cult) or as red hood.

[asterias-record-shop]

WE NEED HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS WITH ETHAN LANDRY. LIKE OKAY, HEAR ME OUT

she’s his whole world and he’d do legit anything for her, and he’s scared of the idea of losing her after graduation and they fall slightly out of touch and once richie dies and she’s gone, he falls into his canon counterpart until she is reintroduced through him by anika who has became her roommate and best friend and ethan can’t believe she’s actually there and just some fluffy smut + maybe angst bc he knows he can’t save her from his sister or father but that part is completely up to you!!

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

— long lost sweetheart

┖┈┈┈┈┈┈┈𓆩♡𓆪┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚

**edited timeline

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

— High School Sweetheart! Ethan Landry who was head over heels for you ever since you both were children, finally having enough courage to ask you out when the two of you were freshmen. You were both each other's first everything, and the night before he left town after Richie's murder, you both had sex for the first time.

— High School Sweetheart! Reader who went to Blackmore after a gap-year, deciding to end it with Ethan when the two of you just couldn't keep seeing each other. It was mutual and ended on good terms, but for fucks sake, who could forget their first love?

— High School Sweetheart! Ethan Landry who goes to Blackmore in hopes of seeing you again, but doesn't show it off too much because you might not feel the same way.

— High School Sweetheart! Reader who literally almost sobbed when you saw him again, of course introduced by your roommate Anika, running into his arms and Ethan kissing you shamelessly - leading to heavy confusion to the rest of the group.

— High School Sweetheart! Reader who's confused on why Ethan changed his name, about to ask why and tell everyone how long you had known each other before Ethan pulled you away and explained why.

"Just say I'm your long-distance boyfriend, okay? I... I want to escape that past and that name, and so does my sister. Just... don't say anything, please?"

— High School Sweetheart! Reader who complies out of love and trust, not knowing the fact that he was going to continue his brother's mission.

— High School Sweetheart! Ethan Landry who rented a hotel room to finally spend a night with you after fucking his fist every night away from you, finally praising your body like the night before he left. He would touch you like you were glass before he finally gets the view of your wet cunt, shamelessly pushing his fingers into you and desperately eating you out like a starved man.

— High School Sweetheart! Reader who can't focus on anything else but pleasure, his fingers pushing into your cunt and his tongue grazing over your slit before sucking firmly on your clit and using his fingers to continue stretching you out, focused only on your pleasure.

— High School Sweetheart! Ethan Landry who wants to make you feel good, the only thing on his mind the fact he might not be able to save you from his family and their plans to kill you because you were the only one who knew who he was, who his brother was... he was torn between his love for you and what felt like his destiny.

"I love you, Y/N, and for fucks sake- I will protect you with everything I have."

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@wenvierismycomfort]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪   𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 15 (Final)

Last one, everyone! After this, I finally get to play Spiritfarer which I got on . . . Christmas 2022.

NARRATION

Last chapter. Finally. Killing so many people in this route is really awful. Especially since you just . . . don't in the other two.

I think the last chapter will take place at the monastery.

Oh, great, does this mean I have to protect Bernie's dad in this route? I hope Rhea kills him, like gets this badass cut scene where she cuts him down for perverting her faith by using it as a propaganda tool.

So TWSITD showed up and is attacking Rhea and the Empire.

They're mostly after the "beasts" (aka Nabateans? Or humans?)

I wish this meant that we teamed up with Rhea, but we know Edelgard would team up with TWSITD first.

Catherine and Rhea got a cool moment together though.

Yep, we have to protect Count Varley, gross.

MAP

No side battles! This final chapter will be super quick, which is nice.

I'm VERY curious what the Golden Deer students say after Claude's moment last chapter lamo.

And if any Lions mention Sylvain :((((

OMG, Ignatz is savage. He only cares about painting the battle. No mention of Claude.

Yuri wishes he could kill Varley instead of save him. Good for him. He really feels more suited for AG/AM/SS/VW than SB/CF/GW.

Well, at least Mercedes mentioned Sylvain. And Ingrid and Annette. Saying they died for what they believed in and admires them for it, since she could never.

Poor Ashe is having a crisis. Still had no idea wtf he's doing in the Empire's war camp. Honestly, this game made him so much more interesting.

Linhardt also has no fucking clue why he's here. I swear he does nothing but complain every map (in a funny way) and wish he was doing literally anything else.

Lorenz is more concerned about his future bc of Claude than worried about him. Man, guy really has no one loyal to him lol.

DOROTHEA & CASPAR C

I swear I did a much better job getting supports in GW and AG.

Caspar has a bunch of books, and Dorothea's horrified by the idea that he'll use them in training.

Caspar plans to read them. Dorothea teases him. Apparently Lin made similar comments.

Dorothea makes him promise not to hurt the books. A woman after my own heart.

Caspar's like, did you know my dad reads! Dorothea's like, yeah . . . how do you think he got his role if he didn't.

Dorothea tells a story about an unlearned commander who studied strategy in books and improved to become legendary.

The only stupid part of this is thinking you can read and understand complicated books in 5 days and become an expect in 5 days. For once, Caspar was the smart one being like, uh, I need more time.

MERCEDES & LYSITHEA B

This support is SB locked, but neither characters are Eagles. It may be the only support like that in the game. But, hey, new Mercie content, I'll take it!

Mercedes comes across Lysithea in the kitchen, trying and failing to cook.

The fruits she wanted to use are moldy though. Lysithea has an idea to use something else for the fruit - a sugar syrup.

Lysithea has dedicated her time to learning how to cook because of how good Mercedes' cooking was, so she credits Mercie for the sugar syrup, which she learned because of that.

Baking also helped Lysithea learn the importance of taking breaks.

Mercie calls her a wizened old grandma, lol.

They arrange a tea party.

SHEZ & LINHARDT A

It starts with Linhardt saying they haven't learned anything about Shez's powers. I wonder how funny this sounds if you get it after the special chapters.

Linhardt says it's find because the war is almost over, so there's less need and chance for the powers to go out of control.

Shez pretty consistently wants to continue working as a mercenary after the battle.

He also seems to have no desire to stay in Enbarr lol.

Linhardt wants Shez as a personal bodyguard. Honestly, not a bad choice.

Then Linhardt says something like "spending the rest of my life with some random bodyguard" and then makes an excuse to leave. so he wants to stick with Shez for life. It's kind of sweet.

EDELGARD & PETRA A

Their only support

Edelgard comes across Petra praying to Bigid gods. In Brigid they pray in nature rather than in churches in Fodlan.

Edelgard asks Petra why she's risking her life in the war because it's bad for Brigid.

So Brigid will only be freed if Petra remains alive.

To be fair, it's because she doesn't know the new leader. Still feels a bit icky for Petra.

Edelgard warns about "tricks" the enemy will use. She really has a beef with anyone using tactics.

Petra just says she's happy to fight and can't run while everyone else remains and fights.

Edelgard says she can't back out, which true, but she could've just not started one. But that's in the past I guess.

Overall, came across better than the Houses one where Petra didn't seem like an equal.

EDELGARD/LYSITHEA/HAPI PARALOGUE

My plan is to have Edelgard and Shez make the other two adjuncts and see if I can't beat the paralogue that way.

It's about TWSITD, which isn't surprising given that character list.

God, I've made SB Shez so fucking stupid. Never understanding anything. It's so funny.

So is this about Cornelia? They found one of her old hideouts.

I had Shez shrug about joining. Hapi got offended.

They're talking about Hubert. I wish he was here. He's my best unit.

I wish Cornelia showed up. She's so fun, but sadly she did not.

They didn't find anything. Hapi was mostly chill about it. Edelgard and Lysithea were more bothered.

Shez could show concern or change the subject. Obviously I made him change the subject since SB!Shez is not intelligent.

CASPAR/LINHARDT PARALOGUE

Like the last time, I just plan to adjunct Caspar and let Shez and Linhardt do all the work.

They're arguing if Caspar saw a ghost or not. Linhardt remains unconvinced.

Lamo, their dads showed up and Linhardt's dad called him a "fountain of positivity" when he brought up their could die any day.

Linhardt is also upset that he has to help.

We're hunting down Empire people who've turned against Edelgard.

I had Shez not want to go lol.

The main battle changed to defeating their dads. I don't think I'm supposed to take this paralogue seriously.

Linhardt had no fun.

Bergliez gave Caspar some gaunlets, and I could either be happy for him or jealous. I obviously picked jealous since it's fun to pick the dick answer lol.

FINAL BATTLE

Why is the S rank reward Edelgard's axe? This is the last battle, right? Is there some post game stuff? Because I'm so ready for this to be done (I don't think I'll do it).

Funny, Edelgard is the one defending the monastery this time, and Varley. Imagine your final battle being about protecting Varley. Ugh.

Only 40 points for the final battle?

Just killed Catherine :(

Cyril just showed up. Rhea's so concerned. Not looking forward to killing a child :((( He died too. This is by far the bloodiest route. I swear no one even dies in AG, and in GW it's only Sylvain's dad.

This can't be it, right? That was too easy. And Cyril as the final boss makes no sense. I'm betting it's a Thales and Rhea fight.

Rhea turned into a dragon. Badass. Glad she was the final boss poper and not Thales.

Spoke too soon. I think they're both here now.

Think I beat it. We're at a cut scene now. Thales is doing magic shit. Rhea attacked him and just ignored Edelgard and Shez like they weren't worth her notice lol.

Wait, that's it?

Rhea pushes Thales off a cliff? So RHEA's the hero??

There's no way they could've survived that - Edelgard. My girl, Rhea is a fucking dragon and Thales can warp. I have bad news from you. Also, Byleth survived a fall too so . . .

What happened to Dimitri? I don't think I killed Claude either?

Is that really it? The war just keeps going. The war just keeps on with no end in sight. Hahahaha. You mean I played how many hours for THAT? I'm going to laugh my ass off if all 3 routes end like this. What a cheap way to avoid killing any of the lords.

OMG. What a stupid ending.

Except for Rhea. She got the big hero moment lol.

I kept waiting for another battle. Esp since there's an S rank reward that's Edelgard's axe, so Idk what's going on.

OMG, this is going to take FOREVER. They're showing the MVP of every single side battle and not just the main ones. I'm only at ch 6.

There was a lot more variety in MVP than I thought. I thought it would be the Hubert show, but it's pretty varied.

Ok, so around ch 10 turns into the Hubert show. I like seeing battle data though, so I sat through it.

Ok, so you get a letter from the person you get a whistle from. Aww, I eventually won Hubert's trust, and he admits he and the army needs us. Glad I picked him.

Wait, no paired endings? That blows. I hope this isn't a new trend since Engage didn't do that either (I love paired endings)

Ok, so it looks like some stuff would carry over to another playthrough on this file. So, in the future, I'd replay AG over my GW or SB playthrough to at least get 2 on the same one. I can't see myself replaying SB or GW. It's not like the story would matter since I could just skip it, but the gameplay is pretty much the same, so why not play the route with my favorites and the most unit choices on top of that?

So you can carry over supports and even unit level. So I could play Dimitri as the absurd level he's at in level one if I saved over my AG file? Because that would be funny. Probably boring. But funny.

Still feels good. One down. Two to go.

xxxx

[couldntbedamned]

A Sweet Escape (To Better Days)

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader

Summary: While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality, she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Obsession, Sexual Content, Spanking, Blatant disregard for responsibilities to multiple realities

Note: This isn’t really a prequel to There's Only Butterflies (Take Me Away), so much as it’s a companion piece, I suppose. In my mind they simply go together.

Stephen was her first.

It wasn’t as if she’d been waiting for Mr. Right, marriage, or anything so sentimental. There had been plenty of opportunities, but sex just hadn’t seemed important. She had her vibrators and her imagination. Men, from what she’d experienced, were simply more trouble than they were worth.

Until Stephen.

Stephen had flown - literally - into her life and everything she’d known had turned upside down.

She’d been captivated by him. He was intelligent, charming, handsome, and just a little bit mean. Which would be a red flag to anyone else but just set tingles afire deep in her belly.

Why he’d settled on her of all people, she didn’t know, but after the first time he’d taken her, moved in her, filled her, she’d decided it didn’t matter.

Sex with Stephen was better than any orgasm she’d wrung from herself with her vibrators. He was unrelenting, demanding her pleasure several times over before he’d take his own. Passing out from sheer pleasure? Yeah, apparently not something that only happened in books.

She lived with him in the Sanctum, days and nights filled with time spent together reading, talking, fucking. He could be fairly useless with words - especially the three words most people held above all. There was something in his eyes that told her he wanted to say the words but couldn’t stop from saying the wrong thing or just saying nothing at all. It never mattered to her; his actions said more than simple words ever could. Why insist on silly little words when he bared his soul to her in every way that truly mattered?

He had to dash off to save the world, obviously, but he always came back to her. They’d inevitably end up fucking for hours, as if to reaffirm that he was still alive.

Strange found them, fittingly, she thought, on a chilly and storming Halloween evening.

At first, she thought the ritualistic sex had gone terribly wrong. (Or wonderfully right. What? She was horny and, thanks to the magic, unable to get off until Stephen finished his part of the ritual by finishing inside her.)

“The Runes of Rapitu,” Strange had said, circling around them. He didn’t look well, this version of Stephen. His face was leaner, the circles under his eyes purple and pronounced. Even his Cloak appeared almost feral. “A little on the nose for Samhain, isn’t it?”

Unashamed of his naked form, Stephen stood, conjuring his shields. “This isn’t your universe.”

“I have no universe,” Strange replied. His eyes raked over her nude body as it glistened in the candlelight. “I see you have one, though.”

He studied the runes intently, each flaring to greater life under his gaze, the glow red rather than orange. “What is it you’re hoping to bind?”

Shakily, she fingered the torq around her neck. “A new relic.”

“Allow me to assist you,” Strange said suggested. He caught her gaze and oh how she found herself wanting him! “Or I can simply absorb your magic for my own and continue on my miserable existence. It’s your choice,” he said to her. “But the loss of you would be a tragedy.”

Her? Her and not Stephen, the Sorcerer Supreme?

“You’ve already lost her, haven’t you?” Stephen asked, lowering his shields.

“Yes, and it led to losing everything,” Strange answered, never taking his eyes off of her. “Do not take her for granted, we - your reality - cannot withstand her loss.”

At her nod, Stephen parted the runes and Strange stepped into the circle, divesting himself of his robes as he did so. His Cloak went to join their Cloak off to the side.

Between the two of them, there wasn’t a coherent thought in her head until the ritual was complete. All she’d known was the feel of hands on her, two scarred and shaking and the others elegant and sure along with their cocks taking her, worshiping with her as they imbued magic and protection and strength into the torc and paid their homage to Rapitu. She was little more than a blissed-out, satiated mess, dripping of them both and the newly charmed relic buzzing and warm around her neck when all was said and done. Stephen and Strange surrounded her and took their time bringing her back to herself as she was washed and dried and protected. She woke between them and after kissing Stephen, turned to Strange.

“Stay.”

Months of bliss followed Strange’s arrival into her and Stephen’s world.

Strange touched her whenever the opportunity presented itself - a hand on her shoulder, the small of her back, no touch was ever too small. He kissed her as if doing so could wipe clean the fact that he’d destroyed. an. entire. universe. in the name of some version of her she’d never known.

Stephen, already the most jealous man she’d ever known, had assured her he wasn’t envious of Strange. “He’s me,” Stephen said, watching as Strange devoured her pussy like a man starved of water, drawing out quaking release after quaking release until she couldn’t lift her head in her exhaustion. “How could I possibly be jealous of myself?”

The two of them took turns whenever there was a threat to reality or a day that needed saving. They were skilled enough to hide the differences in front of the outside world… but not to her. She could always tell them apart.

The arrival of another variant, her Defender, came on a bright and sunny day. She was running from an alien invader on a rare trip out of the Sanctum when he appeared like a righteous angel, harnessing the brightness of the sun and saving her life. Who needed the sun when she had her very own Sol ready to slay any demons that might haunt her?

Strange and Stephen were unsure, but her Sol’s devotion to her could not be questioned.

“I was fighting a giant eyeball,” he told them over drinks. “I killed it but there was an interdimensional portal that sucked me through. I don’t know how to get back.” He looked at her, expression soft. “And I don’t know if I even want to.” He’d lost her too, she realized.

“You saved my life,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, you can stay for as long as you want.”

He couldn’t swap places with the others out in the world since she put her foot down on his hair.

“You’ll break my heart if you cut it,” she pouted playfully. “I like to run my fingers through it.”

He smirked at Stephen and Strange. “I like when you pull it, too.”

He stayed inside the Sanctum with her, keeping her busy whenever Stephen or Strange was away protecting the reality. He was rigid and unyielding in many ways, absolute in his belief that it was his duty to keep her safe and cared for. If he told her to do something, he expected it to be done. And the thing was, his orders were never unreasonable, not really.

The first time he hauled her over his lap, vanished her shorts, and spanked her ass to a cherry red after she’d disobeyed him was… well, it was an experience. And then he’d comforted her, asked how he could help her do the right thing going forward. She hadn’t been angry with him, instead, she’d felt… cherished.

“I will always protect you,” he promised with a tender kiss to her lips that had her near tears all over again. “Even if it’s from yourself.” Then he made love to her, showed her just how good things could be if she stayed good for him, trusted him to take care of her.

At first, she ignored the cracks in the world that started appearing. If her lovers weren’t worried, why should she be?

They were actually more worried than they ever let her know.

Travelers started to appear, those who didn’t belong with voices insistent about the threat of annihilation, of how sacred timelines were diverging and converging. Her lovers were having visions of universes disintegrating into nothing but blackest chaos even as reality tried to re-forge itself again and again. She herself began to dream of losing everything until she was alone in nothingness, far away from her loves.

They were not meant to live in the same reality; she knew that to be true. But surely, they could stand against the inevitability of the multiverse ensuring its own survival at all costs?

Then parts of the population started to vanish, parts of people themselves started to glitch - there was no other word to describe the horror that was looking at someone only to see them turn slightly and be missing an eye or a mouth, replaced only by a void or whatever passed for normal in another reality.

The universe was about to end, and she knew it was because of her, because they’d never leave her.

She planned to run, to leave them because who was she against the fate of the multiverse?

She never got the chance to run. They’d planned, too.

“We’re so sorry, Cielo,” Defender whispered as he bound her in magic so Stephen and Strange could bind her further, sigils appearing on her skin and the world fading around her. “When you wake up, everything will be as it should be, always.”

“Sleep, my love,” Stephen implored. “Sleep and dream of us.”

“We’ll be here with you the whole time; we’ll never leave you.”

The universe she was born into was created over the course of billions, perhaps trillions of years.

It only took her lovers a little over three to create her new one.

She awoke to a world unlike any she’d ever seen or even imagined.

“It’s yours,” Stephen told her. “Everything here is for you.”

“We hope you like it.”

The voice was Stephen’s but new, the cadence unique.

“You’re another Stephen,” she whispered, stunned. He was so similar and so unique among them. She had never seen him clean-shaven, nor a blue Cloak. “How?”

“We’re all Stephen, my Dear,” yet another Stephen said. “That’s how the multiverse works.” His hair was wilder, his goatee grown into a pointed beard. He looked sinister, in a way, though he was undoubtedly, like he said, a Stephen.

“You found a way to stop the incursions?” She asked, looking to her first three. “How? I thought more than one variant couldn’t co-exist in a given reality. The universes have rules!”

Her selfishness had nearly broken her universe, after all.

“That is true,” Strange said. “So, we created a universe where we could make our own rules.”

Something sick settled in her belly. A new universe?

“What about ours?” she asked Stephen. “Are they… what have you done?”

“We’ve repaired the damage we were creating as best we could,” Clean-shaven said. “Some damage was too great in one or two realities, but they’ll have several billion years before they’ll even start to fade.”

“The others are safe now,” Sinister said. “As long as we remain here, they’ll remain safe.”

“And what is here, exactly?”

“A pocket universe,” Defender says. “We exist outside of the multiversal branches and therefore we cannot damage them.”

“And who exactly constitutes ‘we’?” she asked.

“You, and us,” Strange answered, motioning between the five of them. “Just the six of us, together forever.”

She turned and ran, ignoring their calls after her. She pushed open the doors and flung herself out into this new world they’d created, terrified because who did that?

They hadn’t even chased her down, simply let her exhaust herself in this new, remarkably stunning universe they’d created. She’d run through a forest of pure white trees with purple foliage and azure grass and then a field of orange clover that never seemed to end only to find herself at what looked like a safe little cottage. The inside, however, was right where she’d started.

“There’s no running,” the clean-shaven one said when Sinister blocked her exit and Defender embraced her from behind. “Every path will bring you back to us.”

“Don’t lead me to punish you, Cielo. This is our home and you’re safe here.”

“I want to go home,” she insisted. It was part-truth, mostly-lie because how could she ever leave them - even the newest two - but how could she let them abandon their roles?

“You are home,” Strange said. “Your home is here now, with us.”

“This is the only way,” Stephen told her, stepping close and caressing her cheek. “Dearest Love this is the only way.”

She nodded, cautiously.

She ran a few times after that.

It never mattered. They either caught her, or she ended up back where she started. Either way she found herself over Defender’s lap, sobbing as he punished her for running. Then she’d cry in other ways as they demonstrated just how she was theirs.

Supreme, as she thought of the clean-shaven one, was as controlling as her Sol is protective. If no one else was around, he would pick out her clothing, her food, anything. He had to be around her all the time, much like Strange but there was a desperation to it that Strange has never had.

“Isn’t this universe supposed to be about me?” She once asked after his suggestion they visit the beach rather than her offered trip into one of the many cities that existed just for her.

“Do you dislike what we do?” He asked her in response. “Have I displeased you?”

The thing was, he hadn’t. He never did. The clothes he chose for her were inevitably perfect, the food the best she’d ever tasted. Even the books he suggested for her were fantastic reads and as she lay with him massaging (unneeded) sunscreen into her back, she could admit that he was perfect for her.

She was always sure to tell him whenever they were in bed, where he again devoted himself to her pleasure, bringing tidal waves of bliss to crash over her again and again. “You’re so perfect for me.” His eyes would close then, peace stealing across his face at her words, as though they were a benediction.

If ever there was a lost soul in her universe it was her Sinister. The man had spent years searching for any kind of a happy ending, any scenario where he wasn’t miserable and alone and he looked at her as though she were his salvation. When he wasn’t overwhelming her, that was.

“I’ve searched for you,” he told her one afternoon when her other Stephens were away re-enforcing the protective barriers of their pocket universe. “It wasn’t just happiness I searched for, my Love. It was for happiness with you.”

“I suppose you’ve found me,” she said. He was broken and she didn’t know if she could ever fix him. He, like Supreme and Strange, had destroyed entire universes.

“I have,” he said, stepping closer, hands linked behind his back. It was his default position, she’d learned. “I have and I will never let anything take you away.”

“It’s not like I can ever escape.”

He barked out a harsh laugh but stilled her flinch with a blackened finger under her chin. “We’re your prisoners every bit as much as you’re ours.” He always told her the truth, in his own way.

He leaned in, claimed her lips with his, the scratch of his wild goatee rough against her skin.

He terrified her in a multitude of ways, but he kissed her in the very best of ways. Sex always left her bruised and marked and exhausted but she’d never deny she loved it. His touch was strong, this side of too hard, too much, too wild but every time she found herself pushing back in kind, even seeking out the abandon he offered. 

Time was both too short and infinite for her and her beloveds. Her Stephen, her Strange. Her Sinister, her Supreme, and of course, her dearest Defender.

While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

They created a universe, rewrote the very rules of all of existence, simply for her. All so they could be with her, forever.

Yes, there were more versions of them, and those sorry souls (to use the phrasing both Sinister and Strange use) were no doubt protecting their respective realities. Her own monitored the multiverse whenever the mood struck them. They watched from their pocket universe, unseen but one occasionally dipping out to offer the briefest yet most crucial of assists before returning and then seeking her out.

“You are our most important reality,” her Defender, her Sol told her.

“But at the cost of trillions?” She once asked helplessly.

Could she be so selfish?

“We can’t go back into our realities without risking even greater casualties,” Stephen said as he helped remove her tunic. “Here, in our home, we are safe.”

“And because we are, so are countless other realities,” Supreme added, kissing down her neck.

“By keeping us here with you,” Sinister whispered against her ear, hand gliding down her front to dip into the waistband of the flowy pants she wore. “You are ensuring the continued survival of the multiverse.”

It was hard to argue with that. And hard to think when Strange was kissing her, coaxing her lips open so he could lick inside. And fuck her Defender was kissing up her bare back.

“Is it so terrible?” Strange pulled back to ask. “A life with the men who worship you, knowing that this life is keeping trillions upon trillions of lives safe?”

Sinister’s fingers busied themselves stroking through her wet folds, dipping in, and teasing.

“Oh, I suppose it’s just my burden to bear.”

They’re five men with the power of gods and yet she is the one who is worshipped.

[greenteaandtattoos]

Something that I loathe about Shippuden is how it portrays Sasuke and Naruto’s “relationship”. In the OG Naruto, through Jiraiya the show outright states that Sasuke and Naruto’s rivalry was unhealthy.

And yet... in Shippuden, the show portrays that Naruto’s obsession with Sasuke as a “power of friendship will save the day” thing. Sasuke doesn’t want to be saved, he says it outright, over and over, he says he’s tired of Naruto’s fixation with him. That alone is unhealthy, but Naruto just... ignores that and even says that if Sasuke would have to die, he would fight him so he could die with him and they could be friends in the afterlife.

What happened to “Until I become hokage, I will not die”? You know, the spiel he gave when he saved Tsunade, the future Hokage and person who healed Kakashi, Lee, and Sasuke, right before he finally accomplished the Rasengan for the first time, the very jutsu that matches Sasuke’s Chidori.

Sasuke tried to kill Sakura. He tried to kill Kakashi. He joined the organization that killed Jiraiya, Gaara, Kakashi. He planned to not just destroy the village that Naruto loves so much, right after Pain already destroyed it, but to slaughter every single person in it. Not just the elders responsible for the Uchiha Massacre, he wanted to kill the innocent people because “how dare they enjoy the peace that Itachi’s sacrificed everything to give them”.

Despite all of this... Naruto insists that they have a “special bond”. He insists that Sasuke “was the person who accepted him the most”, meanwhile Kakashi explains that Sasuke couldn’t understand why Naruto was getting so strong so fast, and he refused to acknowledge and accept him as an equal because he believed that Naruto’s growth diminishes his own.

Naruto says that he understands Sasuke because they’re both strong shinobi, but can he really? He can really understand Sasuke for trying to kill the people he cares about and destroy the village he loves? 

Naruto is prioritizing Sasuke’s life over anyone else’s. He would rather try to save Sasuke than kill him to protect everyone else. He acknowledged that Sasuke was extremely powerful, saw how he almost killed some of the strongest shinobi he knew, and decided that he would rather risk everyone else’s lives in order to try in “save him”, and would resort to fucking suicide so they could possibly be friends in the afterlife.

He completely disrespected the rest of his classmates’, his FRIENDS’ wishes to take care of Sasuke so that Naruto wouldn’t have to carry that burden anymore. Especially Sakura, who loved Sasuke, too. Her love for him was just as valid as Naruto’s, even if it started as a childish crush, and she chose to put it aside to deal with Sasuke as the rest of the world saw him: a threat. She saw him as a threat to the rest of the people she cared about, and was willing to push aside the hurt and love to strike him down to save the village and her loved ones.

But Naruto acts like his feelings for Sasuke are more important, are stronger, that his bond is more special than anyone else’s. She saw the bigger picture, saw the people who were still with her, saw their feelings, and decided that as both Sasuke and Naruto’s teammate, she had to take matters into her own hands so that no one else would be hurt. She was going to try and save Sasuke by killing him so no one else would get hurt because she loved both him and the others, and couldn’t bare to watch them all suffer. But Naruto acts like he’s doing everyone, especially Sakura, a favor by continuing to try and save Sasuke.

One of the worst is when Kakashi uses Sasuke’s hatred of Naruto as a motivation for Naruto to get stronger, and not in the “you’ve gotten so strong because you have to beat him”. It was in a “your hatred of him inspires him and is the reason he’s gotten so strong”.

I just... gah, I hate how Shippuden dealt with Sasuke. And don’t even get me started on how quickly the village just... accepted him back with no repercussions or questions asked. Just, “yep, good ‘ol Sasuke is back!”. It doesn’t matter if Sasuke decided to put himself into exile to redeem himself, the way the others reacted and responded so positively was absolutely ridiculous. 

[chloe-skywalker]

Scarred Freak - Billy Hargrove

Billy x Fem!reader (eventually)

Steve x Fem!reader friends

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,335

Summary: Billy notices y/n for the first time, but there are rumors about her that concern him so he asks Steve for some info.

Authors Note: I was thinking should I make a part 2 to this? Leave a comment below

Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

School was something Y/n liked at one point. But of course, there were bullies. Although she could normally get through it no problem, but ever since the whole upside-down thing happened. It was harder. Yeah, now she had some more friends and all but the bullying had gotten worse after her accident.

During the whole upside down and lab thing Y/n had with Steve and the party ran into some Demodogs. Protecting El Y/n jumped in front of her, which ended with her side being bitten into by all those thousands of teeth. She was able to hide it for a while, especially since it was dark out that helped. But eventually, Y/n had lost so much blood that she had collapsed. After rushing her to the hospital the doctors were able to save her life.

Y/n didn’t mind the scars that much, they showed she survived that night. But with all the rumors around town, the bullying just got worse. Sure Steve wasn’t a part of it no more. But his old asshole friends? They loved to taunt her. All the time.

An that’s exactly what happened every morning in the school parking lot, and today was no different. As she and Steve stepped out of their own cars next to eachother, the two normally carpooled and switched between whose car to take but Steve had to do some stuff after school so they didn’t today. As soon as they got out of their cars the two friends instantly heard snickering. Steve shook his head pissed while Y/n just rolled her eyes.

“Look there’s the scarred freak.” Tommy taunted as usual.

“Get some new material prick.” Y/n spat out towards the grade A jackass.

“Oh?  It speaks.” Carol joined in with a sinister looking smirk on her lips.

With that Steve had heard enough for one morning and stepped up in front of Y/n, effectively blocking her from his ex-friends and their insults. “Fuck off Carol, you to Tommy.”

Y/n grabbed onto his arm to hold him back, having noticed Steve’s anger rising. “Steve it’s fine. Let’s just leave. Come on.”

Steve gave into her pleading, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they headed towards the school. It made him feel like he was blocking her from any more crap being said. Leaving the assholes of Hawkins behind in the parking lot.

Billy had watched the entire scene play out in front of him. He didn’t want to add himself into it since he was trying to understand the situation before him. He didn’t understand what Tommy and Carol’s problem was with this Y/h/c-ed girl. Billy had never seen the girl before. Maybe once or twice. But what was running through Billy’s head now, why did they call her ‘scarred freak’? If he was being honest she was the most beautiful girl in all of Hawkins.

There was one way to find out. She seemed to know Steve pretty well. An with the way he seemed to get protective over her, he must know. And it just so happened they have gym together.

After their P.E. ended everyone hit the locker rooms to shower. Billy waited for Steve to get in and most of the others to leave before getting in the shower himself. “So what’s with the girl you were with this morning?”

Steve lifted his head with a raised brow confused from Billy’s question. “Y/n? What about her?”

Billy nodded. “Why do Tommy, Carol, and some others call her a ‘scarred freak’? I didn’t notice any scars.”

Steve sighed, debating on if he should tell the mullet-haired teen or not. Billy hadn’t taunted Y/n that morning and maybe if he knew would continue not to. “Y/n was in an accident a year ago. It happened in the woods. I was there, along with some others. She got attacked by something- an animal. It was…bad. Y/n almost died. She hid it for a while but once she lost too much blood she fell on unconscious. Full on blacked out. We rushed her to the hospital, the doctors were able to stitch her up and save her but it scarred. It’s pretty light but there’s a lot of it. They’re hidden along her torso, back with some on the top of her thighs and some across her arms. She normally keeps them covered. SHe’s not afraid to show them really, but with all the comments she gets from kids at school and sometimes around town. Sometimes she feels self-conscious.”

Billy stayed silent, intentionally listening to what Steve was telling him. Billy shook his head, letting out a harsh breath. “That’s some messed up shit.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It is. So maybe tell your asshole friends to knock it the fuck off.”

“They were your friends first Harrington.” Billy countered with his signature smirk.

“Hmmmhmmm, they were and Y/n was one of the people who showed me that their assholes. I mean I already knew that but she showed me that I didn’t need to keep them around. If you know what I mean.” Steve stated before turning off the water, getting out to get dressed. Leaving Billy with the words that had been exchanged.

Billy nodded even though he was alone in the shower now, mumbling. “I do.”

^     ^     ^

Of course, once Y/n and Steve exited the school the teasing continued in the parking lot. Y/n rolled her eye’s turning to look up at Steve. “Let’s just leave.” The more Tommy and Carol continued she could tell Steve was getting more and more annoyed. “Steve it’s not worth it.”

Even though Steve wanted to go over and knock the crap out of them he knew Y/n said what she said to calm him before he headed over there pissed. Steve sighed “You gonna be ok? I can stay if you want.”

Y/n shook her head. As much as she appreciated his offer she didn’t want to keep him from what he had to do. “I’ll be fine. I need to talk to Max about some stuff.”

He sighed not liking it but he did have to go and talk to the kids as soon as possible. “Fine. Call me later, k?”

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded letting the fluffy haired boy go. As she stood there Tommy kept up his comments. Y/n may not be bothered by her scars most of the time but with all comments sometimes she felt inscure about them. “Tommy, I swear if you say one word I’ll beat the crap out of you. And you know I can.”

“You touch him and I’ll call the cops.” Carol crossed her arms defensively with a sly smirk on her lips.

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest turning to fully face the nasty couple, now it was Y/n’s turn to smirk. “Do it, Carol. I know Hopper. I am good friends with his daughter as well. Who do you think he’ll believe or even side with?”

Tommy went to open his mouth when Billy decided to open his mouth. “Tommy I swear you open your fucking trap and I’ll run you over with my car.”

Tommy scoffed “Whatever man.”

With that Tommy and Carol left not feeling like they held the power anymore. Which left Y/n and Billy alone. Billy knew she could handle herself but after his conversation with Steve earlier, he felt like he wanted to know her, and maybe it was time to cut his so called friends out of his life.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Y/n spoke shuffling her feet around not looking at him. Why did the newest heartthrob of Hawkins Indiana suddenly want to defend her?

“I know.” Billy stated looking at her with a look that Y/n couldn’t decipher. But maybe this was the start of a new friendship or maybe even something more.

[papuhater]

Gotham Jervis getting male friend that he really get along well. After some time they both starts to mutually grow feelings and it's surprisly friend who makes first move.

"Jervis, I know that you're looking for Alice and me being guy automatically exclude me but I need to tell you... I really, REALLY like. Just, wanted you to know."

And please don't leave on cliffhanger, I might actually strangle you-

Boyfriend or boy who is a friend

pariring: gotham!jervis tetch x male!reader

a/n: the title's a joke due to the fact that i'm questioning if i'm bisexual leaning torwards women or a lesbian

summary: jervis gets a male friend and he gets the gay sickness (the author has it too and is planning to ask her girl-friend out ), and he has homophobia( not sm but internalized but he yells at the reader some shit) but it gets resolved

=) ok this man? he has never had anything romantic.

=) i just know it.

=) and you? you are his "collegue" in the life of crime, just a pawn to get alice,

=) why is he caring about you?

=) maybe it's that you don't betray him, maybe that you actually show care for him, or maybe you're his friend.

=) it's weird at first, but not used to hanging out or stuff agter heists, he is used to people leaving after getting what they wanted.

=) familiarity hits, and well, he stops thinking it too much, and just enjoying spending time with you, tea time, rhymes! and just sitting rambling. i feel he really like rambling about many things

=) and you would just stare at him with all the attention in the world, starry-eyed.

=) the jokes during heists began occurring more frequently, in one heist you almost died but he hypnotized the person behind the gun, he didn't even have to think about it, it was just jervis' instinct to protect you, suddenly, when you began your teasing about how he saved you so quickly, he just laughed it off and responded with a

"okay fine, i actually have some care for you."

'loosing you scared me to death.' he wanted to scream

=) jervis is confused.

=) suddenly small hugs that felt normal continued to feel normal but the warm rise in his cheeks became evident and he was confused and scared.

=) his mind began wondering if his alice could be you?

=) it could be you, but wouldn't it ruin your friendship?

=) he seemed lost in his thoughts, during tea time, you noticed that, and you asked if anything was wrong, and he just seemed more jumpy that his usual "paranoid" persona.

"No, uh, I'm fine."

"Dammit jervis, you aren't 'fine' you have been acting all weird, and not talking about it, you know you can talk to me if you want to."

and you reached to his shoulder, but he didn't know that , your hand got closer to him and he thought you were going to grab his hand and he quickly pulled his whole body off

"NO!" you flinched at the sound

"What's your problem?" you spat out

"Why were you going to touch my hand?"

"No! Jervis, jeez what's happening?"

"I dont know!" he threw his hands up "I'm not sure, you suddenly seem different every time I look at you! I feel confused about you! complexed!"

"why? what the hell?"

"BECAUSE I LIKE YOU."

=) and just like that, you could hear a pin drop in the room, when he dropped that bomb, he just remained quiet, with his flushed exhausted face, until jervis expected a reaction of you. you just remained stone cold;

'jervis....likes me back?'

=) while you were lost in yout thoughts, jervis left the room, quieter than usual.

=) when you finally became concious of his feelings, you stood up and looked for him everywhere, knowing that you fucked up big time. you found him sitting in the roof.

"Hey Jervis" He looked over to you, as if expecting something "I wanna talk about what happened-"

"I know you don't like me back, it was just-"

"But I do like you back, Jervis, I was scared you didn't."

=) so the cat was out of the bag, and well you both talked it out, and well, now you have a bf!!!

=) so handholding is necesary and also tea parties :)!

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[staystillgregory]

"Freddy's...a replacement?" Oh. That - that made more sense than he cared to admit, much more so than his suggestion of it being a spare endo. That also made it twice as horrifying. Why had they just left the earlier version to rot? Why had he been replaced, anyway? What a horrid fear, knowing you could be removed and replaced with someone like you in every way.

"Do me a favor, Cassie." He murmured, thinking of the implications with a shudder. Who knew Freddy's fear was founded? "Don't mention being a replacement to Freddy. Please. He's...had crises about it before."

The answer to his question changed the flow of conversation. She spoke, stating that they didn't hurt her, but hated him. His heart plummeted as the pieces fell together. Cassie was smart - smart enough to deduce something was up. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, holding a little tighter to his cousin's shoulder. He had wanted to save this for when they were safe, sitting in the bright lights of a hospital room. But that didn't seem meant to be.

He needed to come clean, now.

"Cassie...do you remember how for a while, there was a string of kids disappearing around here?" He began hesitantly. "Well, I was almost one of them. I...Before all this, I was homeless for over a year. I ran away from my last foster home after the abuse got bad." He had been missing for a while - she was bound to know that much already, but at least it gave some context. "It was midwinter, and I was cold and hungry, so I snuck into the Pizzaplex. I had done it before, so I knew I could find some decent pizza in the trash. I planned to leave before closing. But that didn't happen."

The frantic scramble, running from security. Terror from the murderous look in her eyes. Hiding within Freddy. The memories felt so fresh, even now. "I was an ideal target. No parents to know I was missing. So easy to make disappear." His voice was bitter on the last words. "I was locked in after hours. Every exit was somehow blocked." He took a deep, steadying breath, knowing damn well his next statement wouldn't be easy to hear.

"And the animatronics were hunting me down." For just a moment, Gregory stopped their steady pace, so that Cassie could see his proof. He bent down, pulling up his pant leg to show a ragged scar running on the side of his leg. "Monty's claws fucking hurt, by the way." Straightening up, he then raised his arm. "Chica did this one, I think. You would have never thought she had it in her."

He deliberately avoided showing Cassie any that Roxy had done. It felt far too cruel after the night she'd had. Carefully, Gregory began to walk again, continuing his tale. "It...it wasn't their fault. They had a virus, planted by the person causing the disappearances. But I didn't know that at the time. The only reason Freddy wasn't affected was because he booted up in safe mode after a malfunction on stage. That coincidence saved my life." There was a jarringly haunted look in Gregory's eyes, so out of place on his normally guarded features.

"I didn't want to die." So simple of a statement, yet so hard to say. He knew what was coming. Cassie was going to hate him for this, wasn't she? He had wrecked the animatronics she loved so much to save his own sorry skin. "I...God, I was so fucking scared, and angry that it had to be me. I was willing to do anything to make it out alive. I know it's a shitty excuse, but I thought 'They can be repaired, I can't.' Freddy didn't want me to do it, but..."

It was now or never. He needed to be honest. "I stole their parts and used them to upgrade Freddy so he could protect me. Chica's voice box, Monty's claws, and Roxy's eyes." This was somehow worse than the conversation he had with Freddy on the subject. Once, he had felt vindicated in their destruction. But after living with the bear for so long, it had sunk in how human these robots could be. He felt like a knife was twisting into his side, making him bleed the confession of the terrible things he had done. "I never thought they would just...abandon the animatronics. I thought they'd be fixed. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

[Gregory eased up, thanking her for the reassurance; Cassie was simply happy to hear him express his affection. That had always been difficult for him, so he and Freddy must have been close -- she was overjoyed at the idea that Freddy had taken the role of his guardian. It was deserved. Freddy was arguably the most considerate and compassionate animatronic in the bunch, so he'd make a good parent.]

[Alas, the cheery atmosphere couldn't last forever -- Gregory's expression fell as Cassie described the Freddy that she had encountered, and confirmed suspicions that she...really didn't want to think about. There were two Freddys. There had to be, if the one she'd encountered was such a stark contrast from Gregory's. But what did that mean...?]

[Gregory seemed to believe that it might be a spare endoskeleton with Freddy's casing, but that didn't make any sense. Why would the company do that? With her "insider knowledge," she knew how budget-conscious ( read: cheap ) the company could be. They wouldn't slap that casing on another endo unless they wanted Freddy out of the picture, and while she'd been around, that didn't really seem like a possibility.]

[She hadn't said a word, but Gregory apparently shared her sentiment. Having a second Freddy around made no sense. Not only that, but with two of them wandering around, the company would have had to do serious Disney-esque damage control if the secret ever got out. Cassie bit her lip; there was one solution that could possibly explain it, but the implication...]

❝ ...What if the Freddy I saw came first? ❞ [Cassie asked hesitantly. There had been a reason that she didn't really want to explore this idea.] ❝ You're right. Fazbear Entertainment wouldn't put Freddy's casing on an endo unless he was going to be replaced, but...maybe your Freddy is the replacement. I mean, it'd explain why the one I saw was in such bad shape...I thought it might be because of whatever happened to the Pizzaplex, but -- he looked so much worse than the others. ❞ [Or maybe he was just the scariest...but in either case, his condition lent credence to the idea that he was an older model.]

[...Poor Freddy. Both of them. She couldn't fathom how the animatronics felt when it came to their replacements; it must have hurt to know that you and your friends could be swapped at a moment's notice. Judging by how the animatronics had been abandoned, the company really didn't care about them. She wanted -- needed -- to come back for them. She couldn't leave them to rot.]

[Thankfully, Gregory changed the subject before she became too upset -- sadly, the tone of the conversation hadn't really changed. A bewildered look crossed her features as he alluded to how the animatronics had chased him down. They weren't like that -- she'd had a few scares, but they had never once gone out of their way to hurt her. The only time that Roxy had grabbed her was when...]

[..."Give me back my eyes." The plea had gripped her in the moment, coming from her favorite...and it still haunted her. Who'd taken her eyes? And...]

[...Come to think of it, Roxy had a prominent grudge against Gregory. Almost like -- like she knew him, beyond their encounters in the Pizzaplex. Every prompt she'd needed to use to lure Roxy was a pathetic cry from Gregory, and just before she deactivated those nodes back in Roxy Raceway, she recalled the wolf hearing Gregory's voice over her Roxy-talkie. She'd reacted violently, chasing down the "source" of the voice. Why was she so mad at him? What...what had he done?]

[Her confusion quickly turned to cynicism; she shot Gregory a nervous look, suddenly doubting his intentions yet again.]

❝ No, Gregory -- none of them came after me, not unless... ❞ [Unless that AR rabbit-thing prompted them to. That...was probably a bit too complicated to explain now, though. She shook her head.] ❝ Trust me, they're safe. They were all nice to me. But now that I think about it...they really don't seem to like you. Did...did you do something? ❞