#ahhh had sm fun with this one

[holyantenna]

Revon | for Cam

[booplesnotts-art]

Art trade with @marascomics !!

(that I might’ve got a little carried away on👁️👁️)

I had a lot of fun with this one and I always enjoy drawing our favourite mean deputy headmistress😌 thank you again!!🖤

Go to Mara’s account to see their beautiful half and then follow immediately cause her art gives me LIFE🖤🖤

[good-beanswrites]

Happy Valentine's Day @artsy-azure ! Here's your gift for the @milgram-valentines-exchange 💖

Fuuta x Minato (oc) ~ The first section takes place right after his T2 interrogation, and then skips ahead to a tiny post-milgram scene :3 I hope you enjoy!

Fuuta thought he would drown. Not sink into water or anything like that; he was worried the voices filling his mind would completely suffocate him. There were too many of them. Too many people, all of them knowing every dark corner of his mind, and shouting into it. It should have been impossible for one voice – one softer than all the rest – to reach him.

Then again, everything about that voice should have been impossible.

“Fuuta… Hey, Fuuta… Are you alright?”

He blinked. He scrambled over to the nearest wall. There were no visible openings in the cell, not a single imperfection across any of the surfaces, yet Milgram’s intercom system functioned just fine. Most days it would just deliver the ear-rattling bell to tell him the time. On bad days, it carried Es’ summons to the interrogation room for his extraction. On worse days, it carried Es’ summons to the courtroom for his verdict.

On the very best days, it would bring him the voice of Hoshizawa Minato.

(Though, seeing as he had just returned from a catastrophic extraction, he wasn’t sure what type of day it was yet.)

He tore his attention away from the chorus of judgements and insults. He pressed his shoulder against the wall, still unsure where the sound was coming from, but knowing it was nearby.

“I’m here,” he said, hushed. More than anything he wanted to yell and scream, but he would never risk it, now. Minato had gone through a hell of a lot to break into Milgram’s systems, and he wouldn’t let his big mouth ruin all that. It had already ruined just about everything else.

“How are you holding up?”

Fuuta pressed his lips together. “Any news on getting us out of here?” was all he said.

Hundreds of miles away (or perhaps next door – neither of them could really know), Minato’s fingers adjusted his headset.

“I’m still working on it. These things take time.” 

“I’m definitely gonna need it after today.” 

“Your interrogation… I know.”

Fuuta pulled his hood down tighter, tufts of ginger hair ruffling underneath. “How much did you see?” 

Minato’s eyes flicked over to another monitor. It displayed the files he’d gained access to a few hours prior. It would crush Fuuta to hear about yet another person peeking into his personal moments, so he opted for a non-answer.

“I don’t have cameras. I don’t see much at all.”

“Tch, I’m not a damn idiot, I know that! I meant, how much did you hear?”

“...Everything.” 

Fuuta squeezed his eye shut. He bit a curse back. There came silence.

Minato actually double checked some of his monitors, making sure they hadn’t been disconnected.

“So then, you know,” Fuuta said at last. “There’s no fucking way I’m getting forgiven this time around.”

“You can’t be so sure. The–”

“No one in their right mind would forgive me after that.” He winced, remembering his harsh cries at the end of the interrogation. What kind of accused murderer shouted “I’ll kill you” as their plea of innocence? When he wasn’t running his mouth with threats, he’d been pleading with Es like some kind of coward. And Minato has heard all of it. Fuuta could only imagine the horrors that the extraction held. Who could forgive him after they saw his anger, or worse, his pleasure? Who could ever look kindly on someone like that?

“I would.”

Fuuta’s eyes widened. He let himself sink further into the wall. A strangled laugh escaped him. He let his head hang down. No matter how much he wanted to protest, Minato was as honest as they come. If he said he forgave Fuuta, he meant it. 

“Yeah, like I said, no one in their right mind.”

Minato cracked a smile. 

“You don’t think I’m in my right mind?”

Fuuta scoffed. “You post pictures of clothes for a living. And in your free time, you plan impossible jailbreaks for murderers. Doesn’t sound quite sane to me.”

“Aw, come on. Do you think it’s impossible?” 

Minato was still smirking, ready for some more of their typical back and forth. Fuuta surprised him by pausing. 

“Well, it should be impossible. But…”

They’d been speaking for some time now. Whether it was quick comments when Es wasn’t around or long conversations into the night. Fuuta had seen many sides of him, and knew that he had what it took. He wasn’t like the vast majority of internet personalities – weak or needy or inexperienced. He’d proved himself time and time again. If anyone could pull this off, it would be Minato. 

“If it’s you… there’s a chance.”

“You’ve got that right. You can count on me, alright?”

Fuuta took a deep breath. The tightness of the uniform and the bandages seemed to lessen.

“Although,” Minato put on a falsely serious voice, “we’re gonna have a long talk when you get out… about that yellow jacket you own.”

“Haaah? What’s wrong with my jacket?’

“There are a hundred stylish ways to wear it and that was not one.”

“The fuck does that mean?” 

“You’ll be grateful when someone who ‘posts pictures of clothes for a living’ helps with your wardrobe.” 

Fuuta could feel his chest release even more. Minato spoke so easily about the future, as if it were something real and waiting for him. 

“As if I’d let you touch any of my outfits.”

“As if you could stop me!”

He took another breath. He smiled. No drowning today.

---

After checking the clock fourteen times, Fuuta thought once more couldn’t hurt. It was still two minutes to noon, just like the last few times he’d checked. His frequent checking hadn’t brought the train to the station any faster.

Minato had told him that he was safe. He’d said this meeting wasn’t that big of a risk. The dust had settled. He just had to relax. 

The announcement overhead signaled the next stop was his. It screeched into the station, a slight murmur rising as the doors opened onto a platform of moving people. 

Fuuta lowered his head. His eyepatch would surely draw attention to himself, so he kept his hood down and his mask up. He just needed to make it to the station entrance. 

He made his way around stiff businessmen and sticky children. He tried to shuffle around a young man, but he seemed to step further into Fuuta’s path. Giving the stranger a quick glance, he started to mumble something to squeeze past. 

“Fuuta,” the man said, gaping in surprise. “It’s me.”

He inhaled sharply.

It was only three words, but it was enough to recognize his voice from a thousand conversations. 

Fuuta’s eye widened as he took Minato in. It was strange to finally see his face. Finally, here was the person he’d spent hours talking to. The person he’d spent days passing the time with. The person he’d spent nights falling for. Here was the one who had saved his life, in more ways than he could count.

His first observation was, fuck, this guy is way outta my league. His next was, he’s shorter than I was expecting. Then, gah, I’m probably shorter than he was expecting. He was in the middle of realizing, he has the nicest smile I think I’ve ever seen, when Minato crushed him in a hug.

Fuuta returned the embrace. His arms tightened around Minato. He was real. He was here. Fuuta’s hands grasped at his clothes and his hair. He was unable to control a laugh bubbling up inside of him. 

“You did it. My god, you did it.”

He breathed into Minato’s shoulder. His chest shook with some laughter, some tears. 

For a moment wondered if people would notice the heartfelt reunion outside of the train, then he realized he didn’t care in the slightest. 

Minato was laughing along with him in that beautiful, familiar voice of his. No more crackling speakers or hidden intercoms – he spoke right into his ear, hair tickling his cheek. Fuuta could have stayed forever in his arms, just like that. All that mattered was he felt safe. At last, he felt happy.

Talk about impossible. 

[jils-things]

MEMORY DAY CRUMB 🔥🔥🔥 we got too sillie on call 🔥🔥🔥🔥 LOOK AT THEMMMMMMMM

also a bonus aether boy bebi just cuzzzz 🥺🥺

[keii]

As always, I am obsessed with JoRo. Been mostly drawing music AU stuff!

[sysig]

Sizing chart of cute: One Size Fits All (Patreon)

[lovings4turn]

becca, my love. i saw that your blurb requests are open, so can i request oscar with "taking off their makeup when they're too tired"? thank you!

ᯓ★  𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 — 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

ahhh nora lovely thank you sm for sending this in !!! adore writing for oscar so thank you for giving me the opportunity to 🤭🤭 this ended up being longer than i expected but what can i say i got carried away !!! hope you like this lovely

indistinct dialogue washes over you as your ears tune in to the sound of oscar’s heartbeat, the sound much more preferable to the drama of the characters currently on the screen in front of you. 

curled against your boyfriend’s chest, the glow of the television washing over you both and bathing you in a fuzzy, low light, you find it hard to keep your eyes open for longer than a minute at a time. 

oscar is just so warm, the fabric of his hoodie against your skin so soft, and you had woken up disgustingly early that morning for an eight am class that preceded a long study session at the library. so, it’s no surprise that your exhaustion is quickly catching up to you, a lion stalking its prey.

since his gaze has been resting on you rather than the random sit-com for the past ten minutes, oscar is quick to notice the drowsiness consuming your features. 

“let’s get you to bed, eh?” oscar asks, patting your side twice with the tips of his fingers to prompt you to stand.

“i’m not even that tired,” you protest, words coming out in a low whine thanks to your desperation to remain in the warm embrace of oscar’s arms.

“tell that to your eyes, sweetheart. they’re practically closed.”

almost on cue, you lift your hand to rub at your tired eyes before you stop abruptly, loose fist hovering just in front of your face. a frustrated noise escapes you, and your head falls back against oscar’s chest at the realisation.

“i still have to take my makeup off.”

oscar fixes you with a look of amused pity. though he’s clearly sympathetic to your plight, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your theatrics somewhat entertaining.

strong arms wrap around your waist, and oscar gently helps you to your feet, sending you off to bed with the promise that he’ll be right behind you.

curiosity picks at your mind, but you’re far too tired to argue or ask questions. your body operates on autopilot as it leads you down the hall to your bedroom, and you flop down onto the soft mattress without hesitation.

never had you been more thankful at oscar’s insistence that you wear his clothes as much as possible: already dressed in one of his old t-shirts and some pyjama shorts, getting changed into something cosier was not a problem you would have to tackle tonight.

oscar appears a few minutes later, and it seems that he’s brought the entirety of your skincare shelf with him. countless bottles and tubs are piled up in his arms, threatening to spill over as he fumbles towards the bed. 

with furrowed brows, oscar drops the bundle of products onto your comforter and lets out a breath, beginning to survey the many different items sitting in front of him. “right then, let’s see,” he mumbles, picking up one product at a time and scanning the labels with such an intensity that, had you the energy, you would have teased him for.

“moisturiser, no. facial scrub, no. hyaluronic aci- what even is this stuff?”

you can’t help it. a laugh bubbles up in your throat, and though your eyes are heavy with sleep, oscar can see the way that the crinkle slightly at the intensity of your smile.

as fun as it is to listen to oscar grow increasingly confused with each skincare product he scrutinises, you decide it’s best to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “purple bottle, babe. might wanna grab some cotton pads, too. next to where you grabbed everything else from.”

oscar follows your instructions instantly, setting your makeup remover off to the side before he scoops the other products up into his arms once more, heading to return them to their rightful home in your bathroom. he soon returns triumphant, holding up the packet of cotton pads in his left hand as though it’s one of his racing trophies.

idiot, you think fondly.

soon, he’s sitting beside you, tilting your face upwards towards him with two fingers. the movement is tender, and you can’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

with a level of care you imagine someone would reserve for a newborn, oscar begins to swipe away at your makeup, putting a lot of effort into not tugging at your skin.

every so often, he speaks, questions of “feel alright?” and “not hurting you, am i?” filling the otherwise peaceful silence. 

each time your answer is the same: a slight shake of the head with a reassuring hum. you’re convinced that oscar could never be anything but tender with you, and this only adds to your hypothesis. 

a few seconds pass, and you can no longer feel oscar wiping at your face. your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of oscar admiring you with an adoring expression.

a light flush dusts the top of his cheekbones, and his lips are pulled up into a foolish, love-sick grin. he doesn’t shy away when he realises he’s been caught, only moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “now,” he starts, voice playful. “wanna tell me what the next step is, babe?”

[1onelypoet]

sweet tooth (for you) pt2 || lando norris smau

a/n: part 2 is doneeeee! thank u guys for all the reblogs n likes n comments, i love u all sm ❤️ it literally makes my day omg. anyways, idk if i'm losing it but this part feels shorter than part1 but who knows. also it does sorta jump around a bit in time so if ur confused abt the timeline n stuff hopefully the dates will help? 😭 part 3 will (hopefully) come before valentines day -- also i might do a vday special or smth idk -- but i'm trying for sooner 💪 i did not mean to write this much lol but anyways have an amazing day/night ❤️❤️

pairing: lando norris x singer! ex-leclerc! reader

fc: reneé rapp

warnings: cursing

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @kapsylia, @i-wish-this-was-me

disclaimer: this is completely fictional. no hate meant towards anyone mentioned.

part one, part three, part four

charles_leclerc August 24

liked by scuderiaferrari, manonsworld, pierregasly and others

tagged arthur_leclerc, leclerc_pascale, joris__trouche, hugomicallef, riccardoberetta, guizou02, nico_noaro, thomascretot, traininginexcellencemc

charles_leclerc Fun times 🙃

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arthur_leclerc ❤️

user1 weird way to propose but okay!

user2 honey he's gonna cheat on u three years in 😔 ↳ user3 with ur friend too...

joris__trouche Con i ragazzi 🔥 trans: With the boys

user4 glad your summer break was fun 💕

user5 ummmm... anyways stream tummy hurts by y/n!

yourusername August 24

liked by leclerc_pascale, lilymhe, danielricciardo and others

tagged sethmyers

yourusername thanks for having me :)

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leclerc_pascale Belle ❤️

yourusername merci ❤️

user6 post break up glow is real

lilymhe cutie

yourusername no u ↳ lilymhe no, no u

yourbff mother.

user7 he fumbled a baddie fr 🔥🔥

f1gossip August 25

liked by manonsworld, user8, f1gossipgirl and others

tagged manonsworld, mlnmarta

f1gossip Manon spotted in the paddock today

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manonsworld ❤️❤️

user8 NAHHHH

user9 this is not the serve you think it is, babe...

user10 the dress 😍😍

user11 y/n did it better.

user12 she's really wasting no time

user13 no fr just popped out of nowhere

user14 who's that next to her?

user15 marta, the wife one one of charles's friends ↳ user14 ahhh okay ty

yourusername added to their story August 25

seen by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, manonsworld and others

f1gossipgirl August 25

liked by f1gossip, user16, user17 and others

f1gossipgirl Charles and his girlfriend, Manon, were allegedly spotted by the paparazzi in Corsica on August 7th and 12th. However, some fans noticed that the photos taken on the 12th had a resemblance to a photo featured in Charles' annual summer break photo dump on Instagram.

Most, if not all, of the photos on Instagram were taken by Antoine Truchet (Charles' friend and a professional photographer who has shot with Charles many times in the past). We this as on August 21, Antoine posted a series of photos, with a caption saying "corsica with CL". Some of the photos posted here were also posted on Charles' Instagram, further confirming Antoine's presence on this trip. It can also be assumed Antoine took most, if not all, of these photos as he is not actually featured in any of the pictures, which is strange as he is quite close with Charles and his friends. This all makes sense when you assume that Antoine was the one taking all the photos. Also, the photos are clearly taken by a professional.

So now we've established that Antoine, a professional photographer, was there in Corsica, and he likely took all of the photos posted by Charles.

Going back to the photo that sparked recognition, it can be seen that in the picture Charles is wearing a white button-down shirt, and is sitting on a green-and-white striped beach chair. Similarly, in the photos taken by the paparazzi on the 12th (not the ones in the water, but the ones sitting in the chair with Manon), Charles is seen wearing a white button-down as he sits in a green-and-white striped beach chair. These photos were taken on the same day.

All of this has brought fans to speculate that Charles was the one who notified the paparazzi of his presence, which would explain how the photos were even taken (the paparazzi are good, but are they that good..?). It would seem that Charles decided to have a little "photoshoot" and, as his summer break is probably busy, he wanted to get it done in one day. Expose the new girlfriend and take quality pictures for fans!

Many are still confused in regards to the reasoning behind him tipping off the paparazzi and exposing his infidelity.

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user17 lol why can't it be a coincidence

user18 THISSS!!! not everything is a conspiracy!!! ↳ f1gossipgirl this is a gossip channel babes... it's what we do...

user19 why would he even do this?

user20 celebs do weird shit all the time 🤷‍♀️

user21 it could've been for PR? ↳ user22 I mean it's not like Charles/Ferrari is lacking attention ↳ user21 that's true

user23 im so confused why does antoine being there mean he called the paps?? 😭😭

f1gossipgirl it's just weird that his photographer was there the day he gets papped. and we've seen this happen before (*cough* Becky and Carlos *cough*)

yourusername August 31

liked by theestallion, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername music video for pretty girls out sep 5th 0:00 CET

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yourbff try not to say mother challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

yourusername marry me. ↳ yourbff bet.

spotify we're ready 🥴

caradelevingne ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

user24 damn we're being fed WELL

scarlett it was great working with you ☺️

yourusername tysm scar!!! i loved working w u too 🫶

yourusername September 5

liked by caradelevingne, yourbff, instagram and others

tagged caradelevingne, scarlett

yourusername out now ;)

huge thank u to everyone who made this possible 🩷

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user25 I love women so much

rachelzegler oh u ate that up

landonorris slay 😋

user26 HELP LANDO WHAT ↳ user27 slay 😋

instagram she's an icon, she's a legend, and she IS the moment!!!!

user28 now come on now!!!

landonorris September 17

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, team_quadrant and others

tagged carlossainz55

landonorris Carlando podium let's gooooo

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yourusername ate

user29 I agree!!

mclaren What a weekend 🔥🔥

team_quadrant LFGGGGGG

oscarpiastri 🏆🙌

user30 oscar using emojis is my roman empire

user31 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

September 20

yourusername added to their story September 24

seen by landonorris, anasainzvdec, pierregasly and others

y/nupdates September 25

liked by f1gossip, user32, user33 and others

tagged yourusername

y/nupdates Y/n with a fan at the Suzuka Circuit yesterday

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user34 STOP SHES SO GORGEOUS

user35 nah imagine going to a gp AND seeing y/n. I would die.

user36 ok but going to the gp is such a girlboss move

user37 LITERALLY

user38 she's out here winning the idgaf war

user39 do we know if she saw Charles there?

user40 i don't think so

October 11

[yongvillage]

hi slaterrr <3 i love ur works, ur talented bb, i had a thought or two about dejun if ur interested

xiaojun who’s a loser and keeps to himself mostly, nerdy nd gets picked on, but jerks off to your pics when he’s alone, stealing ur sweatshirt that u left in class and stroking himself in his room to the scent of u… stuff like that :3 i just know he’ll be giddy when he gets his hands on u too

(ps, do u do emoji anons? if so, could i be 🩰 anon? if not, that’s perfectly fine too xx)

AHHH hii anon, im so happy u like my works this ask means sm to me tyyyy 🥲💘

also i have been thinking abt doing emoji anons so congrats !!! ur the first one hehe 🩰

this one turned out a little longer than usual but i js had too much fun with this ask LOL i love loser dejun

ⓘ nerd!xiaojun, perversion, mating press, unprotected sex

you'd always see loser!xiaojun near your locker, peeking over his textbooks as he would frantically push his glasses up and look away nervously when you walked by.

he wasn't the loud or outgoing type, instead, he liked to watch from a distance. he'd savor the moment, admiring how effortlessly beautiful you were before the inevitable happened. before the same group of jocks would come by and knock his belongings out of his hands, yelling out ludicrous and malicious insults as they walked away. you'd always turn your back before you saw, though, paying him no mind as he scrambled to pick up his countless books.

thankfully, you only had one class with him, grateful that you didn't have to spend too much time around that creep. you'd heard rumors, about how he supposedly stalked girls around school and spied through their windows. they sounded a little foolish, but it was better to be safe than sorry, so you kept your distance.

as class finished up, you quickly packed all your things in your backpack, getting out of your seat, and you were in such a rush you forgot your sweatshirt. it sat idly on your desk, and xiaojun almost jumped out of excitement as he saw you exit the room for good, eyeing you, and then the sweatshirt.

he stalled for a bit, taking extra long to pack up his own things as he waited for everyone to pour out. once he felt the coast was clear, he snatched the sweatshirt, the scent of you already making him slightly delirious. he tripped on his own feet as he hastily ran out of the classroom, eager to go home.

he'd waste no time, shutting his bedroom door as he sat at his desk, pulling his pants down all the way to his ankles. his dick was flushed and leaking copious amounts of precum, and xiaojun wondered what you'd say, or what you'd do, if you were here. he pictured you watching him stroke his hard cock as he pressed your sweatshirt tightly against his nose, greedily inhaling the smell of your perfume, bodywash, and everything else your assumedly smoothe and supple skin had to offer his senses.

xiaojun swore he'd came in less than 30 seconds, the quickest he'd ever finished. but he didn't stop there, he didn't stop for the next three hours until his unknowing mother called him down for dinner.

-

it wasn't until two weeks later in the library when your friends dared you to talk to him, proclaiming that he'd "probably piss his pants the minute you came in a 6 feet radius of him." you laughed, shrugging their comments off as you casually walked up to him. his head was buried in a textbook, his hand hurriedly scratching down notes.

"hey."

xiaojun didn't hear you, seemingly too focused on his studying. you tapped him on the shoulder twice.

"hello?"

his head shot up, and his face turned red and sweaty in an instant as he became frenzied, his hands scattering across the table as he began shutting books and putting stuff away in his backpack. he stood up, clasping his hands in front of his crotch.

"h-hi," he pushed up his glasses, yet his eyes never once met yours. you almost felt bad, ignoring your friend's giggling behind you.

suddenly an idea came over you, smirking as you spoke, "would you wanna come over to my place tonight?"

xiaojun's wide eyes finally looked up at your face, before quickly looking back down again.

"f-for what? um, if you'd like homework answers i-i could just message them to you."

you chuckled, "no, i meant, like, have sex."

xiaojun chokes, going into a full blown cough attack. you stared patiently as his coughs died down and he looked back at you, droplets of sweat beginning to form on his temples and neck.

"w-what?"

"i mean, unless you don't want to, that's totally fine too," you tested, bititng back a smile as you watched how xiaojun's eyes grew even wider.

"no!" he yelled suddenly, a few other people in the library whipping their heads around to shush the two of you.

"so, i guess that's a yes?" you asked coyly

xiaojun nodded frantically, "y-yeah, i would like to have, um..."

"it's okay, you can say it."

"s-sex. i would like to have sex with you."

you gave him a proud smile, winking once before whispering in his ear, "i'll meet you outside the library after school. you can walk me to your house."

-

the walk to xiaojun’s house was amusing for you, and painful for xiaojun. you had told him to lead the way, and it was relatively silent, with xiaojun periodically lifting his eyes to look at you and seeing that you were already looking at him, thriving off of his shyness. he held his textbooks tightly over his crotch, hiding how hard he was.

a million scenarios played out in his head of what he would do to you once you two arrived, but when the time actually came, he just stood there. xiaojun had never felt like such a stranger in his own room.

you plopped onto the edge of his bed, eyeing him with your legs crossed as you leaned back on your hands.

as soon as you gave him permission to touch you though, it was like letting a dog out of it’s cage. xiaojun quickly got started on undoing his pants, pulling them down to his knees.

you suppressed a moan at the sight, bringing a hand down to rub at your clothed clit.

“fuck, just let me finger myself first, need to get myself stretched out for you,” you spoke in a sultry tone, sliding your shorts down your legs and spreading your legs open as he resumed to touch yourself.

xiaojun watched in awe, and you stared curiously as he hadn’t seemed to touch himself, not even once.

you giggled airily, “it’s okay, you can touch yourself.”

xiaojun shook his head quickly, “c-can’t.”

you looked up at him, your middle and index finger inching towards your wet hole as you started fingering yourself slowly.

“ah, and why’s that?” you moaned through your words, your fingers picking up the pace.

“i-i’ll cum too quick,” xiaojun gritted out, his hands balling up at his sides. you laughed at his self restraint, being quickly interrupted by a moan as you tipped your head back when your fingers curled inside you.

“mm, s-so well behaved,” you panted, peeking at xiaojun. your words and actions clearly took a toll on him, his red and sweaty face bringing you near your orgasm.

it only took a few more seconds before you came. your hips spasmed and legs trembled as you gave your clit one last, soothing rub, before reaching up to tug on xiaojun’s cock.

he grunts, his hands hesitantly resting on your knees as you did all the work, aligning his leaky tip to your entrance. xiaojun lost all self control in that moment, just the simple touch of your hot hole causing his hips to slam forward, knocking the wind out of you.

“shit,” he whispers out, almost strangled as he stared down at where the two of you met.

“m-move, xiaojun, please,” you panted out, hands coming to grip onto the back of your knees.

your words set off like a trigger to a gun in xiaojun’s mind, his hands suddenly slapping yours away and putting you into a mating press, his hips snapping into you at a brutal pace.

you looked up at xiaojun’s face, beads of sweat traveling down his cheeks and sideburns. the both of you were breatheless, hyperventilating at xiaojun’s newfound, animalistic thrusts.

“fuck, s-slow.. slow down, ah!” you moaned, your nails ripping at xiaojun’s navy sheets. his dick poked you in all the right places, and his crushing weight left you choking on your moans.

it looked like xiaojun wanted to say something, but all that came out was incoherent murmurs of curses and proclamations of how good you felt. his glasses fogged up and began sliding down his face, one of his hands coming off of the back of your knee to quickly slide them back up to the top of his nose bridge.

“you think about this? think about fucking me like this?” you managed to choke out, a lazy smile plastered on your face as you brought your hands up to xiaojun’s shoulders, nails raking up and down his back.

“fuck, s-so much,” he panted, mouth hanging open as his hips crashed onto the back of your thighs, hands grasping and kneading the plush of them, “y-you don’ even know…”

you whimpered at xiaojun’s words, your stomach beginning to twist and turn as your moans got especially loud, signaling that you were close.

xiaojun’s stutters and spurs, the only words you were able to make out being cum. you hummed contentedly.

“please let me cum in you, p-please, need to, need to cum i-inside,” he rambled unintelligibly, his thrusts growing sloppy and untimed.

you nodded wordlessly, too weak and spent to give him a spoken answer. you were on birth control anyway, and the thought of xiaojun pulling out now made you unsatisfied.

suddenly, all at once, both you and xiaojun cum at the same time. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arching off of the bed as your limbs trembled. pants and moans echoed throughout his room, and you whined at the sticky, hot cum flooding your cunt. but before you had any time to recover, xiaojun turns you over on your stomach, his ruthless pace picking back up, giving you no time to even breathe.

a black, stained sweater at the front of xiaojun’s bed catches your eye, and you can’t shake off the feeling of how familiar it looked.

@yongvillage | ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[moonpetrichors-blog]

AHHH HIHII!! i luv ur work it literally has me twirling my hair and shi, i was wondering if u could write a neteyam x navin reader where the reader is like playing with tuk and neteyam realizes he was in love with reader on the spot the whole time and he could imagine like a future with the reader aswell?? TYSM I LOVE UR WRITING SM

Something About You

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Crush Blush, Longing Look, Tuk is The Best Wingman, Good With Kids

Warnings: None

One afternoon, Neteyam had to watch over his youngest sister. You insisted on accompanying him, and he agreed, not minding the extra help. As you played with Tuk, the thought crossed Neteyam's mind that suddenly, you might just be the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

EIOEWGHOEH EVERYTIME I SEE ASKS LIKE THIS I START GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LMAOO 😭😭 this idea is super lovely, and tysm for the support, happy new years btw ♥♥ also if u look at the title, I based it off the eyedress song 🤭 italics are Neteyam’s thoughts btw!!

* ˚ ✦ 1075 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [01/01/23] ❞  

Neteyam sighed as he followed you and his sister. His parents had requested him to watch after her today, and you had overheard their chat. You asked Neteyam if you could accompany him because you enjoyed playing with Tuk, and he concurred. He's never been sure what his little sister liked to do, so your assistance was greatly appreciated.

Tuk squeezed your hand as you guided her towards the woods. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the foliage was soaking up the warmth. The trees were golden in hue, and you eventually found a large expanse of grass for you and Tuk to romp in.

Neteyam selected a tree to relax against, and settled comfortably while you and Tuk traveled only a little further away. He looked at you both, laughing and spinning around the woodland.

Neteyam was frightened for a moment and nearly leapt out of his seat when you lifted up Tuk to toss her into the air, but he calmed down when he saw how effortlessly you retrieved her again. He cannot help but be concerned about his siblings' welfare, but he knows you're excellent with children. You'd never do anything that would harm them.

Tuk's laugh resonated through the treetops as she pleaded with you to throw her again. She appeared to be having fun, but you suddenly realized that Neteyam must be bored sitting alone and observing.

You caught Tuk once more and gently lowered her on the grass. “Neteyam, why don’t you come here and play with us?”

He shook his head, and smiled. “I’m okay.”

You shrugged, and continued to play with his little sister.

...

You ultimately grew tired of tossing Tuk into the air, so you devised a brilliant plan.

“Tuk, why don’t I decorate your braids?”

She seemed perplexed for a moment, before you clarified that you were going to pick out some flowers to put in her hair. Her eyes sparkled at the thought, and she, of course, answered yes.

Tuk was seated in your lap as you meticulously ornamented her braids with an assortment of various, colorful flowers you had gathered. Neteyam maintained his gaze from a distance, and he began to grin to himself. He thought to himself that you were wonderful with kids, and his smile only grew even wider when Tuk gazed into her reflection in a nearby waterhole.

She giggled with delight at her enhanced appearance. “Thank you so much Y/N!”

Because she was so adorable, you pinched her cheeks.

Tuk scrunched up her nose, recoiling from the action. “Let me put flowers in your braids too!”

You agreed with a nod and sat down in front of her. You failed to notice Neteyam's intense stare at you as Tuk adorned your tresses with the leftover blossoms. The sunlight cascaded over you so sweetly that you gleamed like a gift from Eywa herself. Neteyam couldn't believe he'd never noted how stunning you were, and the feeling was further accentuated by the flowers in your hair. He massaged his burning cheeks with his palm; was he blushing?

Tuk's amusement at using you as her personal doll unabated, and the one idea orbiting Neteyam's short-circuiting mind, aside from how you looked straight out of his dreams, was how natural you were with children. Would you behave similarly with your children together, too?

Wait, what?

He had to mentally scold himself for thinking such a thing. Even though it felt improper to envisage it with you because you were only a friend, he couldn't peel the gaze of burning desire away from you. His brain begged him to suppress these feelings, but his heart and blazing cheeks revealed a different story.

His heart stopped. When you decided to turn around, you met his eyes that refused to look away. Neteyam sucked in a breath, fearful for a moment that you could see into his thoughts. He released a sigh of relief as you merely cracked a smile towards him, not knowing how he was really staring at you.

Then another terrifying thought had crossed his mind. Had he always liked you?

You veered away from Tuk to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the waterhole as Neteyam battled with himself internally. You clasped your hands together, praising Tuk on her work, and hugged her warmly. She was scooped up again and twirled around.

You sidled up to Neteyam after you had laid Tuk down, scratching the back of your neck. The sunshine from behind your figure seeped into his vision as he stared up at you through his thick lashes. He didn't mind that he could only see you.

You looked at him sheepishly. “How do I look?”

He snapped out of his reverie, and stuttered for a moment before registering that you asked him a question.

“So pretty.”

As you looked straight at him stupidly, he threw his palm over his mouth. You were both matching blushes as you were suddenly feeling blisteringly hot. Tuk giggled from behind you, her eyes narrowed at her brother.

It didn't help that she was whispering 'Neteyam's got a cruushh...'

Damn that child.

You turned around to hear what she said, and out of your peripheral vision, Neteyam lifted his fist at her, mouthing for her to quit speaking. When your gaze met hers you arched an eyebrow, but she had already closed her mouth and remained serious. She cracked an innocent smile at you.

You looked back at Neteyam, and decided that all of a sudden you had very, very important obligations to attend to at that moment.

“Well, I think I should get home now, haha!”

Neteyam stood up abruptly, laughing nervously. He was chanting in his head to speak confidently.

He stuttered instead. “Oh, me too, haha! Me and Tuk should be meeting with our parents again.”

You couldn't stop giggling uncontrollably like idiots, and while you were heading in opposite directions, you unintentionally bonked heads. He groaned in pain as he touched the tender region on his forehead, but apologized profusely when he noticed that you were also afflicted.

You couldn't bear how mortified you were, so you let out a torrent of apologies and hurried out of the woodland as swiftly as you could. You couldn't believe Neteyam had declared you were pretty!

In your wake, you left behind a trail of flowers. Neteyam discreetly grabbed and pocketed one. You know, for safekeeping.

There was just something about you.

[afteraftercare]

You’ll beg me to come sext you PART ONE !!

g!p billie

Authors note: ahhh i missed u cuties sm so happy to be writing again. doing 2 parts cs i didnt wanna keep u waiting ! also idk who requested this but here u go !

Warnings: not proof read

billie releasing her third studio album  came with lots of interviews and press she had to do. her team decided to send billie to korea to do some press there, so of course billie brought her girlfriend asia. even though billies schedule was super packed and probably wouldn’t have a lot of time to see her girlfriend, she still wanted to bring her.

even though asia agreed to coming along, and knew she wouldn’t be able to see billie all too much, she hated staying in the hotel all day by herself. they had been here for nearly a week now and all asia did was stay in the hotel bed all day. occasionally getting out of their room and walking around the hotel but nothing fun whatsoever. she didn't care what they were even doing, asia just wanted to be with billie. and obviously she understood that if billie had the choice then billie would be here with her too, but it didn't take away the fact that asia was still hurt.

today was an even harder day for her. while being trapped in the hotel room she decided to clean out her camera roll and while doing that she found an old photo she took of billie. it was a photo she took after they had fucked. 

billie was smothered in hickys. her iconic grin being seen on her face but being slightly cut off. it made asia miss her and also made her uncomfortably horny. not having her girlfriend here to get her off sucked. and yes she could just jack off and get it over with, but she wanted to fuck with billie. she wanted to get fucked good tonight.

asia went into her suitcase and shuffled her clothes around until she found what she was looking for. her pink ruffled lingerie set that she brought just in case. in case of something like this. 

she began to slip away her comfy clothes and slip on the set. she looked at herself in the mirror taking in her curves and smiled. that’s when she took out her phone.

billie was currently waiting for her 2nd interview of the day. it was 4:20 and it didn’t start until 4:30 so she still had some time. they sat her down in an empty white boring room. that’s when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. she groaned, thinking she put her phone on dnd. she took it out and checked it. 

ASIA 💝 SENT AN IMESSAGE

a smile creeping on her face. billie clicked on the message, being greeted to a video. the thumbnail was a shot of the hotel room floor. billie furrowed her eyebrows and clicked on the video. the video began to play and that’s when asia got into screen. it cut to her filming herself in the mirror, her body in frame showing the set she was wearing. billie immediately started squirming in her seat, she could already feel herself get hard. her face began to heat up. “fuck.” billie said under her breath. 

billie didn’t even give asia the enjoyment of replying. she left the girl on read. that was enough to tell asian what she had gotten herself into. 

[elsiewritesss]

Hii , can you do a bf Vinnie x gf reader. Where reader is colorblind and tells the house about how much she hates it, a few days later they surprise her with those colorblind glasses?

wait i love this sm ahhh!!!

pairing: bf vinnie x gf reader

warnings: none just fluff

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Babe, I need help.” Y/N whined as she stood in front of the closet looking at her clothes.

“Yeah baby?” Vinnie asked as he walked behind her, hands going to her waist as she let out a sigh.

“What color is this shirt?” She asked, pulling the hanger off the rack as she held it in front of her.

“It’s purple with little blue flowers.” Vinnie responded as she slowly nodded her head, sniffling lightly as she tossed the shirt on the dresser next to her.

Vinnie furrowed his eyebrows as he turned her around, concern filling his face as he saw the few tears travel down her face.

“What’s wrong love?” He asked softly, bringing his hands up to carefully wipe the wetness off her cheeks.

“I just hate this.” She breathed out. When she was 6, she realized she couldn’t see certain colors such as purple, green, and sometimes blue. The colors all looked the same to her. After going to the eye doctor, they confirmed she was colorblind.

When Vinnie and her started dating last year, she felt embarrassed because of it, not knowing how to tell him. He only found out after she picked up what she thought was a green balloon for Jett’s party, but it ended up being a purple one.

From then on she always had Vinnie to tell her the difference between the colors and he was always more than willing to help his girlfriend out.

“I know. But I promise you I’m always here to help you. I love you.” He spoke, gliding his thumb over her cheekbone as he placed his lips to her forehead.

“I love you too.” Y/N whispered back, letting her eyes flutter close at the small action.

~

“So you can’t see the color of my shirt right now?” Jordan asked as Y/N shook her head.

“Okay what color do you think it is?” Evan leaned forward as Vinnie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Guys enough please.” He spoke, not wanting his girlfriend to get upset or feel like they’re making fun of her.

“It’s okay Vin.” Y/N assured, rubbing her hand over his arm that was wrapped around her neck loosely.

“To me it looks a mixture of blue and gray. Your shirt, the plant over there, and Hera’s mouse toy all look the same color.” Y/N explained, pointing to Jordan’s light purple shirt, the plant by the window, and Hera’s blue little mouse toy.

“Interesting. I thought people who were colorblind only saw gray.” Reggie spoke up, making Y/N shake her head.

“No, I can see other colors. Like I know Vinnie’s shirt is red.” She pointed out, turning to give her boyfriend a small smile.

“Have you ever looked into those glasses they sell? I heard about them a few years ago.” Evan asked as he leaned back in his chair.

“I have. But they’re just too expensive. Plus I have Vinnie here always helping me.” Vinnie smiled, leaning down to plant a kiss on her head.

~

Vinnie paced back and forth around the living room of his apartment. He was waiting for Y/N to get home from work so she could open the gift he got her.

He wasn’t sure she would like it and it made him incredibly nervous.

Suddenly the front door opened making Vinnie stop his anxious pacing as he saw Y/N walk in, looking beautiful as always.

“Hey!” She smiled at him, setting her purse down on the counter before leaning down to pick Hera up as she came running up to Y/N.

“Hi…” Vinnie spoke, slowly walking over to her.

“You okay?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, noticing the way he slowly walked.

“Mhm!” He responded, giving her a slight smile as he leaned down and pecked her lips.

“I got you something. Now…please don’t hate me for this.” Vinnie hesitantly spoke, grabbing the small box from the couch before handing it to her.

“Okay? I don’t think I could ever hate you though.” Y/N said, looking up at him. Vinnie just nodded his head as he gestured to the box.

Y/N stood behind the counter, using a kitchen knife to slice the tape. When she opened the box, her eyes met the smaller white box. She took it out, flipping it over as her eyes scanned over the words.

Enchroma Glasses

Y/N blinked her eyes a few times, making sure she was reading it right before her vision got slightly blurry from her eyes filled up with tears.

“Vin…I…oh my god.” She spoke out softly as she shook her head.

Vinnie walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her middle as she leaned into him.

“Why?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Because, you deserve to see all the colors in the world. Plus if I’m not here you can still tell the difference between colors.” He explained, watching as the tears fell down her face as the words left his mouth. He reached up and wiped her cheeks softly, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.” She spoke, looking into his brown eyes, a color she was always blessed to see.

“I love you too. Come on, try them on.” He patted her hip slightly as she turned towards the box, opening it up to see the pair of glasses inside. The lenses had a slight blue tint to them and Y/N let out a breath before putting them on.

She let her eyes adjust as she looked around the apartment.

“Okay. What color is this?” Vinnie asked, holding up the light blue throw pillow on the couch.

“Blue.” She spoke, Vinnie’s eyes getting bright as he smiled.

“Yes. Um…okay what about this one?” He grabbed her purple water bottle from the counter.

“Purple!”

“Yeah baby!” Y/N felt so overjoyed as she ran to her boyfriend and attacked him with a hug.

“Thank you.” She spoke, her voice laced with sincerity.

“You’re so welcome, my love.” Vinnie responded, leaning down as he connected their lips together.

“Can we go on a walk so I can look at everything?” She asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Vinnie smiled wide.

“Of course. Let’s go!” He said, holding out his hand for her to take as they walked around the city, Y/N looking at all the colors she couldn’t see before.

~

ahhh my first actual post! i hope you all liked it!!!

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

XI. I only have eyes for you.

parts: previously plot: it's the day of the bachelor auction. who's taking bruce home? pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: 18+ toward the end (MDNI), surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief violence, sexual content (implied penetration, light dry humping), alcohol consumption, reader is going through it so i personally think they're allowed to be a bit messy, vicki vale slander... a little bit, gcpd slander a lot a bit. words: 8.8k. a/n: it has been a HOT minute and I totally meant to have this out in time for thanksgiving but alas. big girl has big girl responsibilities. regardless, I wanted to say thank you sm for 3k followers!!! ahhh!!! that's so many. love u all

“…Judge Mathers thankfully suffered only minor injuries, and while the culprit has yet to be apprehended, police say they’re confident the investigation will progress in the coming days. Further investigation into just how Mathers was attacked is also ongoing. In other news, Bridge Industries stock has fallen…”

The door to your office swings open, startling you, but Emily is rushing in with arms too full to notice. She shuts the door just as quickly as she’d thrown it open, and as you put the TV on mute, she begins to rattle off frantically, “Are you as excited for tonight as I am?”

If by excited, she meant “stomach turning in knots”, then she’d be right on the money. You ignore her question to point at the plastic bags draping over her arms, “What’s that?”

“With your help? My outfit for tonight.” You watch her gather them both by their hangers and unzip them, revealing two dresses in sparkly red and silky navy. The lighting in your office really fails to do them justice. “What’s Bruce’s favorite color?”

There is—unequivocally—only one answer. “Black.” Her eyelids droop at that, holding the red dress to her chest forlornly, and you rush to amend the situation. “I mean… but who really cares?”

That was not what you meant to say.

What you’d meant to say was that Bruce’s favorite color didn’t matter because Emily ought to dress for herself, and that you didn’t even have the marbles to think about any of this when the news had so thoroughly soured your mood.

Said mood was already fragile by the time you’d had your morning coffee, and in between paperwork and your own thoughts, you’d turned on WGOT for background chatter. It had been just your luck that the very first thing you’d seen was a report on the attempted murder of a local judge. As a Gotham native, these kinds of things don’t easily faze you, but the name had.

Her face had meant nothing to you when it appeared on screen, stern and clear, and her name would’ve meant just as much had you not been poring over Dimitri’s case recently. You never attended Dimitri’s trial, had heard only what Russo and co. had relayed to you, so you’d never had the chance to meet Judge Lydia Mathers or watch as she ruled on the fate of the arrested Vipers. The police weren’t saying who did it, but you knew what was left unsaid. It could be no coincidence.

What threw you for a loop was how it happened. There was no confirmation on the where, and the when being “sometime last night” didn’t narrow anything down. It was sloppy still—that much was evident, she was still alive—but it was also close. Way too close.

As far as you knew, anyone involved in your case that was still in Gotham had been informed beforehand of the threat, and she had the bodyguards to rival your own. How did someone doped up on venom get close enough to almost kill her?

You feel your desk vibrate as you receive a text, your heart speeding up, but you only get a quick glimpse before Emily draws you back in again. “I care. Look, I get that this is your life now and all of this utterly bores you, but this is fun for me. I want to enjoy this, and I want to look good doing it. Just… indulge me, okay? And don’t make fun of me for it.”

The twinge of sadness in her voice makes you wince. It wasn’t Emily’s fault you’d been having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day since the night of Bruce’s party. It also wasn’t her fault that you had yet to be honest about why you really had cops and guards on your tail now, why you couldn’t meet at yours for drinks after work, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that you’d told her the night Dimitri attacked you, you'd actually been targeted by the gang of the guy who took you hostage all those weeks ago. As far as she knew, Mr. Wayne was just taking very, very good care of you.

You’d invited her to this auction to have a fun night out, something you hadn’t had in a while, and if you had to gather some marbles to make it so, you’d do it.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Emily. That came out wrong. I just meant that it shouldn’t matter what he likes because you’re going to look amazing in anything. And if Bruce has eyes, he’ll love how you look in the red.”

She doesn’t look quite as convinced. You see her look over the dress, scrutinizing.

You circle your desk, taking the dresses from her and setting them over the back of a chair. “How about this? I take a picture of both dresses, send them to Bruce, and ask which one he likes more. Won’t even mention you.”

Her eyes widen like saucers. “No! No. Don’t. It’s fine, you’re right. I’ll wear what I want, and I’ll look great in it.” You reach up to pinch Emily’s cheek and she bats at you with a laugh, ducking away to steal her dresses back. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Probably what I wore to our New Year’s party last year.”

“Saucy. You’re picking me up at eight, right?”

“Our ride will be courtesy of Mr. Wayne.”

“Must be nice having a driver and an entourage. Bruce is awfully generous for a patient.”

You think about the paperwork you’d been slogging through before you’d turned on the news, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that by the end of today, Bruce would no longer be your patient anymore.

You wave her goodbye, and when the door shuts behind her, you snatch up your phone to read the message you’d received.

Detective Gordon Can we talk?

Your shoulders slump. You'd hoped it was Bruce. You hadn't heard from him since last night, and after the news, you'd expected... well... anything. Really.

“I saw the news,” You start before James has even breathed a greeting into the phone. “I’m just glad she survived.”

There’s a pause on the other end. It’s long enough that your blood pressure spikes in response, and you assume the worst. “I… actually didn’t call to talk about Mathers. Have you been to your apartment recently?”

“What? No. What happened?”

“There’s been a break-in.”

It’s not the senseless destruction you’d been dreading. Your apartment had looked worse back in residency during finals week. You’d expected overturned couches and pictures knocked off walls, but if it hadn’t been for your very well-documented alibi, no one would’ve guessed there’d been a break-in.

It is clear, however—from the drawers thrown open about your apartment—that someone had been looking for something.

“So, again: the noise started around eleven this morning, and Ms. Fletcher says she came up to check on you since she wasn’t expecting you back without stopping by first-“

“And I was right.” Judith affirms from beside you, clutching her purse with conviction.

The cop who’d been debriefing you narrows his eyes, but otherwise doesn’t comment on the interruption. “Right. So Ms. Fletcher came to investigate. Knocked on the door, nobody answered. She used her copy of your key to get in, looked around and noticed things didn’t look right, called your name, and then saw someone rush past her out of the apartment before she could get a good look at their face. Mr. Fitz next door says he heard someone throwing open cabinet doors just before Ms. Fletcher says she arrived.”

You gnaw the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting over the mugs you’d left drying by the sink. They’re untouched, but the dish towels in the drawer beneath them have been rifled through to hell. “Yeah, the walls are thin in the bathroom. I’m always careful about that.”

“I know Ms. Fletcher said she didn’t see ‘em take anything, but it could’ve been something small. Something they could fit in their pocket or the bag they were carrying. Jewelry, cash, sensitive documents maybe.”

Dimitri didn’t give a shit about any of that, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have left a witness alive if he could help it. If anyone could even possibly identify him, let alone a little old lady, Judith wouldn’t be standing next to you today.

But that left you with more baffling culprits to consider.

You turn to Judith, "Did they look like they were part of any gang?”

Judith shakes her head. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her memo pad, showing you her neat recollection of the intruder. She’d made a marked list: young, wearing a shoulder bag, with nothing in their hands. Short, dark hair. Skinny build. Nervous. The description didn’t exactly strike you as someone looking to hurt you.

Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you, both members of your detail chatting with each other in hushed voices. They don’t do a good job of hiding what they’re saying, and as you listen in, you hear one of them complain about this being a “waste of time”.

You bristle. You catch the cop’s eye, recognizing him as one of the cops working your detail at the hospital the other day, and he turns to survey your living room instead.

James is sidling up to you in the next second, having done his own assessment of the place before you’d arrived. “Your bookshelves got a little rearranging, but nothing destroyed. You wanna take a look?”

You follow the detective through your apartment, poking through everywhere you’d left something even vaguely important, but all the valuables you hadn’t taken to Wayne Tower seemed to be perfectly intact here. You were more miffed about your underwear being strewn about now that that was clear. When you reach your bedroom, the one place void of any cops, you grab some of them off the floor and begin to fold them back into the drawer.

“Could it have been a… I don’t know, a pervert? Could’ve been looking to steal a pair of these.”

“Perverts know where to look. They wouldn’t ransack every drawer just for a pair of underwear.” James’ brow twitches. “At least we know it's not Dimitri. He'd have come here himself. But this? Whatever our guy was looking for, they knew you wouldn’t leave it in plain sight. It’s just… sloppy.”

You scratch your head, hoping some clue would reveal itself the longer you looked. A muddy footprint, a bloody knife, a syringe. Something. It was relieving not to see the last one, at least.

You glance around your room, at the drawers thrown open. You think about the front door (locked, Judith had to use her key) and how, if you didn’t want anyone to know what you were doing, you wouldn’t force your way in. You’d be quiet, pick a lock, put everything back where you found it. But if you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you'd be desperate. You'd make mistakes.

You feel James watch you from where you’re crouched on the ground, tucking away the last of your clothes into the drawer. You notice him knocking his pen repeatedly against his kneecap. “So, Mathers.”

You glance up at James. “It was him, wasn’t it?” James nods, solemn. “Where did it even happen? There’s no way he could’ve gotten into Bristol—let alone a guarded mansion—without getting caught.”

“She wasn’t in Bristol.”

“So, what? The courthouse? Her office?” You slam your drawer shut, drawing attention from the cops outside your bedroom door.

James notices. He turns and shuts the door, sealing you off from the rest of the apartment, and comes to take a seat on the edge of your unmade bed. There’s a severity to him all of a sudden. “It happened at the Iceberg Lounge.”

You’d heard things about the Iceberg Lounge. Loud, dark, dirty. As exclusive as any other shitty nightclub in Gotham. Somewhere a guy like Dimitri could slip into easily if he wasn't mid-high. “He’s attacking in broad daylight now? Then he… he doesn’t care if he’s caught. He’s losing it. He’s-“

“It wasn’t broad daylight, either. The lounge is one thing but there’s another layer to it, a club beneath the club for people like… like Gil Colson. 44 Below. It’s high-profile, hard to get into, a safe place to do dirty business. It’s where he found Mathers.”

Your mind reels. You remembered Gil Colson. You found him quite hard to forget. “He found her there? How?”

“Impersonated a waiter, maybe. Could've known someone who could get him in. All we know is that he couldn’t have been on venom at the time. He would've been tweakin', there’s no way he could’ve gotten in without someone noticing and those exclusive type joints don't really like the look of venom. He planned this out.”

“…Why was she there?”

James glances at your closed door, as if worried someone might be pressed up against it, listening. “I can't say much yet, but if we're right, Dimitri's only one of many kids like him who've been screwed over by Mathers.”

“We, meaning…” You trail off, and James nods once. “He wasn’t- I haven’t heard from him since last night.”

“Knowing him, he's probably looking into it right now.” James rises to his feet, then holds a hand out to help you up. “Until then, don’t go anywhere alone. This is heat Dimitri wasn't prepared for, which either means he’ll hide like before or he’ll be desperate to finish the job. And please, for the love of God, don’t talk to any more press.”

Your eyes flick up to James’ as soon as “press” slips from his lips.

You shoot up from the ground, rushing back into the living room where Judith’s reprimanding the cops from earlier. The second you breeze past her, she spins, reaching for your arm. “There you are. Where’s Mr. Gordon? These young men were complaining about—”

You know what they were complaining about. You almost—almost—unleash the mounting anger inside you onto the both of them, but that would be a waste. “They can stay here for all I care. I need to go.”

Both cops look about ready to protest, but Judith beats them to it. “Go where? What if whoever did this is waiting for you? What if they try to hurt you? What if-“

“She can try. I’m sure someone will get it on camera.”

Your detail doesn’t abandon you like you hoped, but they can barely keep up as you barrel through the doors of the Gazette, nearly mowing down an intern on the way inside.

There are rows of desks on either side of the newsroom, lined up against each other with computer screens illuminating the faces of tens of reporters. You scan each row, each wired and restless face, in the hopes of catching sight of Vicki Vale.

You’re about halfway through the room when someone catches you by the arm, barring you further entry.

She’s small, but her razor-sharp stare is enough to freeze you in your tracks. For now. “Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down, a swirl of curiosity laced within the stiffness of her tone. Her badge hangs against her chest, and you see the word "editor" printed beneath her name. Perhaps she wanted to know what story you were about to tell.

“I’m looking for Vicki Vale.”

She isn’t dumb. The way she straightens at Vicki’s name, the disdainful way you say it, means you've told her everything she needs to know about you. You feel her grip tighten around your upper arm and you know she’s going to make this difficult. “Is she expecting you?”

“It’d be stupid of her not to.”

You don’t think she knows. Her nose crinkles at that, and when she feels you begin to resist her, she scrambles to keep you in place, “Vicki’s busy—“

You don’t need to hear the rest of what she has to say, knocking into her shoulder as you shove past her. If Vicki was busy, you’d free up her schedule.

You turn a corner and there’s a long hallway of offices on either side of you. You begin reading each door’s placard for her name, your patience thinning as the bustle of keyboard clacks and voices crescendo. You almost don’t pick up on her voice at first, a shrill and nervous thing through the crack of a door to your left. You shove it open before you give it a second thought.

And there is Vicki, a once-neat bun falling apart as she levels that same French-tipped fingernail at a stranger on the other side of her desk. They both turn to you in shock.

You don’t immediately notice it, seeing only red with Vicki, but you take in the stranger’s dark buzzed hair, slim cheeks, and… messenger bag. There’s a lanyard hanging from their neck with a smiling badge just like the one Vicki flashed you the other day. Their name is… something. You’re too furious to read it.

You beeline for Vicki’s neck.

She sputters when you take hold of the collar of her suit jacket, shoving her up against the wall where her journalism degree sways on the nail, threatening to slip and shatter against the floor. You hold her there. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Her lips part, pleas and excuses pathetically falling flat at your feet. You’ve never seen her scared, and something buried deep inside you preens for just a second. She tries to stutter something out, but it’s nothing discernible, nothing proper.

The stranger—who you’re certain now is her intern—grabs at your arm to pull you away, but you shove them off, holding Vicki steady. You hear the editor from before too, shouting something from the door to the office. You shake Vicki again, “You’ll do anything for a story, right? Including breaking into my home?”

“It’s not—” Vicki gasps, grasping at your hand. “I didn’t!”

“She didn’t, it was me! It was my idea!” The intern tugs on you again. “I swear, she… Ms. Vale told me to look into you but she never told me to go that far, it was all my idea. Please.”

Through your anger, you inspect the kid’s face and... yeah, to your utter despair, you feel certain they’re telling the truth.

They look more beaten up about it than you expected. It saps nearly all the rage right out of you, leaving you deflated but still boiling under the skin. Your hands slacken and Vicki inches off the wall a little bit, freezing when your eyes cut to her, and she holds her own hands up in surrender. “I was… I was just telling the kid off when you came in. Honest.”

After a few moments of catching your breath, you motion to the intern’s bag. “You didn’t steal anything off me, did you?”

“No,” they stutter, “no, I wasn’t… I just wanted to see if there was something… a lead to go off of. And then the old lady saw me, so I bolted.”

Vicki huffs. “I don’t know where he got the idea, but it wasn’t from me. I have more integrity than that.”

The woman at the door watches on with rage almost comparable to yours, and you wonder if Vicki is actually telling the truth or saving face. You spin to face Vicki again and she winces. “I’d think about what kind of example I'm setting if the kid thought this was even remotely okay. Don’t come near me again unless you want me to really knock some sense into you.”

You release her, and it takes a little more composure than you thought not to send her reeling into the file cabinet next to you.

One of your detail is hovering outside of her office when you come out, barely meeting your eyes as you make your way back out into the newsroom. He follows dutifully to the door, stretching to hold it open for you as you stomp out into the street.

Bruce’s guard is waiting by his car when you approach, going to open the door for you, and as you go to duck inside, the cop sidles up to you with a wobbly smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you, doc.” He jests.

You’ve got one foot in the car, one hand on the roof, and you really can’t help it when you look him in the face and spit out: “Fuck you.”

“Jesus. What is your life these days?”

The horrified look Emily gives you affirms your decision to pregame in the car, taking a swig from her flask on the way to the venue. “This isn’t even the worst thing to happen to me this week.”

It comes out before you have a chance to stop it, and the way Emily perks up makes your heart stop. After the night you were attacked by Dimitri, you had been extra careful about what you tell her. You wished you could say it wasn’t because you didn’t trust her with your past, but every time Alex’s name sat heavy on the tip of your tongue, you could not bring yourself to confess.

From the day those records had been sealed, you had done your best not to talk about it. Your past was always glazed over with vague stories of teenage-typical rebellion, Alex’s life omitted from your own as if you hadn’t seen it snuffed out right in front of you. It was easier that way, you figured. You promised you would never go back to that life, and you couldn’t if it never existed.

But like all wounds left untreated, the infection spread and spread beneath the surface until you could ignore it no longer. Until Dimitri came along to force it back open.

You hadn’t confided in anyone like you did Bruce. Bruce, who you still hadn’t heard from all day.

“Did something else happen?”

Your thumb strokes the polished steel of her flask and, after a few seconds of deliberating, you respond. “Bruce fired me today.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re shitting me. Today? When?”

You take another swig, sinking back into the leather seat. “This morning. I signed the papers first thing.”

"That's crazy. You’re an amazing doctor. And you both got along so well! Why—“ Emily frowns, cutting herself off.

“It wasn’t anything personal. After I was attacked again by that gang and Vicki found me out, we both thought he should find a more… exclusive doctor. For his own privacy and safety.” The lies come easy, and you’re drinking down the bitter feeling until the flask starts feeling light. “He’s letting me borrow his guards until they catch the guy who attacked me the other night, at least."

Emily watches you from the corner of your eye and you get the feeling she has something she wants to ask, but she settles on an impressed whistle. “Wow. He’s… really generous. How is he still single? He's gotta be a playboy, be honest.”

Should you even tell her he wouldn't be single after tonight? You remember Bruce's promise to introduce you as his date, and your stomach flips. You glance at her. “Answering that could technically be a HIPAA violation, so...”

She slaps your shoulder, but the way she tucks her face into her hair tells you everything you need to know.

Bruce is... nowhere to be seen.

You try not to make it seem like you’re looking for him, but after networking for a half-hour, your stomach turns at every black suit that squeezes by. You’d even gotten desperate enough to message the… Bat-Phone?—You hadn’t asked if that was what he wanted you to call it—but there was no response. It didn’t help that you’d spotted Vicki Vale five minutes ago, skulking through the crowd but keeping a wide berth from you. You supposed it was the singular mercy she could grant you. Her intern was, unsurprisingly, not in tow.

When you did introduce yourself, you introduced yourself as you—the general surgeon, a representative on behalf of Gotham General—and kept whatever small talk you could about Bruce to a minimum. Batman, however…

“Honest to God, I don’t know what else it’ll take. Does he need to stop a bus of orphans from driving off a bridge? All anyone has to say these days is that if he were any good, the city would be safer by now. Rome wasn't built in a day!” Your opinionated companion is the mother of one of the bachelors tonight. She’d proudly declared her son the most eligible: a 6’1 firefighter who’d worked his way out of Crown Point and had graced the GCFD’s firefighter calendar as Mr. December four years in a row. She even had pictures to show you, painstakingly scrolling through her smartphone that looked like she’d just pulled it out of the box.

She’d taken up the seat next to you after drinks were served, and had no intention of moving any time soon.

“People are fed up,” you reply, watching guests laugh and take photos with Mr. December by the open stage, “after that Riddler guy flooded the city, it was like a wake up call. People realize they have to rely on a stranger to keep them safe. Not the GCPD. Just someone who cares.”

Felicia—that was her name, and it took a great deal to remember it after she’d thrown it at you so haphazardly—rolls her eyes. “Well I, for one, am glad someone cares. If they didn't, you wouldn't be here and neither would I.” Her hand closes around yours and you feel a disgusting ache. It's the same ache you feel when Judith fusses over you: affection that was freely given.

The auction eventually starts, and while you try not to make a habit of it, you begin checking both phones under the table every so often for something. At one point, Emily accuses you of checking up on a partner she doesn't know about. That gets you to keep your hands to yourself for the first half of the night.

It's at least to your relief that Mr. December lives up to the hype.

He’s charming and cuddly, a real mama’s boy, and the bids go flying without further ado. He goes for a nice sum to a handsome man in a velvet suit, and Felicia leaves when they do.

The next few bachelors go by with varying levels of excitement, but with each bid, you feel yourself getting antsier. You sneak a peek at both phones again, but there’s still no response.

You start to expect him not to show up all, or to have called in an understudy to fill in for him while he scaled rooftops. You’d kill him if he left you hanging after all this, after he insisted you come. After he told you he’d introduce you as his real date. After he expedited that contract termination to the literal day of—

“You okay? You keep shaking your leg.”

Emily’s voice brings you back to. Your eyes had been burning holes into Dr. Dreamy in the lab coat, but you hadn’t processed anything about him in your frustration. You still your legs, trying not to flush with embarrassment, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just been a long day.”

Her brows pinch. “Is... whoever you're waiting to hear from being a problem? Do we need to head outside for a breather?”

“And miss your shot at Bruce? No way.”

The worry in her eyes doesn’t go away, but you don’t miss the little bit of relief she lets slip through.

Dr. Dreamy comes and goes, and it's getting closer to the end of the night with no sign of Bruce. The others at your table theorize they might be saving him for last. You check your phone every minute now, the incessant nagging at the back of your mind growing more prominent as the hour stretches on. You start to wonder if he's scaling those rooftops at all, or if he's bleeding out in an alleyway with no one to care. Perhaps he had been for hours, wilting away in silence, while you sat in this silly outfit at this silly auction waiting for him to show.

Minutes drag. The fifth bachelor takes the stage. Bids are placed. The fifth bachelor goes off with a pair of friends.

The auctioneer takes to the mic, and Bruce's name sets off a ringing in your ears. There's excited applause. Emily hoots and hollers. You hold your breath waiting for him to come out, to just put your nervous thoughts to rest.

You wait. And wait. And wait.

The smile on the auctioneer's face slips some. He looks off to stage left, mouthing something to someone behind the curtain. Applause turns to murmurs, and the jazz band that'd been playing low in the background picks up the volume. You look down at your phone one last time, at the messages left unanswered. The auctioneer laughs into the mic, "Sorry about that, folks. It seems our sixth bachelor is running a little late—"

You slip out of your seat, rushing down the aisle between rows of confused guests, the flip phone nearly crushed in your iron grip as you begin to dial the only number it knows.

You make it to the double doors at the back of the convention hall, both ushers on either side of the exit moving to open them for you, and as the phone begins to ring against your ear (heart thumping in tandem), that's when you hear it.

The audience is so loud that you can't hear the ringing or the thumping anymore. The auctioneer's voice just barely peaks over the raucous jazz band. You turn, one foot across the threshold, and see him center stage.

You almost want him to look pitiful. You want his hair to be drenched from the rain, suit askew, bloody knuckles and coal still clinging to his eyelashes: the very image of late and sorry and embarrassed for making you wait for him. But he's not. He's breathless, sure, but he looks less like he missed his train and more like he'd been having a few at the open bar. His suit is crisp, his hair neatly slick with one strand delicately—stylishly, infuriatingly—dipping into his eye. He smiles in apology at the crowd and his docility is not like the kind he displayed at the mayor's party, insincere as it had been.

And it overwhelms you that you feel, above the frustration… relieved.

You realize your phone is still ringing and the ushers are waiting for you to make a decision, so you end the call and head back to your seat where Emily immediately pounces on you. "Is everything okay? You almost missed him."

You tuck the flip phone away and put on a smile.

"And that, gentlepeople, is what we call being fashionably late." The auctioneer gets a round of laughter out of the crowd for that one. Even Bruce chuckles good-naturedly. "I almost had to step in for you myself, Bruce!"

"You are quite the catch." The crowd laughs harder, flattering him, already enraptured in his spell. You seek out his hands but he keeps them tucked politely behind his back.

"Oh, I disagree. No offense to our other fabulous bachelors, but I think I can confidently say you're the one we've all been waiting for. Am I right?" Emily stands in applause, whooping with her hands cupped around her lips. The edge from waiting for Bruce to show ebbs as you watch her. "Before we start the bidding, we ask all our bachelors to tell us a little bit about themselves. So, Bruce, what's the exclusive? What makes you one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors?"

Bruce looks out into the crowd, eyes sweeping over... everyone that isn't seated at your table. A grin plays at his lips, "I was told by our generous sponsor that I was alarmingly handsome, but those were his words, not mine."

"Oh, yes. Alarmingly handsome, alarmingly rich, and you even give to charity. But besides the obvious," the auctioneer leans in, brandishing a friendly smile, "What else can our bidders know? To help them make the tough decision to bid on you, of course."

"Well... I enjoy the rain and watching the sunset above the city."

"Above the city! Are we talking spontaneous helicopter rides here? Because if that isn't romantic, I don't know what is." Bruce doesn't clarify. He continues to grin, though it feels more private this time. Your finger twitches against your thigh. "What about any secret talents you can show us?"

Bruce thinks for a moment. You watch him straighten up, and without moving any closer to the auctioneer, you watch him remove one of his hands from behind his back. In it is a key ring that looks wholly unfamiliar to you. Bruce holds it up to the light, letting them plink! plink! plink! against each other as he dangles them before the auctioneer. "Do quick fingers count?" You watch the auctioneer's eyes widen, and though he laughs, it's tinged with a nervous air.

The auctioneer snatches the key ring from Bruce and stuffs it into his pocket, and the crowd is laughing so loudly that you barely hear him ask Bruce when he'd had the chance to swipe them. Bruce does not answer. That forces a shocked laugh out of you.

"Right, well, I'd be worried about you taking my car for a spin, but I'd be more impressed if you got it to start." You notice the auctioneer placing a little more distance between himself and Bruce as he continues, "One last question before we start the bidding: Bruce, what's your idea of a perfect date night?"

He really thinks about this one. You buzz, and so does Emily. You don't know why you're so interested to know. "A bit cliche, but I enjoy a quiet night in. Cooking together, listening to a record, enjoying each other's company. I've never been the fancy type. It means the most to me if it's just... us. No one else."

You sit up in your seat, and Bruce's eyes flicker near you. Past you. As if on purpose. You feel Emily rest her hand on your knee and you see her starstruck, eyes twinkling, but before you can see if Bruce is looking back, they're moving onto the next question.

You don't hear it. You see smiling mouths, the rumble of laughter on the breeze. Stage lights blink off his eyes, off his teeth as they shine at the crowd.

"A quiet night in. Cooking together..." It was cliche. Entirely unoriginal. You'd done it before, as had the majority of the dating population. It was simple, not fussy. Not special.

And yet.

It had not been long since you bumped shoulders with Bruce in his very own kitchen, cooking together, fingers colliding in the sudsy sink as you dried dishes and poured wine. The way lovers did, or the way almost lovers would.

The auctioneer quiets down the swoons that roll through the room at... whatever Bruce had said. "Alright, I think everyone's had enough of me tonight. Let's do what we came here to do, folks! We'll start the bidding at—"

Paddles soar into the air before the first number is spoken, and you're overwhelmed by the shouting overlapping as bidders fight to place highest. Emily is jumping out of her seat to be on top every time, and as the number steadily grows, your mind is still reeling.

You grip the fork on your plate, dinner having gone cold an hour and a half ago. You dig the prongs into the flesh of an uneaten brussel sprout as the bids begin to thin out, Emily rising above them all.

But you hear the last number and the sudden silence beside you. You look up to see Emily teetering, hesitant, as an elegant woman across the way stands with her paddle triumphantly in the air. The auctioneer asks for a higher bid, and your stomach twists at the quiet. Emily is not raising her hand.

"Going once..."

You turn your head to her, seeing the dejection in her eyes.

"Going twice..."

Bruce's smile is statuesque.

You grab Emily's paddle and jump to your feet, doubling the bid.

The elegant woman stutters on a retort, floored by the jump in number, and seems to weigh the cons of one-upping you. Your bid goes once, goes twice, and she settles back down into her seat.

The auctioneer whistles loud. "Sold! To the... lovely lady in red and her friend."

Bruce finally looks at you.

"So, just to confirm, you'll be the one paying the bid for number 26?"

You sign off the check with a flourish, ignoring the scary amount of zeros tacked onto it. “Yep.”

“And you understand the date is only valid for the name attached to the bid number? In this case, Emily Madison.”

“100%.”

The woman you hand the check to looks it over a few times, and you’d be offended if you hadn’t written down the absurd number yourself. Finally satisfied, she smiles at you, “Thank you. This will feed a lot of families this holiday season.”

It would, and it would make looking at your bank account later sting a little less.

You find Emily at the front of the stage, posing with Bruce for pictures, and the smile on her face warms you up enough that you almost—almost—ignore that recurring, uneasy feeling in your stomach.

As if she could sense you, Emily turns and finds you in the crowd, eagerly waving you over between photos. You think the meek hand you put up will be enough to deter her, but she continues to wave so fervently that it catches the attention of everyone else. You slip onto stage beside her just as Bruce's eyes flit over to you.

After two more pictures, Emily locks her arm against your side, "You are the best."

You glance up at Bruce to find him already staring at you, the stage lights casting a warm honey glow against the halo of his hair. It angers you how good he looks right now. If you were right and he'd just come off a Bat shift before getting here, you would actually be furious. "I'm sure Bruce would have been beside himself if you didn't win, especially after inviting you personally."

He nods, placing a hand on Emily's bare arm, and you watch her short-circuit in real time. "It's true. Although, I will say, that last bid was a shock. For a second, I thought..." Bruce trails off, cutting his eyes to you.

"I get enough of you at work." You almost say home instead. "Sir."

Emily snorts. Bruce's eyes flash, but all he does is grunt.

You watch him turn fully to Emily, "The organizers are the ones who finalize time and place, so I'll eagerly await our next meeting. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Dr. Madison." And, in a rather rakish move, goes to kiss her knuckles in a gentle bow. When his fingers curl around hers, you see the skin of his knuckles unbroken.

You can't help yourself. The second he pulls away, you snatch his hand in yours and shake it firmly, catching the both of them off guard. "Thanks for inviting us, Mr. Wayne. I can't wait to hear all about what you cook together." You press your thumb into his skin and swipe it across the back of his hand before walking away, a flustered Emily trailing after you a few paces behind.

On the way out, you rub your thumb against a dark, pressed napkin. It comes away with a cream smear.

"Is that-"

"It's me." You drop your things by the front door, shutting and locking it soon after. "No need to kick the door down."

Judith sighs through the phone. "What did Mr. Gordon say? Is it safe for you to be back?"

"The punk that broke in was some reporter's intern and he got quite the talking to, he won't be back. I'm just grabbing some stuff before I take off." You balance your phone between your shoulder on the way to the kitchen pantry. "And my detail's right outside. They'll come in if they hear anything."

"Do you want company?"

Your heart breaks a little bit. You know you ought to say yes; you hadn't had much time alone with her since you'd left, and you already felt terrible for up and leaving her by herself, but the last thing you want is to be around anyone. "No... no. I have to run soon, anyway. I don't want you to make the trip. Plus it's late."

It was late. It was nearing midnight, if your microwave could be trusted.

"That's why I offered, child."

"We can do lunch sometime instead."

You hear Judith pause on the other end, can feel her weighing the pros and cons of arguing further with you, but eventually she relents. "Alright. Be safe. Don't be stupid."

You hang up soon after, and another glance at your phone lets you know that Emily had made it home safe. You shoot off a goodnight text and set it aside, letting yourself lean into the sink-side with the full weight of the day on your shoulders.

The memory of Vicki's intern makes you wince. Vicki makes you wince. Your mind barely brushes over the topic of Dimitri and Judge Mathers before you're leaning over the sink and flipping the faucet on. You cup cold water to your lips, flushing out the wine from dinner.

Dinner, which you'd eaten only half of.

You hadn't slept in your own bed in days, and now you were loathe to. Strangers had been through here. You felt the need to scrub the hardwood until their footprints went away, to tidy until it looked like it did when your life was normal. When you didn't instinctively look to that living room window.

Bruce probably wondered where you were. Or maybe he was out again, back to saving lives, being busy. You feel a pettiness arise in you over knowing that he was out there, doing exactly as you'd expect (and even want) him to do, and yet in the short amount of time you'd gone without hearing or seeing from him, you'd experienced the full range of human emotion.

Maybe it also didn't help that Bruce had been the one to bring you into his world, and yet he'd sent his lawyer to deliver the severance agreement.

But you still live in his house. You know his secret, a secret he has told no more than one person. You sleep a few doors down from him every night. You've touched those scars on his stomach, on his back. Your hand has slipped beneath the armor where seldom anyone else has gone. What do you have to be upset about, really? What are you compensating for?

Your breath hitches. A heavy presence settles behind you, and someone shuts off the faucet.

You get lightheaded. Had the water been so loud that you hadn't heard someone enter, or your thoughts so consuming? You're still bent over, still clutching the sink, and you know that you're screwed from this angle no matter how you spin it.

A hand travels from your shoulder, fingers dangerously close to the neck, only for the hand to pull you up and turn you into their arms. It's Bruce—or Batman, rather—as he levels his severe gaze on you. You're still lightheaded, so you don't say anything.

You think he's going to say something, but all he does is let the hand on your shoulder slip away, leaving burning skin behind. Water runs from your lip down to your chin. Before you can, Bruce is slipping off his glove to wipe it away with his thumb. "Vicki didn't come anywhere near me tonight."

At the mention of her name, your hackles raise. "Her intern broke into my place. Did you know about that, too? Since you keep tabs on people like her?"

Bruce's eyes darken. You see the muscles in his jaw tighten. A few beats pass in which you stare him down, and he circles around an answer before he settles on the only one he can manage. "When?"

"This morning. Gordon came by, thought maybe it might've been Dimitri but... didn't have the right stink. So I paid her a visit." His eyes flicker around your face as you try to remain impassive. "Guess I must've scared her real bad, huh?"

You slip past him, kicking off your shoes by the door. You had a feeling this conversation would be a long one.

"I'm sorry. She's... never gone that far before."

You scoff. "Not your fault you were busy hunting the guy that wants to kill me," you say, and you mean it truthfully, but it still comes out bitter, "and it was the kid's fault, being stupid."

You feel Bruce's eyes trained on you, trying to pick you apart from behind. You feel him assessing every step you take to the living room, your eyes finding the window cracked open, letting in a chilly breeze.

"I'm sorry for being late." His apology is quieter as he makes his way into the room, keeping a sizable distance between you.

"I can't have you at my beck and call, can I?" Your question lingers in the air. You turn to look at him and see him working his jaw, thinking. "But it was... kind of embarrassing. I agonized over what I should say to Emily, if it would hurt her feelings, ruin her night even. And then you didn't show and I thought it was good, maybe for the best. But then you were late and I got... worried. Because I hadn't heard from you all day. And I had a really shit day.

"It crossed my mind that something could have happened to you, and I was seconds away from going to look for you when you suddenly appeared like nothing happened. I was relieved, it's just..." You feel that anger coming back, and however irrational, you level your gaze on Bruce's. "A quiet night in? You couldn't look at me once on that stage, but you had the gall to say—" You laugh. Bruce's head tilts just so, still watching you. "Is that what you wanted? My attention?"

In the back of your mind, you know it's unfair to do this now. For all you know, he hadn't taken a second to breathe after the news on Mathers broke. He'd done the same the night Russo was attacked. You were interrogating him like he'd thrown you to the wolves, and not like you'd just gone without him for a little longer than usual.

But you've had a shit day—really, a shit month—and there wasn't a liquor strong enough to soothe your wounds. You were prey, desperately clinging to some sense of control. Of course you were angry! "Anger" didn't feel like the right word for it, though, now that you really thought about it.

No, it was close. Eerily similar. Burning just as hot.

You stalk toward him. "Did you hope it was my number? Did you want it to be me?"

And this—you think—this enigma you've unraveled, has been at the center of everything. For better or for worse, you'd sealed your fate that night on your living room floor.

You think that if anyone were to fix this, it should be him.

Bruce is trying to figure out what to do. You can see the wheels turning. He's still, something in his eyes reaching for you. The thought of what it might be... oh. You're not angry.

You grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours, swallowing the tiny breath he releases into your mouth.

You feel him hesitate, but it's only for a moment. A moment long enough to make your stomach flip with budding regret—guilt at your own recklessness—but it's crushed beneath Bruce's heel when he gathers you into him by the waist, bordering on desperate for contact. The hand that had wiped the water from your chin cups your cheek now, and it's for the better because when he starts kissing back, it feels like he's trying to eat you alive.

You maneuver him away from the kitchen, following after him as you bump the wall, narrowly avoiding the heavy weight of Bruce's boots until you feel the plush of your rug beneath your feet. A thought forms in your head.

You press down on Bruce's shoulders until he gets the hint. His knees hit the floor, his lips separating from yours with a wet pop! and the ragged sound of his rough breathing. Bent at the waist, you pull back enough to see him looking up at you, hands still grasping for your hips. You don't like not being able to see all of his face right now, and so you slip your fingers underneath the neck of the cowl and tug it off, revealing his tousled hair that had looked so perfect earlier. You were the only one to see him like this. Your chest swells with pride.

You pry his hands off you and place them on his own waist instead, keeping his gaze the entire time. "Off."

Your command is but a whisper, and Bruce takes a second before he's peeling off his chest plate and utility belt and gloves, and eventually the under suit is hanging open at his hips like it had at your kitchen table not so long ago. He sits so pretty on his knees, chest flushed, waiting for you.

There are new scars on his skin. There would always be new scars. As your eyes trace each one, you almost laugh. His bullet wound stares back at you.

You shove him onto his back.

He falls to the ground with a thud and as you're straddling him, you hear a knock at the door. Bruce's hands pause in finding your hips as a voice carries through. "Hey, uh... you alright in there?"

It's the cop who couldn't be assed to look after you. "Yes." You hiss.

"You sure? Look, I know earlier—"

"Please fuck off." Bruce makes a noise from beneath you. When you look down at him, his eyes are lit up like they were at the auction. His hands finally settle on you, locking you against him, and a thrill rises within you. You wait for the silence outside to follow, and then you speak, hushed. "You never answered my question."

Bruce blinks away the haze settling over him, "What?"

"You wanted it to be me. You like when I... look at you. When I see what no one else sees. You like my attention or you wouldn't keep coming back." Your finger traces his bullet wound and you see his lips purse before any sounds could sneak past them. Your other hand travels up his chest, reaching until you can feel the edge of his stab wound.

Bruce's eyes narrow. You almost think you've struck the wrong nerve. "And you like looking at me."

You sink your weight against his lap and his eyelashes flutter.

You feel one of his hands sink into your hair when you bend to kiss the fading scars along his chest, feel his hips buck off the floor a little when your tongue presses into a purpled bruise. "We have to be quiet," you chasten, "I hear you pay your security well."

Bruce's breath warms the top of your head and he angles you away from his skin, eyes singling in on your puckered mouth. His other hand plays at your hip, fingers rubbing back and forth through the material until his fingers slip underneath and find the hem of your underwear. You shiver. His finger hooks underneath the hem and pulls teasingly, drawing a muted whimper out of you. "I'm sure you're creative enough to find a way."

Your eyes flicker to his. You rut your hips against his own for good measure, watching his jaw tick in an attempt to stay silent. "For me or for you?" Then, you begin to slip down his thighs, your kisses passing his navel and getting closer and closer to where his under suit still clings to skin. You feel something bump your chin.

The hand in your hair tightens just so. You feel lightheaded again.

You move back just as he sits up. You see the paint around the crease of his eyes beginning to run a little bit, the fingers stuck in your underwear now tugging with an urgency.

a/n: if I had a nickel for every time I wrote reader getting upset with bruce at a public function only to makeout with him when they got home i would have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice right. anyway bruce used ur underwear as a gag happy holidays

[oneforthemunny]

blurb game yay!!! shooting my shot here too: boxer!eddie (I MISS HIM AHHH), fluff, playful fighting 🥹🥹🥹

no bc i love him sm!!! this is so adorable ahh!!! this was actually so much fun, i love them being silly- sue me. i'll give a warning that they're a little drunk and silly in this one but it's super sweet and cute promise <3

"She's on the top ropes! What's she gonna do?" Eddie's exaggerated voice boomed off the walls of the hotel room, mixing with the infectious giggles that poured from your own lips.

You bounced on the edge of the bed above him, Eddie sprawled on the mattress below you, a sloppy grin spread over his features. You clutched the pillow, lifting it above your head, slamming it down dramatically with a grunt to his stomach.

"Oh! She's got me! She's got me!" Eddie groaned dramatically, turning to his side. "The ole ball buster's got me!"

"Hey!" You chirped, frowning at him though it wasn't very convincing, not with the laughs that were still bubbling over. "Watch it, Munson. Old?"

Eddie grinned, hands reaching to grab your knees, pulling you on top of him with a squeal. He rolled over top of you with ease, your loud shrieks and squeals deafening and his favorite sound all in one. His hands found your sides, lightly tickling under your rib cage so you bucked and screamed.

"Sorry, the beautiful ball buster." Eddie muttered, dodging your hand that broke free. His lips found your collarbones instead, playfully nipping at the skin there, sending you into another heaving fit of screaming laughs.

The night had started with a celebratory bottle of champagne, left in your room as a complimentary congratulations from the hotel on Eddie's win. Another bottle was ordered shortly after, arriving with your room service meal, and the Pay Per View code that tipsy Eddie had demanded.

"What even is this?" You'd frowned, a little tipsy from your own share of the bottle, teeth sinking into the fries.

"WWF?" Eddie's eyes lit up in shock. "You never watched wrestling? Stone Cold? Hulk Hogan?"

"No," You scoffed with an eye roll. "So this is what you do? But with costumes?"

"No, c'mon," Eddie snorted, shaking his head. "This is way more fun. Here, I'll show you. Let me put the moves on you."

You had half expected him to have you pinned to the mattress in a different way, hips snapping into yours furiously, leaving you drooling at shaking with pleasure. Instead, he'd popped the second bottle, standing on the chair in the corner, tapping his elbow before launching into the mattress dramatically. It was surprisingly silly, left you nearly choking on your fries with laughter.

He'd gotten you over his shoulders after a glass or two, shouting "Rock Bottom!" before flinging you onto the mattress easily, body sliding over yours, lifting your leg and pinning you while you cackled.

The roar of the announcers drowned out your own giggles, Eddie's slurring tone trying to match their cadence. "The Munsonator has her! Will she tap out? Tap out! Tap out!" Eddie boomed, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Never!" You screeched in laughter, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. "N-Never tap out." Your head spun, blood rushing mixing with the alcohol.

Your legs wrapped around Eddie's waist, twisting with all your might to roll him. Whether you'd actually rolled him or it was instinct, you weren't sure, but he rolled, his hands cradling your hip to steady you while yours pushed to his chest.

"Ah the ball buster's got me!" Eddie groaned, face smushing into the mattress when you pressed your palm to his cheek, pinning him there.

"Stop calling me that." You giggled, head tipping back. "I have a way better stage name than that."

"Yeah? What is it?" Eddie smirked, turning in your hold to look at you. "Joan Marie?"

"Who?" Your nose wrinkled with a snort of laughter. "No, I'd definitely go by something cool. Maybe, Elvira." Your eyes narrowed in the mean teasing way they always did, a little more exaggerated given your intoxicated state.

It made Eddie flush, cheeks burning with a rush of heat. Elvira, the movie the two of you watched the last time you got drunk like this. When you got a little loose, a little silly and sweet, and he did too. When he'd tell you little secrets more easily, less stoic and mean, softer. He'd lazily confessed to you that he'd always had a crush on Elvira, words slurred and the same half grin he was giving you now. You'd teased him endlessly about it, even sober, grinning as he'd shift with boyish embarrassment, trying to play it off.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Eddie grinned, flinging you back onto the mattress like you were weightless. "You are the fuckin' Mistress of All Evil, that should be your name. You sho- hey! Ow! What the fuc- there's no biting in wrestling!" Eddie gaped, pulling his arm back, eyes glassy and wide with dramatic shock as he examined the teeth marks on his upper arm.

You grinned, sliding back from under him, sitting up on your knees. "C'mon, Munsonator, y-hic!-you know you like it." Your teeth bared, a little wobbly with the alcohol still in your system. "Now, let me show you my finisher."

[somewhereincairparavel]

🐚 Daughter of Neptune headcanons list... 🌊 part three

Note: ahhh finally done with this unexpected series. Also, this is twice as long as the previous two parts, I got soo carried away haha, well you can't blame me, writing is so fun! This is the last part of this headcanon series, I had so much fun writing this?? Even though I had like a mini writer's block at first, I swear I started typing this part out having no idea what I was doing, but it all turned out better than I expected. This part is not just Jason x reader but it also includes so much platonic stuff with the others of the seven + Reyna + Nico. It's just so fluffy omgg. Happy reading! Thank you sm for all the notes you guys have given me for the previous two parts! Tell me if you guys enjoyed it, do you think I should consider writing more of these headcanon stuff in the future?

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746404816602972160/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons?source=share

Part two: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746489087922520064/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons-list-part-two?source=share

•After Jason woke up on the bus, he'd actually remember your eyes and voice VERY clearly. Because those were his two favorite things about you. But Hera had whacked him on the head pretty badly, so he couldn't remember ALL the details about you in the beginning, like Percy did. (I honestly wanted to make him remember you fully even after Hera wiped his memory off, but that would be too similar to Percy and Annabeth lol so I didn't want it to be cliche sorry)

•Now you guys may be wondering, what about Piper and Jason? Okay Piper would admit her feelings for him, but Jason would turn her down, albeit politely though, because it felt utterly wrong. He knew about this special person in his forgotten life, even though her figure was wispy and blurry. He never had any attraction towards Piper, she was a good friend, sure, and it didn't matter how pretty people thought Piper was, because those black Obsidian eyes of the mystery girl he was so familiar with, was alone prettier by every means. (We all love a loyal whipped Jason who thinks that a pair of eyes are more beautiful than a daughter of Aphrodite)

•He knew you were special. He knew that he didn't belong there, in the wilderness school. He knew that he was miles away from home. His real home. But the name of that home never came to him. •the moment he looked at his SPQR tattoo, though, it would bring him vigorous flashes of you and him sparring in a training room.

•Aeolus the wind god, would remind Jason of the time you and him stayed at his palace to slay Trojan the sea monster. Well, of course you went, how can you go to slay a sea monster without taking a sea child with you? Right? That was the last quest you and Jason went on before he disappeared.

Aeolus would trigger that one memory in Jason. Thank the gods for Aeolus. That one memory trigger is what made everything gush back to Jason like a tide.

•He’d remember your name, finally. His Best friend. His crush. His maybe girlfriend. He'd remember his friends from his home. Camp Jupiter. Gosh. He felt such a burst of energy simply by saying that name. Now, he felt homesick.

So you could imagine the excitement he felt, when Leo was building the argo ii. He'd practically gush about you to Leo, and even Piper would be super cool with it. Over the course of the months, Piper realized that Jason and her were not romantically compatible at all, it was all Hera’s mist. She didn't even know what she was thinking, crushing on someone who was so different from her on every level. So now Piper and Jason were like homie coded.

You were super worried after Percy told you that the new, Greek ship, the argo ii would land today. Which was pretty weird, since it meant that Jason was coming back to you. Why were you worried?

•Well, for lots of reasons, what if Jason didn't remember you anymore, what if he lost his feelings for you, what if he found someone else? The stress was real.

•Without even realizing it, you poured your thoughts out to Percy, whom you initially refused to tell about your’s and Jason's.. er.. situationship.

•Percy, would surprisingly be chill about it?? Like you were expecting some panicking now that he knew his sister was romantically involved with someone.

•Percy would calmly tell you that Jason wouldn't stop loving you, proudly pointing to himself as an example, that he never stopped loving annabeth even after the Hera Fiasco. Well. He had a point. That boy was still whipped for his girl.

•So when you locked eyes with Jason, and saw the familiar gleam in his eyes, you knew, he didn't forget. You forgot how piercing his blue eyed gaze was,because it made you feel stuff erupting from your stomach lol (blud is the definition of 🧿👄🧿)

•Without even caring about what your fellow Romans thought, Jason and you would just lunge onto each other tbh. Its canon that Jason is the best hugger ever, so it would be a rib crushing kinda hug.

•You would be SO relieved that he'd remember you and he'd be so relieved that you didn't move on.

•You guys wouldn't kiss, not yet. You still haven't exactly acknowledged your relationship status, BUTTT you do the cheesy af forehead touch thing (you could have sworn percy fake-gagged LOL)That's when Jason noticed your praetor badge, he’d be stunned, and would ask you for details, you’d simply point to the golden eagle perched at the end of the senate house and tell him that you and percy got elected after you both returned the eagle together.

He’d fall in love all over again omgg the heart eyes he’d give youuu. He knew that you were downplaying your achievements tho, so he’d secretly ask Reyna for the full details lol. (Reyna was a proud mom, so she’d give Jason ALLL the deets)

•okay so when Annabeth judo flips percy, you'd be SO taken aback lol, you’d even get a lil uncomfortable bc well that's YOUR brother getting attacked by a random girl- so initially you’d be ready af to throw hands.But after Percy starts laughing you’d realize that THAT'S annabeth. Like Percy's Annabeth. Dam, your brother was with a fierce girl.ANYWAYS, Percy would introduce Annabeth to you proudly, like “THIS is MY sister” (so dramatic and for what reason)

Annabeth would initially be very nervous around you, because, one, she didn't know that Poseidon had ANOTHER kid, gods know what havoc you and percy would cause together, two, you meant a lot to percy and she could clearly see that, an idiot could deny how much love your brother had for you, so she was determined to not mess up her reputation around you, ESPECIALLY after she the look on your face when she flipped Percy (you had a hot temper, need i mention, so without even realizing it, you had directed a very fierce glare at her, oopsie).

Octavian would again, not give up in trying remove your’s and percy’s praetorship by going “Oh there cant be four praetors its against the rules” blah blah that's where percy intervenes with his legendary “we all outrank you loser” lol

So after the group’s lunch scene where they discuss the prophecies and stuff. You, Reyna and Jason would actually talk amongst yourselves, after you guys came to the conclusion that you will have to join the gang in the argo ii. Jason would secretly be overjoyed that he doesn't need to separate from you anymore but you guys would still be sad that Reyna wouldn't be able to come.

This also meant that you would have to give your praetorship up. Gosh your positions in camp Jupiter somehow never stuck permanently, you'd even joke about that. And Reyna would have to handle Camp Jupiter by herself now that all three of you left, But Reyna assured you that it wasn't your fault.

Okay enough with the plot yapping I did. Bc if I continue it would go on for ages. The main reason you're here is because of reader x jason and I'm kinda deviating from that a little.

It would actually take so long till you and Jason get alone time on the argo ii because of group discussions and coach Hedge lol But you both would meet at the deck at like 2 AM (this kinda reminded you both of the times you and he would sneak out to explore New Rome at night.) That's where you both could feel the tension in the air lol. So many unresolved and unrequited feelings on both ends, how would you approach that?

But thankfully, being best friends first gave you guys an upper hand to moving forward in the relationship very quickly. You'd just start off talking about each other's respective journeys in your respective camps. He'd tell you about the quest with Leo and Piper, and you'd tell him about what went on in Camp Jupiter while he was gone.

That's when you realize that Jason looked a little different than when he left. His hair was Messier, a little longer, no more neatly cropped, his azure eyes sparkled when he spoke of Camp half blood, and the war games they had, how different it was from Camp Jupiter, etc.

But instead of feeling upset about how much Jason enjoyed the other camp, you'd feel relief. Relieved that Jason no longer looked stressed anymore, he'd always held this fatigue in his eyes, while he was at camp Jupiter , it was no wonder, considering the politics he'd had to engage in to prove the worth of the twelfth legion, his leader duties + vigorous training had tired him out, but now, some of the fatigue his eyes held had vanished.

Camp half blood seemed to be the place for him. Now you were itching to go to this mystery camp your maybe boyfriend AND your brother seemed to love so much.

Jason would be super nervous to tell you that he liked it better at camp half blood, and that he secretly wanted you to come and stay with him there though. Because he felt like he was betraying his Roman life. He felt like he was betraying your past.

So when he'd tell you, he'd just yap and yap about it out of nervousness. That's when it happened. That's when you kissed him. You would just pull him in. Period.

He'd be super flustered at first, neck reddening and all, but he'd just lean in and be so into it (he's a neck grabber, fight me) You'd think that as a military dude, the guy would be a bad kisser. Hell no. His dad's the chief of getting all the bitches, he ain't letting his son embarrass him by having no charm lol

OH OH and speaking of the old man, The moment your's and Jason's lips met, you would hear a clasp of thunder and see huge steaks of lightning explode in the sky.

You had to admit, the thought of your dad's watching as you both kissed made you feel weird lol

But if Zeus had hated you so much, he would've zapped you to electrons by now, and if Poseidon had hated jason so much, he would've drowned him. But thankfully, neither happened.

After lots of long deep conversations (and kissing)You both would reach the decision that after the whole gaia situation is over, you'd both stay at Camp half blood, but, you'd both return to settle in New Rome as you grew up. I mean, it's Camp Jupiter that you both dislike staying in, not the city itself. The city is paradise for demigods.

But the fates ruined it, so despite gaia’s defeat (No leo is alive and well here okay) after Jason took up the responsibility of building shrines for minor gods, he had to go back and forth between both the camps.

But you, Reyna, Hazel and Frank would help Jason with the minor gods in Rome, While Jason took care of the Greeks. This made his job a tad easier.So the downside was that you kinda had to do long distance for a while AND you hadn't even visited camp half blood yet (Which got on Percy's nerves, the poor boy wanted to show you around his Camp and cabin SO badly, but the fates never left you or Jason alone. The Romans always had duties in front of them.)

But because you, Reyna, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, and even Leo helped Jason with the shrine stuff. The job got done a lot quicker.

You both were finally at peace.So as a celebration to finishing the shrine project, Percy and Jason DRAGGED you to camp half blood and had the whole day spent with all of the 7 (including Reyna and Nico).

When I tell you, you've never had THIS much fun ALL your life omg.

You never got to bond with Leo, Piper or Annabeth properly because of the war, and stuff. But today? It was like you guys have been friends since forever.

You played capture the flag, You and Percy used up your water shenanigans to put on the most dramatic fountain show EVER (Annabeth was right in her judgment, you both were completely chaotic together) she realized how fun you actually were, not even half as grumpy as you looked. After you and Percy caused a huge avalanche that almost turned into a hail storm (which was prevented by wind boy Jason) Leo told you guys to stop flexing your fancy shmancy weather powers.

Piper taught you guys how to surf, which only ended in You and Percy somehow splattering water on each other and you aggressively tackling him into the bottom of the ocean, WHICH ended in a chaotic “who can swim faster?’’ competition between you both, You both were SO dedicated that you created a huge bubble to bring everyone into the bottom of the ocean to spectate (Frank turned into a sea urchin though lol)

You and Percy ended up in an argument over who won. Mind you, if you read part one, you'd know that Percy and you have this ability to telepathically converse with each other underwater, but only you both understand, so it would end up looking like you're making strangled fish noises to the others. Nico, Piper, and Leo were absolutely hysterical. Jason was amused but so clueless. Hazel was mortified, while Annabeth and Reyna hoped you and Percy didn't kill each other. And Frank? He was still an urchin.

Also, since You, Jason, Percy, Annabeth, Hazel and Frank would all go to New Rome College together, you guys would have SO many double dates together omgg.

I forgot to mention, you met Tyson and Percy's new little sister Estelle, so now your sibling group has expanded even more.

did i mention that percy and you would have matching dolphin plushies? yeah. he'd have the blue and you'd have the grey

Tyson would love you sm omg :( he'd keep making you stuff every time you showed up in camp half blood.

Also, Sometimes when Percy and Annabeth would be busy, You and jason would so babysit Estelle (which Sally would adore) Jason would so take Estelle flying.

can I just take this moment to emphasize how much Sally would care about Jason?? Like after hearing jason’s erm tragic past, Sally would get so protective of him and give him sm food and everything :( Jason would get a little emotional too. Like you can just see his eyes tearing up whenever Sally hugs him :(((

Even though Reyna joined the hunters, You and Jason would make it a point to see her at least Every two weeks. She'd be so proud of how far you and Jason had come, even after the long break that temporarily had your relationship on hold. Now Reyna could sleep peacefully lol since the poor girl had seen you both hopelessly pining for eachother since you were like 9 lol

She had listened to you telling her that you weren't good enough for Jason to like you back, AND him telling her that he wasn't good enough for you, after all.

Okay after you guys got older, because of the amount of services you and Jason had done for Camp Jupiter, you guys would end up receiving such a cool house in New Rome as a gift (it's like the least you deserved for all that you've been through lol) It would have a fancy Roman bath and everything. and even better, it was not far from where percy and Annabeth were living. So it was a win win.

You and Jason would totally iris message Nico at least once a week, you both were basically proud parents when you see Nico all lovey dovey in a relationship with Will. (Is this how Reyna felt seeing you and Jason? Maybe, yes)

Also, you and Thalia met not long after she came to Rome to check out the minor god's shrines. She loved you, like almost immediately, Jason iris messaged her atleast twice a week, so he told her all about you. So Thalia would be SO happy that someone was treating her lil bro right. He deserved that.

Speaking of family, Zeus had just grudgingly accepted that you were his son's girlfriend lol Poseidon would actually be a little chill about it. He wasn't as judgemental as his brother. But just because you and Jason were dating didn't mean that your dad's didn't stop having a go at each other lol

But you both would make it a point to start aggressively kissing eachother whenever you spot statues of your dad's placed next to eachother. Simply to piss them off. And it works. Every. Single. Time.

You would hear a clasp of thunder each time you do this. You and Jason would just look at eachother and burst into giggles. It was a tradition now between you both.

Sometimes Jason would still look at you like you were made of stardust, and vice versa.

In the end, you and Jason were what people called “Childhood Sweethearts”

[sugar-omi]

Just some brainrot because we love Cove. (Also, your fics are soooo good. Thanks for sharing it with us. I mean omega! and rockstar!cove :o )

So, we have Step 3 Cove in hand some time after Patreon's nsfw moment. MC is obssessed with giving him head, of course. He's so cute when you do...what can I say ? I'm a simple human. So yes they do it often, like casually saying : "Cove, I'm hungry." while you two are casually hanging out. At first he doesn't understand but the look in your eyes convey your message to him.

Most of the time, you'll be totally satisfied with just leaving him all red, dishevelled and flustered. Just having him putty in your hand makes your day. But at some point, when you ask Cove to come to your house (without kinky ideas in mind for once) he asks you if your just horny. While it makes sense, I like imagining that MC decides to not get him off anymore. Obviously until he begs, all red and pent up, for a release.

In the meantime, MC just spent their time teasing him. Light touches, flirty remarks and maybe getting him all worked up while making out only to purposefully stop. The poor guy, will clearly snap if show up at his door, anklet on.

This was a bit long and I'm sorry if there's any mistake as english isn't my first language.

I LOVE YOU ANON IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE ROCKSTAR!COVE TOO HEHE 🙈🙈🙈(omega!cove too, im having sm thoughts abt him lately...) also dw your english is perfect n i feel like you took an exert outta my head LMAO

tags : NSFW, hc's, gn reader, multiple choice dialogue, this just a really big ramble bc i've been a zombie thinking abt this shit n now we're here...., mmm overstim, oral (cove/reader receiving), reader's a TEASE, mind break honestly, ooc but idc 🏌️

he's confused when you first make subtle hints/advances, but i think realization hits him like a truck a millisecond later

for the longest you two wouldn't be able to keep your hands off each other

late at night sneaking into the others room so you can suck cove off, trying to keep all the slurping and gagging noises to a minimum

cove's moans are another struggle, but i say climb on top of him and let him eat you out / suck you off while you suck him off too

ohh his head would SPIN with that

he almost woke up your mom's last week because he moaned a little too loud when he finished

so now you're on top of him, your lovely ass and sex in his face

ahhh he'd be so fucking cute. teary eyed and whining into and drooling all over your cunt / cock, pulling you down onto his face so he can get more of you

also i loveee the thought of sucking him off in his car

realistically, i don't think step 3 cove could even handle the thought, he'd probably faint and hit his head n die LMAO

but arghh it'd be so hot

you went on a nice date, and now you're sitting in the parking lot of a beach far from home late at night, and tonight was so much fun.

shopping, movies, you even got some nice food from a hole in the wall restaurant

and now you're finally alone, no one around to see your boyfriend throw his head back, claw at the steering wheel and moan and babble and try not to thrust up into your mouth because he doesn't wanna hurt you

he's so whiny, and so loud

you've been sneaking around for awhile now, you can't blame him for wanting to be vocal because fuck your hot, wet mouth around his cock is so hot

and definitely doesn't help he's probably overstimulated, his cock so sensitive because you've been touching n sucking him off so much

let alone when he's rubbing one out in the shower before a date/event or in the middle of the night because he had a wet dream about you<333

mmm idk about yall, but i would break him <333

of course he doesn't interpret every touch or invite as sexual, but i also you've ruined him so you can't blame him, its your fault 🤭🤭

so now whenever you rub and squeeze his thigh, or give him a hot kiss, or say something like "cove, i wanna leave now... " or "come over, i miss you <3"

or send him a spicy text, "i had a dirty dream about you, can i come over, please?"

z

also omfg i would be so satisfied with just teasing him too…

i love it so much. it’s the best actually

mm i like having long nails, i’m always thinking about getting a new set/doing your nails all pretty and you’re showing them off to cove then you tell him “i wanna see how they look around your dick”

he’d love that omfg

imagine dragging your nails over his chest, teasing his sensitive nipples before you move down, pulling out his dick and giving languished strokes while you kiss him breathless, only moving onto leaving love bites all over his neck n chest once he’s a drooling, blushing mess <33

i think he’s gotten used to your late night/midday booty calls too

so when you invite him over, he can’t help but anticipate sex

but instead you’ve set up some snacks and a movie you’ve been waiting to come out set up on the TV and now cove looks like a fool with a half hard dick and with how fast he rushed over here

when you ask what’s wrong he’s mumbling, stuttering out how he thought you had ulterior motives for inviting him over…

so now it’s his fault because now he’s set up on your couch with him on your lap, teasing him about how he’s too horny to even imagine his s/o would want a normal date, no ulterior motives whatsoever

how he probably can’t even hold your hand without thinking about how you jerked him off in the bathroom of his workplace

and you’re so fucking right

because some days he can’t even kiss you without remembering his taste on your lips, can’t forget how your legs were trembling on either side of his head and now you’re having lunch with your families

how you’re sharing ice cream and jokes with your friends like you didn’t pull him aside before you left and got him off, begging him to cum, that you need to taste him to get by

omfg i also love the reverse/the consequence of breaking cove this way

because either way, he’s obsessed with you too

needs to taste you, have you… he’s just dying every day to have you under his hands, on his tongue..

and i can’t decide which i love more.. teasing cove bc he needs to have you, or teasing cove bc he gets so wound up from you needing him often

bc both is so delicious, and both of them scratch my brain so much

cove eagerly eating you out / sucking you off at the beach, he can’t even focus on teaching you surfing/surfing with you or building sandcastles, etc. because all he can think about is you n having his mouth on you…

you’ll show him a new outfit or sit in his lap or cuddle up next to him, etc. and now he’s thinking about ruining you in those clothes or sinking onto his knees giving you head while you lay back on the couch, still focused on your show

i love how in the ORCA dinner moment cove gets tense when you touch his thigh

i think he’d definitely be obsessed with you teasing him, working him up, dirty talking him especially

oh fuck i almost forgot. in the first patreon nsfw moment, he loves when you pull away before he finishes and you “don’t want it to end”

so technically this is canon <3333

so he’d definitely love is you pulled up to your date one day, anklet on and looking so lovely

n you’re touching his thigh, telling him how good he looks, kissing him suddenly and then pulling him into a deeper kiss when he gets it together

at some point you end up in his car, too busy swapping spit and slipping your hands where you can to get a feel of each other under those clothes, to even make it home

of course eventually you do, but even then your teasing doesn’t stop

ohhh sitting in his lap, rolling your hips into his, kissing him breathless until he’s babbling

you try to pull away, partially to tease cove but also because its late and his dad will be back any time now

but he convinces you to just get each other off, that you’ll have enough time so please?

and while you’re jerking cove off, you hear cliff’s car pull up and cove has not been quiet whatsoever, you couldn’t possibly risk it

but he’s so desperate, he’s so close to finishing, you can’t stop now!!

on the verge of tears prbly, all blushy and hot and a total mess

babbling about how he’ll be quiet so please make him cum, he’ll be good so please.

he’s such a doll, and he does keep his promise, even if it means shoving your undies in his mouth or muffling him some other way, like with your hands, lips, or sex

or you can let him bite/hide his face in the pillow, messing up his bed from all his squirming…

fuck this turned into such a big ramble tysm for sending this, im sorry i used this as a chance to unleash my apocalypse of horny brainworms LOL