#and she also know he's been itching a while

[billiousserpent]

[softquietsteadylove]

as much as I love how soft Gil has become for Thena in the “ten things I hate abt you” AU, I feel like he’s starting to go out of character a bit for this au 😭😭 (I’m not trying to be mean I promise) so maybe could you pretty please write one where Gil has more of that “edge” that his character initially has in this au? Again I’m sorry if this sounds mean and judgy I don’t mean it like that ❤️

Gil took a sip of his beer, not that it was the good stuff. He had to drive home anyway; Thena had driven Sersi, so he would be going home alone tonight.

"Need another?"

Gil looked over at him, only to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. But he wasn't, and it was indeed Ikaris offering him another beer. He just stared at it.

"You hear me, or what?"

Yeah, that seemed more like what he would expect from the gruff and unpleasant Scot. Gil looked towards the front yard again. "I'm good."

"Guess I can't blame you." Oh good, he was still talking. "Probably don't think we have much to talk about."

"I wouldn't think we had anything to talk about," Gil gritted out. He hoped Thena was inside, with Sersi, or even Dane. Far away from this piece of shit, at least.

"Well, I'm feelin' generous," Ikaris laughed, as if it were a favour that they were talking right now. "Warnin' about Princess in there-"

Gil bristled, and not just at Ikaris using the same name he occasionally used for Thena himself. He hadn't come to this party looking for a fight, but maybe the opportunity would present itself.

"Y'know we used to be a thing, I guess," Ikaris surmised, more talking at Gil than having a conversation. "Ages ago, by now. Anyway, things seemed fine, and I knew she wanted it, no matter what she said-"

"Shut up."

But he just kept going, listening to himself talk more than he had heard Gil try to interrupt him.

"But I backed off," Ikaris declared, holding his hands up as if that act were something to respect about him instead of the most basic decency. "Let her call herself a prude. But you-"

"Just don't, man," Gil warned him again. He finished off his beer and tossed the can. His hackles were rising, and Thena wasn't there to lecture him about his reputation or how fighting Ikaris was beneath him.

"You've gotten through to her," Ikaris mumbled with a little more skepticism. "Or at least, I assume you have, 'cause otherwise I don't know why the fuck you're with'er."

"I don't think you get to talk about her," Gil finally turned to Ikaris to face him properly. He leaned off the railing of the front porch. "Ever."

Ikaris' eyebrows raised but he didn't exactly back up from Gil's stance. He was also a tall guy, reasonably strong. And he certainly wasn't going to back down now that he could see his taunting had worked. "So you have had her."

"You shut your fucking mouth," Gil snarled, lunging forward and grabbing Ikaris by the shirt. They butted heads, Ikaris unwilling to look away. "You say one more thing about my girl and I'm gonna show you why you couldn't handle her, let alone me."

Ikaris chuckled, and why people thought he had any charm at all was beyond him. "Hey, little slut's business is none of my concern, now. But if you ask me, her sister's much more worth the effort-"

Gil let his fist fly. It had been a while, and he had almost forgotten how to use his natural bulk and mean mug. Almost.

Ikaris stumbled a little after the first hit, but he wasn't going to go down without a few of his own. He grabbed Gil and threw them both down the front steps. Some of their peers gathered around them, more of them cheering them on than trying to stop them.

Gil rolled them until he could push Ikaris down with his hand. The other he used to hit him, over and over again. Every time he looked at this disgusting prick's face, he hit him square in the jaw. Maybe it would come straight off.

It would serve him right for talking about Thena like that.

Gil remembered when she told him about it. He could remember how she, for all her efforts, had been so vulnerable seeming as she recounted his laughter.

Ikaris clawed at him from below, he got in a few hits to Gil's ribs. He would feel them in the morning, but there was nothing he could really do to stop Gil from wailing on him.

Gil shifted his target, aiming for the nose. "Bastard!"

The nose was definitely broken now.

"Oh my god!"

"Somebody stop them!"

Gil let it all wash over him. He would never get an opportunity like this again. He lifted Ikaris' half conscious head off the front walkway. His head dangled slightly, like a broken toy. "Say one more word about her--I dare you."

Ikaris' mouth moved, but between being dazed and the swelling, it wasn't like it sounded like actual words.

Gil accepted it, though. He swung his fist all the way back again before landing one last hit. It wouldn't kill him or anything, but maybe he wouldn't be dragging his sorry ass to school for a little while.

"Gil!"

He looked up, and at the front of the crowd were Thena and Sersi. Sersi had some distress on her face, but Thena looked as cool as a cucumber. He would expect nothing less. "We were just...talking."

Sersi huffed at him, marching right over and pushing him away. "Boys."

Sersi at least checked if Ikaris was breathing and sat him up. His nose was pouring blood like a fountain.

Thena didn't even look their way, so uninterested in Ikaris' well-being it was more potent than any hateful words she could have had for him. She patted Gil's shoulder. "Up."

He huffed, allowing her to tug at his hoodie and lead him stumbling towards his truck. He was certain he was about to hear how fighting wouldn't get him anywhere and he had to think more about not doing stuff like this.

But he would be satisfied if Ikaris never so much as looked in Thena's direction again.

Thena let him lean against the door, uncapping the bottle of plain old water in her hand. "Let me see them."

He rolled his eyes, displaying his bruised and split knuckles for her like a child being scolded. "It's nothing."

She gave him an unimpressed look. "The tough-guy act?"

Was that how she thought of him? Gil made a point not to wince or fuss as she poured the water over his hands. It did feel nice and cool on the swelling. "You think I'm bluffing?"

"I think you're lucky this happened at some random party and not in the middle of the school day." She was chastising him, but it lacked a certain bite that he knew she had in her. "I would be surprised if Ikaris was in any shape to attend the next few events. Might still have some bandages on by graduation."

"Good," Gil let fly without hesitation. Thena gave him another glare but he shrugged, in no condition to be dissuaded from his pride. "He deserves it."

"Regardless." So, she did agree he deserved to have the shit beaten out of him. Gil scanned her face as she dabbed at his knuckles gently.

"I'm not going to thank you for behaving like a barbarian."

"I wouldn't expect you to," he grumbled. No, that certainly wouldn't be her style, but maybe it would have been nice if she did. Just if she felt like it, or whatever. He thought it was kinda cool to fight for his girlfriend's honour but apparently not.

Thena, satisfied with her work, leaned against the door of his truck beside him. She let out a sigh, like she was completely worn out after passively witnessing his fight. "I didn't realise falling in love with you signed me up to be your personal nurse."

Gil just stared.

"What?" she frowned at him.

All this time--all this time had been waiting to tell her he loved her because he didn't think she was ready. Or maybe he thought she didn't feel the same. But now, for all her talk about how she wasn't going to thank him because she hadn't wanted him to fight Ikaris--now was when she chose to tell him she loved him?!

"What?" she snapped at him.

"You love me?"

"What?" she furrowed her brow, like she didn't even know what he was talking about.

Gil leaned off the truck, though. He moved closer, shielding her from even the chance of being observed. He would never get a straight answer from her if she thought they were being seen. "You said you loved me."

"No, I..." Thena trailed off, and he watched on her face as her mind replayed the incident for her. Horror dawned on her, very, very cutely. "I...I didn't-"

"You said you're in love with me," Gil clarified, grinning at her as she was forced to face the declaration with no escape.

"That's-" Thena blinked, turning a very lovely, very vibrant shade of red. It was impossible to hide with how pale she was, from her skin to her hair to her wardrobe. It shot down her neck and into her ears. "I'm not-"

Gil held back a chuckle. He wouldn't be the one to laugh at her--never. But he tipped her chin up and stole a kiss off her stuttering lips.

"I wouldn't-" she was still trying to form a defense in her name, not that denial was an option, at this point.

"Thena," he tried to intervene, but she was totally in her own head right now. And it could get very deep in there. "Thena?"

"I-I-I-" she was starting to panic, her chest heaving for breath.

"Thena!" he slapped his hand on the top of the truck, over her head, but loud enough to interrupt her avalanche of mumbling. She stared at him like a deer in headlights, unlike the lioness he called his girlfriend. "Listen to me."

She gulped.

"You are gonna come over tomorrow," he began. He had been trying to get her to come over like a normal person forever, now. And now, she was finally going to listen to him. "You're gonna meet my uncle. No more avoiding it."

She shrivelled a little.

"And I'm gonna introduce you as my girlfriend," he finished his instructions, tipping her chin up to him again. She still looked bewildered, flushed and flustered. He knew she still had that bite in her, though. "Got it?"

She nodded. Maybe he should get bossy with her more often.

He kissed her again, finding it a far more pleasant balm than nursing his wounds. Maybe it was all the adrenaline from the fight, but he really savoured it as she melted against him.

Thena gripped the edges of his hoodie, and he let her keep her head tucked close to his chest.

He smiled at her reflection in his truck window, bracing himself against it, completely dwarfing her smaller frame like this. "Bright and early, Princess."

"Anything else?" she puffed, and there was a hint of his usual headstrong shrew. He wouldn't have her any other way, after all.

But he grinned. It was definitely the adrenaline, but he was having way too much fun with it. "No, I think that's it. For now."

"Fine," she huffed, pushing away from him to stomp off with what dignity she could muster for herself.

Gil watched her go with a grin. God, did he love that icicle of a woman. But it was time he got some straight answers out of her, and now he could finally tell Gramps he was bringing his girlfriend to meet him properly.

[crystalis]

i still wish sylvando's stats were distributed differently in dq11 or that he learned some fire spells .. he has like 330 magical might at level 99 or sometjing which is pointless becuase the strongest spell he learns is Swoosh and the output for that caps at like 200 magical might..

itd have made more sense for him to have less magical might and to put more into his hp, so it'd at least be closer to Jade's or something rather tham having the same hp as Erik at lvl 99. oorrrr he coulddve had some fire spells like frizz/frizzle/kafrizz which would make sense because he can breathe fire..

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[ihavenointerestinreallife]

family relations | 18+ mdni

everyone knew that where fred went, george was right behind him; even if nobody could tell them apart half the time, two identical ginger boys always signaled trouble. 

when you showed up–someone with a stark difference in look to the two boys–it immediately raised an eyebrow. while not rare to see the two twins apart, it was a sight to see them accompanied by someone other than another member of their family, often at least. 

with the amount of nosy students at hogwarts it didn’t take long until someone got curious. 

“she’s just a part of the family,” george would say. 

“she’s like a sister to us, really,” fred would add not long after. 

— 

holidays with the weasley family were always chaotic to say the least. it seemed every year a new person stayed for christmas in the burrow, most notably in recent years harry and hermione joining their best friend ron–this year, the family home saw you as its new addition. 

the weasley family home had been filled to the brim since the birth of ginny, and the addition of companions only brightened it with more love. 

on christmas morning, everyone who didn’t own one already (or miraculously lost their original) received their first of molly’s many knitted sweaters, all personalized with their first initial. you’d never forget the first christmas you reunited with the twins wearing their own sweaters. 

“did mrs. weasley make those so she could remember which of you is which?” you asked. 

“mother says she could never forget who is who, which i guess is why i’m wearing his sweater, and he’s wearing mine,” fred would reply. 

when the day came for you to receive your own, the twins had visibly outgrown the jumpers you first saw them in, instead adorning new pairs to fit their growing builds. 

“molly, it’s beautiful! i dreamed of the day i’d get my own,” you said, running your fingers along the woollen fabric. 

“i’m glad you like it dear- and look, now you match freddie and georgie.” 

your head whipped in the direction of the two boys to confirm her words, and she was right. you matched fred and george from the overall blue color to the yellow letter. 

the way they looked at you then, you knew you could get used to matching sweaters. 

— 

you were purely friends with the twins up until your shared sixth year when they went to the yule ball with angelina johnson and katie bell. sure, the way they looked at you for the past year and a half had you questioning everything you felt for them. and sure, having them next to you at every given moment–closely, at that–made you think things friends wouldn’t dare say out loud- but this was a whole new level. 

molly had sent all the hogwarts attending weasley children outfits to wear to the ball; ginny a bright pink and mint gown, ron a very explicit hand me down likely of bill or percy’s, and the twins looked dashing in their matching suits. but you knew they could look even better, each hanging off one of your arms. 

instead you had the pleasure of watching both fred and george dance multiple rounds with their dates, while you sat next to harry and ron, also bummed out by how terrible the evening had gone. 

“they wanted to go with you, you know.” 

you jumped, turning your head to hermione who seemed to be itching to escape the crowd. 

“don’t be silly hermione, we’re just friends.” you muttered as you chewed on your lips, effectively removing them of any color you stained them with. “besides, you saw how eager they were when they asked angelina and katie in potions.” 

“or they were just trying to tease ron, you know how brothers are.” hermione looked at you with pity, as if there was someone she had hoped would ask her to the ball as well. 

the moment you decided to guess who she’d hoped would have asked her, your eyes scanned the crowd for either fred or george. it was futile for a second, until on either side of the floor you noticed both twins sneaking a glance back at you, both still occupied in dances with their dates. 

“hermione,” you began, tone laced with shyness despite how loud the music drowned your words out, “how would i know if my feelings surpassed friendly?” 

— 

it only took a day for feelings to be admitted by all three parties, only taking half of another for you to find yourself sandwiched in bed by both of the twins. robes had been discarded by the door, and you weren’t even sure you’d be able to find your scarf considering how long it had been gone. 

the boys sat knee to knee with you straddling both their laps, george to your front and fred to your back. they worked together to pull your hair off your neck, and then to unleash your tie from its collar, effectively exposing your bare skin to them. 

it didn’t feel real when the warmth of fred’s lips ghosted your skin, not even a semblance of it when they finally latched on. the amount of times you dreamt of them touching you intimately could not have prepared you for the feeling. 

“does it feel good when he kisses you like that?” george teased knowing you wouldn’t be able to catch your breath in time to reply. 

“yes georgie- fuck,” you moaned as fred bit down and sucked like a man tasked with marking you as his own. “freddie, people will see..” 

“let them love, they’d put the pieces together soon anyways.” he bit down again only a couple inches away from the first love bite, effectively securing the notion of nosy onlookers creating their own story to tell off. 

and tell off they would when every week new patches would show on your neck. the twins took turns marking you in places just indecent enough to turn heads, but not enough to solidify any real narrative about the three of you. 

a couple of weeks of people swearing they saw you snogging both twins at once in the gryffindor common room had at least one person becoming bold enough to ask you how you really felt about fred and george:

“they’re like my brothers, really.” 

— 

happy valentine’s day

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

can i request alex and lily's teen daughter sneaking out to a party, but kinda quickly she realizes that she doesnt want to be there. it's the middle of the night and she doesnt want to call her parents, so she calls her george to pick her up instead.

at home alex woke up to get a glass of water and while on his way back to bed he goes to check on her and she's not there. so he freaks out which wakes up lily, who is also quickly losing her mind cause, where has their *baby* gone?

Party

It was just past eleven when Yn slipped her bedroom window open. She paused, eyes flickering to her phone where a message blinked from her friend:

Party's getting good, you coming or not?

She hesitated. She wasn't the sneaking-out type. Not really. But it was summer, she was seventeen, and she could still hear her parents' laughter from the living room just half an hour ago, a perfect veil of distraction. She slipped into her sneakers, tugged on her hoodie, and slid silently out into the cool night air.

The party was only a fifteen-minute walk away, just on the edge of the neighborhood. When she arrived, music was pounding from inside a house she'd never actually been in before. Lights flashed, people crowded the front yard, cups in hand, laughter echoing off the sidewalk.

Yn hesitated on the curb. Her gut already whispered that she didn’t want to be here. But she'd made it this far, so she stepped inside.

"Yn!" her friend shrieked, grabbing her wrist. "You came! Finally. Come get a drink."

"I'm okay," Yn said with a small smile, but she followed her anyway, trying to pretend like she belonged.

Within ten minutes, she knew she'd made a mistake.

The air was thick, the rooms hot and packed. People bumped into her, some too drunk to notice. Her friend was nowhere to be seen anymore, swept up in a crowd of dancing bodies.

Yn lingered awkwardly near the back door, her fingers tight around her phone. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to go back through the crowd. But she really, really didn’t want to call her parents.

She hesitated.

Then she pulled up a contact.

Uncle George

She called.

"Hello?" George’s groggy voice answered after two rings.

"Uncle George? I—I need a ride. Please don’t tell Mum or Dad."

Instantly, his voice sharpened, more alert. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just… I went to this party, and I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want them to be mad. Can you just pick me up?"

"Send me the address. I'm coming."

At the house, everything was still. Or so Alex thought.

He woke for a glass of water, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he padded barefoot through the hallway. On the way back, his footsteps slowed. A feeling itched in his chest.

He walked past Yn's room.

The door was shut, like usual, but something felt off.

He knocked lightly. "Yn?"

No answer.

He opened the door slowly.

The room was empty. Bed made. Window cracked.

His breath hitched.

"Lily!" he called, louder than intended.

A shuffle from the bedroom. Lily stumbled out, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"What? What's wrong?"

"She's not in her room. The window… it’s open. Lily, she’s not here."

Lily blinked. "What? Are you sure she’s not in the bathroom?"

"I checked."

And just like that, panic set in.

"Oh my god," Lily whispered, now fully awake, hand clutching the frame of Yn's door. "Alex, where did she go? It's past midnight!"

"I don't know. I don't know," Alex muttered, pulling out his phone. "Should we call her?"

"Yes! Call her!"

He did. Straight to voicemail.

Lily paced the hallway, her voice tight and high. "Did she say anything earlier? Anything about going out?"

"Nothing. She was in her room. I thought… I don’t know what I thought."

"She wouldn't just disappear. Not our girl. She wouldn't."

But she had.

George pulled up to the curb ten minutes later, still in his pajamas, hair a mess under a hoodie. He spotted Yn standing awkwardly under a streetlight.

She looked up and nearly cried when she saw him.

"Thank you," she mumbled, slipping into the passenger seat.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just drove.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I just… I didn’t want to be there. And I didn’t want to call Dad or Mum. They’d freak."

George chuckled softly. "They probably already are."

Yn winced. "You think they noticed?"

"It’s after midnight. Your dad wakes up if a cloud passes too loudly."

Yn groaned, sinking into her seat. "They’re going to kill me."

"Nah. They'll probably cry first. Then kill you."

Back home, Lily and Alex were in full panic mode.

Alex was pacing now, phone in hand, debating if he should call the police.

"What if she's hurt? Or… or she snuck out to meet someone? What if she's lost?"

"She wouldn’t," Lily insisted, though her eyes brimmed with tears. "She wouldn't just vanish."

Alex was about to speak when the front door creaked open.

"Shh!" Lily whispered, grabbing his arm.

Footsteps. Soft. Trying not to make noise.

Then another pair, heavier, unbothered.

"Hi," came Yn’s small voice from the hallway.

Lily and Alex turned the corner just in time to see their daughter tiptoe through the door.

Behind her, George stood casually, arms crossed.

"Found something trying to sneak back into the zoo," he said, voice neutral.

Yn froze.

Alex stared.

Lily gasped.

"Yn Grace," she breathed. "Where have you been?"

Yn looked down. "I went to a party. I thought I wanted to go, but I didn’t. So I called George. I didn’t want to wake you."

"Didn't want to wake us?" Alex's voice cracked, half in disbelief, half in frustration. "You disappear in the middle of the night and don't think we'd notice?"

"I just—I thought I'd be back before anyone knew. I didn’t even stay long. I swear."

Lily stepped forward. "We were ready to call the police. Alex thought someone kidnapped you."

"I’m sorry," Yn whispered. "I really am. I just didn’t want to disappoint you."

George cleared his throat. "I think my job here is done. I'll leave you to your dramatic family moment."

"Thanks for picking her up," Lily said, her voice still tight.

George smiled at Yn. "You owe me ice cream. Lots of it."

Then he slipped out.

The silence that followed was heavy.

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. Lily stared at their daughter.

"Why?" Alex finally asked. "Why not just tell us?"

"Because I knew you’d say no. And I wanted to prove I could do something on my own. That I could handle it. But I couldn’t. And I realized that. That’s why I called George. I didn’t want to lie, not really. I just didn’t want to be treated like a kid."

"You are our kid," Lily said softly, stepping closer. "And you will always be. That doesn’t mean we don’t trust you. But sneaking out? That’s not okay."

"I know," Yn murmured. "I know. I’m sorry."

Alex looked at her, his face still a storm of anger, worry, and relief. "You scared me. I woke up and you weren’t there. I thought the worst."

"I didn’t mean to scare you. I really didn’t."

Lily stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug.

"We’re mad," she said against Yn’s hair. "So, so mad. But also... you’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Alex joined them, wrapping his arms around both of them.

"You’re grounded," he added, voice muffled in her hair.

Yn laughed through a sniffle. "I figured."

"Two weeks. No phone past nine. And your window? Locked from now on."

"Fair."

They stood there for a moment longer, tangled in relief and quiet tears.

Later, as Yn got ready for bed, her door creaked open again.

Alex poked his head in.

"Just checking. You’re... really here, right?"

Yn smiled from her bed. "I'm here."

He exhaled.

"Good."

"I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, baby."

As he shut her door, she whispered to herself, "Never doing that again."

And somewhere down the hall, Alex whispered back, "Better not."

The next morning, George sent her a text:

You still owe me that ice cream. Preferably mint chocolate chip. And maybe a dog for the trauma. Joking. (Kind of).

Yn laughed, turned off her phone, and joined her parents in the kitchen, where she found Lily sipping tea and Alex flipping pancakes like nothing had happened.

But when he saw her, he didn’t say anything.

He just handed her a pancake, and smiled.

They'd talk more later. But for now, she was home. She was safe.

And that was everything.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-♡○♡

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Nice to meet you

pairing: felix x afab!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: you meet a handsome stranger at a bar and things get heated between you... but there's a twist?

wc: 1.9k

warnings: oral (f and m), fingering, spanking, kinda rough sex + unprotected sex, pussy slap

a/n: needed a little break from a big fic i'm working on💅🏻 also had this in my drafts since september last year😩 enjoy💜

Once. Twice. Three times.

Bingo.

You definitely caught his eye, the handsome man at the end of the bar that kept throwing glances at you all evening and you were counting.

You swirled the olive in your martini glass slowly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you smirked and looked up at him. He took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes darkened and hooded as his tongue darted out to catch a droplet of the dark liquid sliding down his glass.

You wrapped your lips around the olive and slowly slid it off of the skewer, making a show of it and watching as his adam's apple bobbed up and down while he observed you. It didn't take too long for him to stand up and make his way towards you, confident and oozing with sex.

Or maybe you were just very horny.

"Evening. Is this seat taken?" his deep voice shook your core and your lips trembled against the glass.

"No." you smirked, crossing your right leg over the left, the little dress you had on did nothing to hide your thighs or breasts. The handsome stranger licked his lips as he stared at your thighs.

He sat down and you leaned towards him, exposing your cleveage and he caught on your hook like a fish.

"What's a pretty lady such as yourself doing here all alone?" he smirked as you finished your glass.

"Waiting for you." you smirked back.

"Me?" his eyebrows lifted a little. "How do you know I'm exactly what you've been waiting for, hm?" he teased.

"My intuition is never wrong." you giggled.

"Yeah? What's your name?" he chuckled and you bit on your lip, leaning away a little.

"Y/n. Yours?"

"Felix. Nice to meet you, Y/n." the way he said your name made you shiver.

"Nice to meet you, Felix." you smirked.

"Next drink is on me." he said and lifted his hand to call up the bartender. "Another one?" Felix pointed to your now empty glass and you nodded.

He ordered for the two of you before bringing his dark eyes back on yours.

"So what are you doing here alone?" you asked him, your heeled foot gently rubbing against his ankle and he let out a breathless chuckle.

"Maybe I was looking for you." he said as you took a big sip of your drink.

"How so?" you taunted and his hands started itching to touch you.

"You look just like the girl of my dreams." Felix said, knuckles gently brushing against your knee.

You let out a warm chuckle and shook your head.

"And what would you wanna do with this girl of your dreams, hm?" you teased, sliding your heel up his leg.

"First, make a toast. And then I'd take her home if she agrees to it."

You giggled, holding up your glass.

"To nights like this." you said as the two of you clinked your glasses together and finished your drinks.

By the time you stumbled out, Felix already had a bruising hold on your waist and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling harshly.

"Fuck." he groaned deeply, making you shiver.

He gripped you even harder and pushed you up against the wall outside the club, not giving you any time to catch a breath as his lips claimed yours. The kiss was bruising and passionate, the taste of the bitter drink mixed with him made your pussy throb. He was pressed up against you, his hands roaming down to your hips and thighs then back up your waist.

You tangled your tongues together, stealing each other's breath as you bunched up his jacket in your hands. Felix bit on your lower lip and pulled on it, making you moan.

"My driver can take us to my house." Felix mumbled against your neck, his breath hot and voice strained.

"Let's go." you whimpered as his teeth sunk into you, sucking on your skin and leaving a bruise.

He grabbed your hand and led you to a fancy looking car, opening the door and guiding you in with his hand on the small of your back.

As soon as he got in, the partition was lifted up, giving you privacy that you needed and your hands immediately flew to his pants.

"Woah, easy there pretty girl." Felix chuckled when your fingers started fumbling with his belt.

"I want you in my mouth." you said and he whimpered when you palmed his growing bulge.

"Yes, yes please." he said through gritted teeth as you finally managed to get rid of his pants and underwear, sliding them down enough to pull his length out.

"Shit. So pretty." you licked your lips at the sight of his glistening tip, his cock warm and heavy in your palm. You leaned in immediately, adjusting on the seat so you were comfortable, your tongue swiped over his tip, tasting the salty precum.

"Ngh." Felix whimpered as you pressed your tongue in his slit, playing with it and making him shiver. You lifted up just a little to spit on his cock and he gasped, lifting his hips towards your face.

You gave him a few slow and teasing strokes before wrapping your lips around him and bobbing your head up and down, slow at first.

"Fuck, Y/n you're killing me!" Felix groaned, his hand gripping at your hair as you slowly slid down until your nose pressed against his skin.

Felix's hips jerked up, making you gag and drool around him and he let out a strained chuckle as his hands spread over the back of your neck while he held you down in place.

"That mouth was made for my cock, hm?"

You could only moan around him in agreement as he bucked up, his tip abusing your throat.

The car was speeding through traffic as you sucked on his cock like your life depended on it and Felix's moans kept getting more high pitched so you gripped his balls. He growled lowly before twitching and cumming inside your mouth, riding his high as he kept your head down and fucked up into your mouth a few more times.

"Did you swallow?" he asked and you nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes as he didn't let you pull off of him yet.

"You're so pretty like this." Felix bit on his lip before pulling you up. "Let me see your tongue." he pressed his thumb on your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him, putting your tongue out. He slid his thumb on it, forcing your mouth open as he inspected it.

"Good girl." he leaned in and kissed you hungrily, tasting himself in your mouth. His hand traveled between your legs and you spread them instantly.

He didn't waste time either, fingers rubbing against your wetness.

"Did you cum in your panties while sucking on me?" he chuckled and you nodded sheepishly, feeling ashamed that you came untouched and probably looked pathetic and desperate.

"Fuck, that's so hot." Felix pushed you back, pushing your hips up before leaning down between your legs.

"Felix." you moaned when he moved aside your messed up panties.

"Mm." he dove in, flattening his tongue against you and gathering your juices as he ran it up and down multiple times, flicking it over your clit.

"Ah!" you moaned and he hooked his thumbs in your pussy and gently spread it apart, making you clench around nothing. He smirked and pushed his tongue in and your hips trembled harshly, already feeling the need to wrap around his head. Felix fucked you fervently, his tongue was long and thick and he was moving it inside you perfectly, making your legs shake and press around him.

Felix loved it, loved seeing you falling apart like this, pride swelling inside him knowing you were so desperate just from his tongue.

"Cum on my tongue baby." he said, teasing you with his fingertips and it was as if you were trained, spilling on his face instantly. He lapped it all up before pushing two fingers inside you, making you gasp.

"We're almost there." he dragged them against your walls slowly and teasingly with a smirk on his lips.

"Felix, please..." you begged, pushing up towards his fingers, needing him deeper and harder.

Felix considered it for a moment then chuckled, pulling his fingers out as you whined. He pressed them on your lips and you opened your mouth, letting him push them in and sucking on them, tasting yourself.

"We're here." he smirked, pulling away from you and you quickly adjusted yourself as he got out and rounded the car to open the door for you.

As soon as you walked into the apartment, the two of you started making out and knocking into furniture before he stopped and leaned away, quickly turning you around and bending you over the table.

"Let's continue where we stopped in the car." his voice was even deeper before he ripped your panties off and you gasped pushing back towards him as he pushed your dress up. Felix slid down his pants and underwear, gripping his hard cock and pressing the tip on your glistening folds.

"So pretty." he groaned as he watched your pussy swallow his cock while he spread you open with it.

Your eyes rolled back in satisfaction when he filled you up to the hilt.

"Move, please." you begged and he smirked once more before he started snapping his hips into yours harshly, his hands grabbing onto your hips and ass, giving it a few smacks.

"Oh!" you whimpered loudly when he did that in tune with his thrusts and your legs buckled.

"Good pussy, taking me so perfectly." Felix smirked behind you, landing another harsh smack on your flesh as he buried his cock deep inside you and you shook, whimpering his name as you came, squirting around him and on him when he pulled out abruptly.

"So good it made her piss, hm?" Felix slapped your sensitive pussy, making you moan.

"Y-yes!" you whimpered desperately.

"I think you want more, though." he said, lifting you in his arms and carrying you to the room. He put you down on the bed and kneeled between your legs, pulling them apart as he gripped your thighs.

"P-please." you whimpered when he just stared at your fucked out pussy in awe.

"Shh." he shushed you before pushing back in and fucking you hard again. You had to hold on to his shoulders from the force he was fucking you with, pussy drunk as he buried his face in your neck and started whimpering and babbling incoherently.

"C-cumming. I'm cumming." he groaned, biting on your neck as he exploded inside you, filling you up with the warm liquid.

"Lix." you sighed in joy as you wrapped around him and he held you tightly. After taking a moment he looked at you and both of you bursted in laughter.

"We should roleplay more often, wifey." he smirked at you, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring on your finger.

"If it will get you this wild, I agree, hubby." you chuckled at him and kissed him lovingly.

"I love you. Thanks for indulging my wish." Felix smiled against your chest.

"I love you." you kissed the top of his head. "Next time, you'll indulge a wish of mine." you whispered and he chuckled.

"Gladly."

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[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[callmeimlost]

Open to requests? Stand ready for my arrival 👹

May I request a Main!Mark x Starfire!reader? Like maybe reader is a kryptonian and Tamaranean mix, just super OP. Like imagine Starfire!reader coming to earth, becomes a famous hero, becomes the symbol of hope, and Mark becomes super nervous to meet her, but turns out she’s really kind and fun

(And maybe a cameo of Cecil, losing his mind trying to find weaknesses for these OP aliens that keep crashing into earth 💀🤚)

Just imagine Starfire!reader teaching Mark about krypton and Tamaran, while he teaches her about earth. And how Starfire!reader would help him after all his battles, and how she’d make him feel better by always just being there for him

(If this is too confusing, or if you’re just not getting the vision then that’s okay. Have a nice day 💕)

✷ PLANET HER:: mark Grayson x Starfire!reader

WARNING:: reader is very OP, cannon gore, mark & reader teach each other about their planets, bubbly! Reader.

SUMMARY:: after crash landing onto earth and being held by GDA to make sure your no true threat, you meet Mark Grayson who is utterly smitten with the idea of introducing you to life on earth !

MEIMEI YAPS:: this was all written on my phone bcs my iPad sucks rn, so sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also im so sorry it took me this long to write I was sick and then I went to a concert yesterday and had no time 🫩💔.

The smell of dirt and copper filled your every sense, the distant shouts, the sound of your planet falling apart at your own feet; it felt like a fever dream, truly unreal. Even with the two suns that hung over Tamaran like twins; yet even then a chill wracks through you, unsettling and churning in your stomach.

You felt the bile itching at the back of your throat, how your legs felt like jelly, or even your fingers shakily gripping at your family as you were sent into the endless abyss of space. You had floated through orbit; for how long? You couldn’t remember. The many planets you had passed by, even picking up on languages before setting off once more. Nothing habitable for you, nothing to make you stay longer than short of a day or two.

You had grown used to the impending trash looming around as you fly through, swatting at the debris of asteroids and trash floating from planets that had been long abandoned. Like an endless cycle of floating through nothing, before you had heard word of planet- earth, an odd sounding planet but nonetheless you were willing to try.

It had taken you days to fly to Earth, you had known you’d made it when you had seen the odd shaped metal floating not too far from the blue and green planet. And without hesitation you had set off onto your decent. At the speed you were going you could’ve been sick at just how hard you had pushed your self.

Breaking through the mesosphere the heat on your skin sizzling against your skin bothered you none, bringing a sense of comfort though it pales in comparison to the twin stars that hung in the sky of tamaran. Your skin felt like it was buzzing within the moment you hit the stratosphere, the air thin as you hover slowly.

Taking your time to now get closer, the air or lack there of, makes your head spin and your heart burn. You could feel your body dropping quicker than your brain could respond. Wind whipping past your face as your ears ring. Black splotches cover your vision as you realize there was no possible way of willing your body to catch itself from the whiplash inducing crash it was going to make.

You didn’t hear it; but you definitely felt it. Your body laid out in a crater sized hole in a rural field; the raw dirt and smell of flowers and grass had been the only comfort as you were lured into the darkness of your own sleep. Earth wasn’t off to a great start at all, your first impression on their people was slightly destructive, you didn’t mean to! How would you know that the spikes green stuff would be there?!

It was odd; waking up somewhere you hadn’t fallen asleep, almost panicked at the realization. The sterile walls, the smell of antiseptic. It felt powerful, protected. Your hands twitching at your side as the clatter of cuffs to the handles of the frame to this mysterious bed.

Your palms feel warm and tight balled in fists as you yank at the cuffs, the metal bending at the sheer strength of your incessant tugging before pulling harder out of frustration you break the handle of the bed frame making you yelp softly at your wrist that was not old still in the cuffs but now had a metal bar latched to the other end.

You can only hold it up as you look at it dumbly, before you could even try to further free yourself from the bent out shackle the door to the room slides open with an almost comical sound. A man; no- a handler. A man who looks to not know rest, the distant yet stern look in his eyes, and the crisp look he had told you that he was in charge; and he had done this to you, and it makes you press yourself harder against the pillow behind you.

The chilling blue eyes he held that pinned you to your spot and kept your mouth sealed shut, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn’t- at first. He lets in a heard of doctors who check these odd shaped projectile machines that move and fill up the once quiet room with loud medical noises. You watched with curious eyes and a pinched brow as the man steps forward at the foot of the bed.

He doesn’t ask you any questions, he only looks to the doctors flitting his gaze between them and you as he speaks in a tone you could tell he was talking about you but not to you, and the very few words you do understand stem from him mentioning Tamaran. He speaks quick and with purpose and it confuses you but you, but the small broken sentences you can make don’t seem to help either of you much.

But you improve! Only at the expense of a poor doctor trying to check your vitals when you use the Tamaranian way of exchanging language when you lay one on him. And even more to the dismay of Cecil because the moment you start forming true sentences he learns you are just lollipops and rainbows; well- for someone who grew up on a planet where warriors are practically bred.

And with that you had spent little time under Cecil’s watch from what you understood you had only been under watch for the purpose of making sure you were no real threat to Earth, you were almost harmless had it not been for the fact that you could probably blow half of the building up with only a few beams of that green light glowing around your fists when you train.

But it was a surprise not only to Cecil but you as well when Mark Grayson stumbles upon you in private training he watches you with curiosity, his skin buzzing with warmth, you were intimidating. How easy everything seemed for you, the way you effortlessly move around and can be efficient. When Cecil catches Mark he felt like a kid being scolded for eating snacks before dinner.

“who was that?” Mark couldn’t keep his eyes off of you even as Cecil was practically guiding Mark out of the vicinity, he didn’t need two stupidly strong aliens consorting around with each other seeing as Mark is a loose cannon and you are emotionally driven. Cecil would only glare at Mark before spatting “Earth’s second biggest gain and potential enemy” and it wouldn’t be long before Mark would see you again, just not necessarily in the presence of Cecil.

When you were trusted under the guise that you were to work for the GDA you were propelled into the hero scene and became popular amongst the younger crowd, he’d see you on the news when he was on patrol, how you had taken the lizard league down on your own, how you mainly worked solo jobs.

He’d see how truly easy you made it look, how you knocked around people way bigger than you, how you could take a punch and not react let alone show any weakness; and when he finally met you face to face he was practically sweating out of his suit.

You were prettier up close, you emanated an aura that could be ignored- well for the purpose of Mark’s job in that moment it wasn’t time to be star struck but do his job. Cecil had sent the two of you with a group of astronauts to Mars where you’d make yourselves stay hidden unless something where to go wrong and god did Mark try to convince himself he was petrified to spend any time alone with you; he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of another really strong alien who could understand at least a fraction of how he feels.

When the two of you are sent of to take the two day flight to mars the two of you sit quietly the first few hours as Mark as unserious as it sounds tried to be as nonchalant and mysterious as he could because in his eyes that’s what you were. It wasn’t until you offered to make food for the two of you had Mark let his guard down. You were a mystery to him; your words polite and tone soft, your stride was strong and though you didn’t speak much, your presence was quiet and slightly refreshing.

The first time you and Mark had truly tried to teach each other about your planets was when you laid out a plate of food that had looked odd and almost inedible. Mark put on the best smile he could as you watched with eager eyes “on my planet it is much like a turkey on your planet” and Mark would have worn a small smile at how cute the excitement on your face was had it not been for the fact that he’s pretty sure he watched the food on the plate move….

But for the sake of not ruining the small connection he just gained between the two of you he sucks it up and eats the food anyways- even if it was squishy and salty with an off putting color. “Do you have any meals on Earth that your family likes?” You had now seated yourself across from him curling your knees to your chest as you watched eagerly waiting to learn.

The two of you sat for the rest of the ride happily exchanging stories and history of your planets. How Mark knows that Tamaran is 26 light years away and that you’re actually Tamaranean royalty; is beyond him. He wondered if Cecil knew these things, or if it too personal? He didn’t know, so he never told; keeping it between you and him.

Though Mark does catches the looks of bewilderment when he explains that technology had not evolved that far on earth to the point of spacecrafts as advanced as ones on other planets that fly lightyears faster than a helicopter or an airplane. He didn’t know wether to feel pity or almost laugh when he realized that on Tamaran you didn’t have cell phones or internet, and you didn’t speak as fluently accurate; so when you watch him looking at pictures of Debbie and Nolan on his phone it was like he had grown a second head.

Plucking the little device out of his hands between your index and thumb as you tilt your head looking at the boxy metal piece of technology in your hand. “This is your communication?” Though it was more of a statement it came out as a question and it makes a small curious grin grow on Mark’s lips. “Cecil didn’t teach you about the power of a phone?” It sounded outlandish at first but Mark realized exactly who he was talking about; the man who only had time to stress out over everything else going on in the United States.

You only shake your head as you fill grip the phone looking down at the screen. “It is like the projectors we have on my planet….but trapped in a box” you swipe the screen and watch as another photo comes up, a picture of Mark with people who looked around his age all close together smiling happily. “Are these people your companions ?” You look up at Mark who looks at the photo’s with a smile. “On Earth we call them ‘friends’; companion sounds….formal”

Regardless of the fact you continue to let Mark show you many different photos of his friends and family, every time he showed you a picture he could feel your body temperature rising almost as if it were radioactive, yet you watch with curious eyes as he turns to you with a hint of amusement in his eyes “can I teach you how to use it?”

The explanation on how to work a phone was like a battle of with his brain; you were curious what every button does and what certain apps do. To say Mark had to test his wits with answering every question you have to the best of his ability without sounding like a complete fool. The two of you laughed at the others lack of under within certain contexts of conversations neither would have thought you’d have.

The two of you had been so caught up in his phone and how to work it that when it had eventually died, Mark would come to find out the astronauts were gone. The only thing left behind were a track of prints. “Shit!” And that’s when Mark also realized you were impressionable as you float by his side testing the curse word on your tongue and it makes Mark sigh as he realized how much of an influence his bad vocabulary would also have on you…..poor Cecil.

When the two of you eventually land on mars; the two of you work well together, though mark did have to worry a few times… It had never occurred to him before that sometimes the two of you were very emotionally charged, letting your moral compasses guide you rather than logic. And when the two of you learn of their disappearance the two of you go searching when you stumble upon the underground palace that belonged to sequids.

You watched Mark pull open the small hat hatch door that led underground, seeing the many little creatures slimy and sticking to helmet and suit of Mark as he tried to pull off the creature’s with yelps and shouts; watching him squirm makes you giggle as pull the last sequid off of him. “Are you okay?” You ask gently as the dull thump of the parasite on the group makes Mark shiver in disgust before he hums.

The two of you looking at the creatures with completely different looks on your faces, Mark had to do a double take when he saw the way you coo at the pink little membranes that squirmed disgustingly. “You think those things are cute?!” He whisper shouted he was flabbergasted on how you could such a thing to be anything but gross. But the way you nodded and stepped closer made his heart leap out of his ass.

“They are adorable!” You’d chime in quickly but quietly not to trigger any of them to attack “on my planet we keep creatures like these as pets….or we eat them!” Mark’s skin almost turned green at the idea of ever eating one of those things. “Maybe we should keep you at a distance from those” he’d chuckle cautiously as he watches you look at the pink beings with almost heart shaped eyes.

He almost has to tug you away with each carefully placed step you took towards the small creatures. And when the two of you find yourselves with your hands up surrounded by Martians who had clearly been in some kind of distress due to said pink creatures after you had basically shot it down from jumping on you, with that in mind the martians take you into their leader when you finally meet face to face with rage astronauts you and Mark were supposed to be watching and protecting.

After getting the run down on what exactly sequid’s were and what they do, Mark could clock the dark cloud looming over you at the deeply disturbing story. He had watched your once pouty smile slowly fall into a deeply disturbed frown and once he sees the look on your face he immediately feels the frown on his lips weighing down on his lips as well.

The Martian’s had practically disappeared from Mars due to the insurmountable amount of sequids had plagued the planet and had latched onto their kind before completely taking over the mind and body.

“I should have eaten them when we saw them” you mumbled to Mark and had it not been for the serious matter at hand he would’ve burst into laughter; but he had to be serious. “No eating” he says back and it makes you roll your eyes and slightly kick the flooring your very efficient plan being shot down.

“Tell me, how are you able to resist them” the Martian asked as he stands towering over the two of you and it leaves an uncomfortable pit in your stomach that makes you reach for the sleeve of Mark’s suit clutching slightly for some sort of comfort. “I come from the planet Tamaran” you answer quickly as Mark stutters slightly before dumbly answering “I’m part viltrumite; ever heard of us?” An impending and almost embarrassing silent beat passes by before he answers.

“I am the emperor of Mars, of course I’ve heard of you!” And that makes you step back slightly letting go of Mark’s sleeve so unaware that invincible belonged to an empire, to a race of people who didn’t have the greatest track record in space. “Well if you know us then you know; we like to help out wherever we can. Which is why; we were sent to help protect these astronauts” you could tell that even in costume; Invincible was just a boy at heart.

The slightly distressed look on his face as he tries to talk his way out of this. “So if your all good, we can finish our science and head home” he points towards the way you had came step back a few steps before the two men who had captured you blocked your paths. Your brows scrunch as an encroaching feeling of heat along your skin spikes. “Impossible! Human’s are sent to immediate execution!” The emperor shouts taking a step closer flickering between you and Mark.

“We cannot risk them coming into close counter with a sequid!” He urges in frustration you frown looking at your feet, you weren’t all too sure how Mark handled situations like these; but you knew for a fact that you were not a failure, you will not leave these people here to die, you will not die, and neither will invincible. You were sure of it. “I understand” you heard Mark say in an almost disappointed tone that makes your brow twitch.

He was onto something; brute force, maybe. But it was still something! And by the time you make it back to the surface hoards of martians had been chasing you through the thick clouds of dirt cloud your eyes you keep up and almost pass everyone before you yell over your shoulder you can see one of the human’s falling behind with a petrified face. “Flying sounds real efficient right now invincible!” You push yourself of the ground using the leverage to pick the woman up and a man before Mark follows behind you back into the ship.

As you and Mark try holding off the Martian’s as the smoke rises the two of you were practically clearing house until Mark had practically gotten tossed right under the ship. “You try and get that thing off the ground, I’ll hold them off. Can you do that?!” You ask over your shoulders as you feel anger growing in your stomach. Your eyes were glowing green and Mark didn’t know if he should be concerned or do what you say; regardless he would try.

He gets the ship up in the air in no time as he gets hit with the heated beams you could hear the pained grunts he let out making you return the favor, hearing the jets buzzing you take off towards the ship as you make your quickly awaited exit, you see Mark fly back down for a Rock that makes you laugh. “What’s that for?” You ask sitting on one of the wings. “Just thought I’d get something out of this whole ordeal” he shrugged holding the rock out to show you.

You tilt your head with a sad smile, Mark didn’t have to look at you, he could feel a sense of sadness lingering “it reminds me of the color Tamaran” you run a finger over the rock letting the dirt of mars stain your finger a burnt chalky orange. “Do you miss it?” He asks finally looking up at you with sympathy dripping from his words. “Sometimes…but i can’t go back” you swing your feet back and forth enjoying the lack of gravity with each moment.

He doesn’t say anything, at least not about why you can’t go back home; because he wasn’t there yet. He wanted to ask so many questions, but he’s too scared he’d overstep so he took the silent route instead. The two of you enjoyed the ride back home. It was better than awkwardly sitting together for hours.

Though when the two of you got back to Earth and checked in with Cecil it seemed he wanted the two of you to work together more often, keeping an eye on not just the two of you; but Mark’s own father. With the disappearance of the Guardians of the Globe and their unsuspecting deaths everyone searching for answers publicly and privately.

You had only met Omni-man in passing once or twice, not one for help or conversation you seemed to steer clear of him regardless of the fact that he was invincible’s father. When it all came spiraling down; Omni-man had officially lost it. Chicago was in ruins, people were trapped under collapsing buildings, cars and debris filling the streets.

Cecil had sent you out to do damage control as much as you could, the fight had ripped through subways, killed pilots and cracked a fucking mountain. When you had seen how much damage was done you were pissed. Nothing could have prepared Cecil for an angry alien basically standing over of him shouting. “You have to get this under control, he will kill him! You’re just sitting here watching it!” It was an outrage, how could he just stand there and watch like this was peak entertainment?

You had been so caught your own anger you hadn’t realized the woman who watched you with wide eyes on the brink of tears. “You know Mark?” She asks weakly and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest as you nod walking closer gently taking her hand into yours gently “Me and Mark went to Mars together. He was my first…friend on Earth” the word sounded weird falling from your lips but it felt like the right word.

“I’m so sorry this happening; I’ll see if can do anything to help Mark” squeezing her much smaller and weaker hand gently “I’ll do whatever I can” the gleam of hope flickering through her eyes makes you give a firm nod without saying anything else you look to the other workers amongst you watching Omni-man practically brutalized his own kin.

You took off towards the mountains, your body practically buzzing with heat and anger, your eyes and hands glowing and buzzing the closer you get to the fight- more like pummeling; but you had decided you were going to stand a fighting chance, and you were going to help Mark in anyway you can.

You understood that that the Guardians of the Globe was Earth’s protectors, and the track records Viltrumites had back on Tamaran Omni-man had a huge target on his back now. You’ve watched neighboring planets be destroyed and fallen victim to the empire you had so desperately prayed stayed far away from your home.

You were angry, these people, Mark; close to or already being dead- it pissed you off, how could you come to a planet like Earth and want to destroy it? Ruin the little peace it already holds? Every sharp turn, no matter how hard you pushed yourself to fly faster it still didn’t feel fast enough. You had grown to care for Mark since you’ve met, dealing with his small rants about some silly little earth cartoon on paper, or even sprinkles of him talking about school work.

So the moment you see Omni-man looming over the onyx haired boy whose face was practically swollen shut, blood covering his uniform. You could feel your insides churn at the sight, the bile sitting at the back of your throat, how your body tensed and fists tighten. You don’t hesitate to throw yourself into the mix; tackling the man off of his own son.

Thinking back; had you been human you’d had died. The brute force the two of you exchanged wasn’t much; but who could really beat a viltrumite who had been alive for centuries that had conquered planets and killed for strength? He had broken your arm and had finally flown off. Even with the sharp pain running through you in searing waves with every inch you moved, you still found yourself laying beside Mark’s feeble body checking if he was still alive; once you had fully recognized him as breathing and alive you had accepted exhaustion and passed out beside him.

And from then on you had an unwavering loyalty to Mark, going as far as to wheel your own IV around in the hospital to marks room and sit by his side watch trashy TV on mute because remotes still confused you, sometimes apologizing for not doing more, complaining about Cecil, just even eat dinner. Debbie had started to see your face way more often after the fallout of her family.

Even at times you had become very protective over him, going as far as to stand outside of his room and glare at Cecil for the poor job he was doing taking Mark under his wing. And eventually when Mark had woke up you two were glued at the hip. In return for helping him during his fight with his dad he’d help you emerge in Earth culture!

He teaches you about social media, slang, he at one point had to use parental controls in order for you to not accidentally call or text any of the numbers he gave you. You did break the first phone Cecil got you, you were very concerned when you got a call from Mark but couldn’t see him, his voice barely audible from how low your volume was making you shout into the line before ultimately throwing the phone out of stress.

He taught you how to make ‘Earth food’ though it was debatable on if it truly mattered what you ate because truly….you ate anything; and that kind of scared him. Having to explain why eating burnt toast or something that has been in the fridge for clearly too long was not something people on Earth do, he got an odd stare and a shrug before you reluctantly threw it away.

You do teach Mark about your planet, the history, the environment, how you were born into a planet where being warriors was normal; brutality was not frowned upon as much as it is on Earth. Though you have questioned him on why people don’t kill their enemies you had to have a serious discussion on why that isn’t exactly always okay.

Mark takes you to different countries, states and cities to show you how much fun Earth was; Breakfast in Paris and Dinner at Mark’s with Debbie with food from her favorite Mexican restaurant. The field trips were always great, he enjoyed watching the way your hands and eyes glow green when you got excited to experience new things.

Eventually when things start to get sour between Mark and Cecil especially after going through that rough patch with his dad, finding out about Oliver, and most of all Cecil not trusting Mark. Mark had been nothing but good! He could do no wrong in your eyes. The day Mark parted ways with Cecil you dipped in solidarity.

You help him train Oliver, you adore the small boy. Sometimes Mark comes to you for advice when he needs help with how much Oliver starts to pick up the ideologies of their father and how fast he’s even rapidly growing. You try your best to help make his work load less heavy. With the year he was having you don’t know he hasn’t found the time to lose his shit.

Mark appreciates you more than he has probably said it; feeling just slightly less alone because of the random alien that crashed into Earth like a meteor and just stuck around. Although you do have a slight innocence to you now; Mark looks back on his first encounter with you and can’t believe how nervous you made him when really you were in a way….kind of like him.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

case dismissed ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Summary: sometimes, men don't take y/n seriously in their world. y/n doesn't like to play the mafia card often, but what use is a mafia husband if not for this?

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ln x reader ⋆˙⟡

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ mafia au ⋆˙⟡

masterlist ☾☼

the courtroom buzzed with tension, as y/n y/l/n, highly skilled and known for her quick retorts, faced the jury. she was in an all-out war with a condescending christian who seemed to enjoy hurling his sexist remarks about her during the proceedings.

“i'm sure the jury is smart enough to decipher emotional manipulation by ms. y/l/n,” christian spat, itching with his overly expensive tie. “come on, don’t they teach women in college about emotional manipulation these days? because, that's exactly what's happening here!”

a shift of anxious whispers traveled across the court, but y/n simply raised an eyebrow and continued her points. she had grown to expect patronizing men like christian, and all dismissive of her just for being a woman. she had suffered much worse in this world, yet somehow, she always came out victorious.

as the suit dragged on, christian's quotes got more and more frequent, and too intrusive. he gave her directions about how to dress, what to say, and even what to do. while y/n was calm, she was also trying to put the flames of rage out. she certainly was not going to let this man’s crude sexism prevail.

the case revolved around a complex corporate fraud scheme, where christian's client, a powerful conglomerate, was accused of swindling millions from unsuspecting investors. y/n, representing the plaintiffs, had meticulously built her case, exposing a trail of deceit and manipulation that led directly to christian's client.

christian, however, resorted to personal attacks, hoping to distract the jury from the overwhelming evidence against his client. he questioned y/n's competence, suggesting that her success was due to her "feminine charm" rather than her legal acumen.

"i'm surprised ms. y/l/n even understands the intricacies of this financial matter," christian scoffed, "perhaps she should stick to cases that are more... emotionally driven."

y/n gritted her teeth, but refused to rise to the bait. she knew that christian was trying to provoke her, to make her lose her composure. but she was determined to remain professional, to let her legal skills speak for themselves.

the trial dragged on, with christian's sexist remarks becoming more and more unbearable. y/n endured it all, focusing on her arguments, presenting her evidence with unwavering confidence. she was determined to win this case, not only for her clients but also for all the women who had been underestimated and belittled by men like christian.

finally, the moment came when christian made a particularly nasty comment about her "emotional instability," suggesting that her arguments were based on feelings rather than facts. y/n had had enough. she reached into her purse, pulled out her ID, and walked over to christian, her eyes blazing.

"can you read out my name, please?" she asked, her voice dangerously soft.

christian smirked, thinking he had won. "sure, whatever," he said, taking the id from her hand. he glanced at it, and his eyes widened in shock. His face paled, and he started to stammer.

"y/n y/l/n- y/l/n norris?" he stuttered, his voice barely a whisper. "but... but that's..."

"yes," y/n interrupted, her voice now ringing with authority. "it's also the last name of lando norris, the most influential, not to mention dangerous, man in the city. my husband."

the buzz between the people in the courtroom, was subtle yet frightening. christian looked like a corpse and was one more second away from truly fainting. what he did not know was that wife of the mob boss he was insulting repeatedly was in fact married.

“apologies, mrs. norris,” christian softly murmured, trembling. “i really did not know.”

“y/l/n-norris. and, that’s correct. you did not,” y/n cut off. “you were so preoccupied in being a sexist pig that you could not notice anything else.”

turning to the judge, she continued in the same cool and controlled tone, “your honour, this case is as clear cut as they come, there is no additional information that i would like to provide.”

in silence the judge seemed to admire her calmness and how she handled that unexpected turn of events. “very well,” he said, looking at her. “the case is dismissed.”

y/n y/l/n-norris could not help herself smiling after the case had ended, she was not only able to win the case, but educate christian on respecting women. however, she had not quite finished yet. she still had her husband waiting for her with a gleeful glimmer in his gaze.

that evening, christian was bound to a chair in a dark, soundproofed room. he was frightened, realizing that he was in the hands of lando norris, a man not particularly famous for his mercy.

the door slowly opened, and lando entered, accompanied by y/n. christian's eyes went wide with fear as he beheld the mob boss come towards him, a sadistic grin spreading across his face.

"look who's back," lando said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "about time. death has been waiting for you."

y/n snorted, "babe, that was a terrible line,"

lando groaned, "i knew i shouldn't have used this one! george said it would sound cool!"

"clearly, george was wrong!"

christian began to plead for his life, but lando, turning his attention back on the man who was tied up, just laughed and shook his head. "you should have thought of that before you chose to disrespect my wife," he said. "now, you're going to pay the price."

y/n observed her husband handle christian, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. she knew that lando would handle things and that she didn't need to worry about christian ever causing her trouble again.

as she left the room, she couldn't help but feel a burst of pride in her husband. he was a dangerous man, but he was also intensely protective and loyal to her. she knew that she was in safe hands with him, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

did i hate this? absolutely. did i still write it? clearly. will i regret it? no, i've already forgotten about it. dee, this is for you. anyways, i hope you like this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[kmt123whatsthetea]

A sweet angel and her corrupting devils

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Requested by: @flowerhetal

Request: “The twins with an inexperienced reader”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'm finally back and writing. Also, I really went on a tangent for this one, I’m very sorry. And I had to rewrite most of the book because I wanted it to be a BFB as Ginny's bestie, but by TOOTP Ginny is 14 and the twins are 17-18, and I knew someone would pick it up and yikes. So say hello to Ron's new bestie, who is legal. I’m gonna be honest, this one was difficult to write and I didnt like how slow it was because I was just pushing to get it uploaded after so long. I really don't feel like this is even in my top 10.

T/W: Virgin reader, Twins kinda baby reader, Umbridge causing pain, Fingering, Praise

The Twins were such sweethearts.

Despite their joking nature, they treated you like a glass statue. Even when they picked you up, they handled you with care.

Fred and George were 2 years older than you. Being Ron’s best friend meant that, at first, the twins saw you as an annoying little sister, just without the trademark hair and freckles. But then the attraction became increasingly obvious. Fred and George would pay more attention to you and always wanted to sit beside you when you stayed for a sleepover. After a brief conversation between the two, they had realised that you had become another shared trait for the twins.

It was only fair that they agreed to share your attention.

As the years passed and you all got older, that attraction never faded. The twins flocked to you. Whenever a new prank was ready, you would never be a target. But they’d make sure that you were there to bear witness since they loved the sound of your laughter.

You started going to them more often, telling them about your day and listening to theirs. They never let anyone mess with you, saying that anyone who did would become the next target for their best prank yet. However, you didn't think that threat would extend to staff members.

When Delores Umbridge walked through the doors of Hogwarts School, she didn’t plan to let you all go about your regular business. She had a plan, which involved corporal punishment. They had found you buried under a pile of duvets in your room, missing both lunch and dinner. When they first stepped into your room, they didn’t think you were even there until they heard soft whimpers coming from the blanket pile.

Pulling back a few layers revealed your shaking form. Eyes red and puffy from hours of crying and arm red raw from both Umbridge’s quill and the insatiable urge to itch that comes with any scar. The mantra on your arm read ‘I shall pay more attention in class instead of daydreaming’.

Even when you tried to hide away and burrow back into the safety of the blankets, George cradled your face in his hands.

“Sweet girl, it’s okay. She got you too, did she? Why don't you come out and let me and Freddie look after you”

The effect they had on you was pure magic. They could talk you into anything with their soft voices. You slowly emerged, clinging to George like a baby koala while Fred took the chance to examine your arm. He cooed softly as he pressed a kiss to your palm.

“Baby, you’ve been touching it haven’t you? You know you’re not meant to scratch your scars”

All Hogwarts rooms had a first aid box. Nothing too fancy, just a few bandages and elixirs for those first years who couldn't wait to duel. Although Fred could have used a spell to soothe your wound, a simple bandage had that closeness and cozy feel to it. There's something romantically tragic about bandaging your lover's wounds.

His fingers applied the elixir like a massaging oil before carefully applying the bandage. All the while, your face stayed tucked into George's neck. George splayed his fingers across your back, his lips brushing along your ear.

“We just want to take care of you. That’s all we’ve ever wanted, sweet girl”

Fred set aside the bottle and sat on the bed, his hands finding your hips. He slowly pulled you from George's lap and onto his own, his chest against your back while his hands encircled your middle. You didn't mind when his hands drifted to your abdomen, they always made you feel so safe.

“I bet no other boy has ever taken care of you, have they?”

George cooed while his own hands stroked your thighs, slowly getting higher. When you shook your head, he moved forward to part your thighs and nestle between them, causing your skirt to ride up. Fred pulled your skirt up slowly, letting you object if you wanted to.

“We know how to take care of pretty babies like you. You just have to trust Georgie and I. You can do that, can’t you?”

They already knew that you were putty in their hands, but your meek approval made it so much better. George slowly pulled your panties down and put them in his pocket before he spread your legs more. Just a glance at you told him all he needed to know. You really were a virgin. He shot Fred a glance before both boys just stared at you. Fred pressed a kiss to your ear.

“Are you sure you want this, baby? To give yourself to us like this? We can’t go back afterwards”

Your meek voice filled their ears despite how quiet you were.

“I want you both. Please? Please make the pain go away”

George leaned forwards and kissed your lips, his hand trailing down to stroke your clit. He revelled in the surprised whimper that seemed to escape you. While his thumb rubbed slow circles over your button, his fingers glided down to tease your pussy. George gathered your slick and slowly pushed his finger inside. You were tight. Too tight.

“Baby, do you ever…play with yourself?”

You looked up at Fred first before looking at George, your cheeks pink.

“No, is that wrong?”

Oh, you were sweet.

Fred pressed a kiss to your temple while George's lips kissed the tip of your nose. They wanted to teach you everything. Every kissing technique, every position, every special toy. You would be their eager little student, desperate for kisses and praise. They wondered if you got wet just from being called their good girl.

“It's not wrong at all, sweetie. It just means that Georgie and I get to spend more time with you. Practice makes perfect, right?”

George's finger slid back inside of you, keeping a slow pace to let you adjust. Fred's hand toyed with your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples while his other hand rested across your middle to keep you still when you squirmed. Every moan filled their ears as if you were their own private singer. Pure music. George could feel how much of your juices was coating his fingers, you were wet enough for more. His second finger joined the first, your walls practically suffocating them. His fingers angled up and pushed deeper.

A loud moan left your lips, your walls clamping down on George's fingers. Your body squirmed in Freds grip. His hand left your nipples to cover your mouth. God forbid anyone heard and interrupted them. George kept his thumb on your throbbing clit, adding pressure to keep you spaced out.

When your moans slowly subsided, George slowly pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to his lips. Fred kept you in a tight grip, his hand leaving your mouth to stroke your cheek softly. Your body trembled between them, eyes still closed and chest heaving for oxygen.

“You did such a great job, baby. Such a sweet girl. I bet Georgie’s fingers felt so good”

They waited a while before deciding to clean you up, wanting to take in the pretty sight for a while longer.

They liked how pretty their girl looked for them.

[suguru-getos]

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — K. Bakugou x f!Reader

Summary: You, a top model meet pro hero Dynamight on your Victoria's Secret fashion show. You didn't know how easily you both could cling like magnets. Maybe you found your soulmate, why else does it seem so easy? So loving? So ethereal? A/N: I missed writing my Jerk (Bakugou) so here I go. The character is giving off Y/N from Wattpad almost (KEKEKEK) :3 What! Sue me! Also brb gonna take a bath in holy water after this. Not beta'd take the typos like a pro ;) also this is probably my longest fic IN A WHILE and that's saying something!!! Warnings: N!pple play, F!ingering, S3x(P in V), missionary, doggy-style, squ!rting, breed!ng, dirty talk, spank!ngs. Let me know if I missed anything. :3 Oh and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

You sucked in a breath when you heard the announcements go off, the announcer urging the models to get done with their hair & makeup fast. It wasn’t like any other show, honestly. It was the Victoria’s Secret show. The internet alone can swamp any and every other news when this ‘phenomenon’ occurs. You have been on a strict diet of salads, high pilates & cardio, and for the past two days — dehydration to show your abs more. Being a successful model is all about making it look effortless even if it’s all graft, tenacity & utterless devotion. No career is easy at the end of the day after all.

“Y/n, are you okay? The show is about to start.” Your manager, also the manager of this event comes up to you, long, poised strides in her red bottom pencil heels. She’s wearing a satin, well-tailored coat and a skirt. “Can’t wait to munch on a fucking burger and drink a gallon of cold soda.” You smirk, your eye makeup was completed, the final touches of the makeup setting spray was splayed on by the makeup artist tending to you.

“You look gorgeous, Y/n.” He commented, voice feminine & fashion sense incredible. He was gay, and one of your best friends in the industry. “Man, so many people would be here in the show.” You snorted, “who’s coming to sing?” Your curiosity is piqued. There is always a star who comes in and makes sure the runway ends up a much better experience.

“It’s Jungkook.” Your manager responds curtly.

“Fuckin’ hell they literally bagged Jungkook?” You scoffed almost, ah— shit. Jungkook has a massive following, of course they would. Even if he’s your ex boyfriend. Of course they fucking would. You pursed your lips, your relationship with him was entirely kept a secret. He’s an idol, worshipped infact— and that ended up for the best when you parted ways. The NDA was perfect. Though you often wondered if the glamour you chose for yourself would ever allow you a fair chance at getting the right partner.

“Eh, Jungkook’s not my type.” Your bestie, the makeup artist Samuel hums, his shoulders shrugging up. “I got my eyes on the heroes.” He winks, adjusting the last finished strands of your hair. The heroes…

“I don’t understand why the heroes are invited to stuff like these.” You roll your eyes. It is weird to think about. He chuffs, “oh come on— they’re just as big of celebrities & events like these are all about glamour and showing off.” He snorts, “Dynamight’s coming, Star and Stripes is coming, a lot of the heroes who are under the top three would be here. Gahh I wonder how Dynamight looks in a suit… dude’s fucking jacked. I’m drooling just thinking about it.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Okay okay, drooling dog. Leave me alone and let me calm my tits before the walk begins.”

Dynamight huh, Katsuki Bakugou. The number one hero of Japan. He is popular enough, you have seen him bag the Calvin Klein’s Times Square ad. Your fingers itched towards your phone, searching up Dynamight on Instagram. There were two accounts. One of them was the official hero account, named Dynamight. The other was— seemingly his personal account, it was named BakugouKatsuki. Both of them were public though. Ah, you will stalk him later. Now isn’t the best time.

You get up, itching in your feet into the pencil heels and stretching your body. Amidst the ruckus, you were given your Victoria’s Secret wings, and your lingerie set. It was beautiful, you’d give them that. They do end up spending and extravagant amount of money for this after all. “Phew, I’m ready.”

There were other models lined up before you, you had been the show-stopper. It’s flamingly obvious not to think much about yourself, but you’d give yourself credit for being one of the top models in the entire industry. You also have a whooping Instagram following, and your socials are always stacked with brand deals. Jungkook was singing Seven, a safe version. You don't want to be delusional and think he chose that song because he wrote it for you, nah, you and him are over for good. Besides, he was in a parasocial relationship with his fans. That's just not your vibe.

You exhaled, engaging your core and coming out finally. It was your turn to go in and leave the crowd in absolute awe. Your time to shine! Yeah, your time to shine. No matter how many shows you have participated in, the feeling before the runway is second to none. You stepped out, peppering flying kisses to the crowd as you passed by Jungkook, catwalking.

You didn't think the first person your eyes would meet would be Bakugou himself, it was eye contact that lasted a few seconds, as you turned around and walked back inside, coming out with the fashion designer and clapping.

"What was that Bakubro?" Red Riot was sitting beside his high school best friend, smirking when he noticed Katsuki caught red-handed. "Didn't you say you have no interest in watching models and this was a waste of time?" He snickers, pulling Katsuki's leg.

Katsuki.... on the other hand, was mesmerized. He had never seen someone so beautiful. Honestly, he wasn't one to keep up with the models and the glamour the industry had to offer. He had a simple routine, focus on training, go patrolling, partake in brand deals, and sleep by 9 pm. This seemed different, especially when the eye contact you both had was so magnetic. What the fuck was happening to him he wondered... why was he behaving like a high school student all over again. Dynamight was in his late twenties now. It's not to say that he hasn't dated people at all, he has, in fact, he has a fair share of girlfriends too. He just wasn't expecting you to latch onto his heart & rip it out of his chest (respectfully).

Maybe he dan divert his mind until after the show. The Victoria's Secret brand had dealings with the Bulgari Hotel in Milan. (Where the show was held), of course, your and Katsuki's suites would be on the same floor. The show was a huge success, you knew it the moment you walked back inside and got jump-hugged by the entire team. They loved your walk, and it made you grin like an appreciated child.

"Finally I can binge." You snickered, getting out after thirty minutes or so from the show. In your head, the eye-contact with the ruby-eyed man was nothing much, merely a coincidence perhaps. You don't know much about Bakugou Katsuki anyway. You do tell your gay best friend about it though, chuckling & giggling at how he loses his mind over it. "I think Dynamight will stay in the same hotel as mine, but before leaving, I can secure an autograph for you if you'd like."

"YOU'D DO THAT?" Samuel is on top of the world when he hears your offer. How nice and kind of you. "I could do that of course!" You smile, he has been great and helpful in calming your nerves before your show. You can do that for him without thinking twice. "Great, thank you so much Y/N! You are a literal gem." He whines, kicking feet in excitement. "Dynamight's known for being intimidating and a no-bullshit guy, so just be...careful." He smiled. You raised a brow at the description, chuckling. Whatever, it's just an autograph. You were sure Samuel was just fangirling.

You walked towards Bakugou and his friend Red Riot, wearing a plain white tee shirt and some shorts. A Prada handbag over your shoulder, Cartier bracelet set on your left arm, and some boots just so you look fine in case you get accidentally papped. "Uh oh, Hottie alert, Hottie alert. She's coming this way Bakugou." Kirishima warns, while Katsuki doesn't turn, smirking. "Maybe she's into you just as much huh?" "Shut up, Kiri. I'm not even into her." What a lie, what a damned lie, because when you tap his shoulder, his entire body shudders.

"Hey- Dynamight, hi!" You smile, watching him turn to face you. Geez, he's tall and big, the blonde doesn't make him look any less intimidating. He has a scar on his eye but it only accentuates his gruff and masculine look. You swallow, "Hey there." Katsuki raises a brow, smirking at you. "Y/N right? The fabulous show stopper." He praises, and you can't help but blush a little.

"Hehe, yeah, thank you so much." You gently tussle through your bag, taking out a notepad. "Can I please get an autograph?" You smile, you wouldn't be one of those cunts who would outrightly say that it's not for you. Why do you need to specify explicitly anyway? "Aww, she's a fan?" Katsuki grins, taking the notepad from you. "Haha!" You don't respond. You don't want to ruin the vibe of the interaction. Unlucky for you, Bakugou is a pest. "So should I write Y/N, or ShowStopper Y/N?" He smirked, uh oh... "You can make two?" You raised a brow, smiling softly. "One for me and one for Samuel, my makeup artist." You smile. "Sure can." He writes the autograph, smirking, "You didn't want an autograph did ya?" Ouch, how did he catch you red-handed so easily? "Hm? Why do you feel so?" You raise a brow, taking the notepad from him. "I'm the number one hero of Japan, Sweetheart. I got my own tricks up my sleeve." He smirked, oh what a charming guy. You wonder why is he infamous for being intimidating then... maybe just his personality and his looks. "I don't mind getting one, honestly, who knows I might become a fan in the future." You smiled back. "Oh yeah? That's gonna make me real fuckin' proud of yer taste, Sweetheart." He grins, and Kirishima has long excused Bakugou and you to chitchat alone.

You chuckled, oh my, he was cocky and yet charming enough to pull it off. Meanwhile, all Bakugou thought was how your eyes are so pretty, and you smile so easily it should be illegal. Your smile makes even the crankiest of people smile. Him included.

"Whatcha doin' after this?" He asks you, raising a brow. Please be free, please be free. "Ah- it's just, my own ritual of unwinding after fashion shows to go and binge on junk food. I am going to this amazing pizza place." You smile, and Bakugou notices your body, you are stunning, but it's clear you need to maintain unrealistic standards for this. "Mind if I join?" He confidently asks, Bakugou Katsuki's confidence ever since he was a child was sky high. He doesn't mind chasing what he wants, he doesn't mind latching on to what he wants. He doesn't mind putting in the work for what he wants. Whether it's the number one hero ranking, or his new ambition - You.

"You can." You perk up, of course, you don't mind that. You wonder if he's asking you on a date or just hanging out with you. "Alright then, let's go?" You ask him again, truth be told you were starving. You need a lot of water down your stomach and also, food. "Lead the way Kitten."

You blink at the nickname, Kitten? "Kitten?" You snorted, why? "Yeah, cus you walk the show like a little lion cub," he smirked, quite assertive behind his reasoning. It makes your heart flutter. "I, see... interesting. Is it something you do? Give people you like, nicknames?" "Yeah, it's a me thing," Katsuki smirked, he loved how you sneakily asked him whether he likes you or not. "I do that to people I hate too though." He teased, biting his lip and smirking at the confused pout. "Not you though, I like ya." He admits upfront. Katsuki doesn't want to play games. It's either he doesn't give a shit, or he's into it dedicatedly.

You gnaw at your lip, walking ahead of him, thank god your back is turned towards him. Else you'd be embarrassed of just how easily he can sway you off your feet. You and him get into the car after, driving to the nearest pizza place. Your knees touch during the car ride, fuck why are you thinking about the slightest of touches Jesus! Neither of you avoid the touch though. "So I'm guessing the pre-walk schedule is pretty ass, huh?" You like that he wants to know about you in a 'I want to get to know you better' sense and not in a 'I want to hook up and leave you after' sense. "Yeah, the last four days I have been dehydrated. I can enjoy in peace now though, before the next show." You nod, looking at him in the eyes, evaluating his expressions. Bakugou looks, conflicted. On one hand, he admires this, on the other hand, he's pissed that this is what gets imposed. He clicks his tongue, "If I were to organize a damn show I'd make sure none of the dehydration shit happens, tch." You chuckle at how intensely he feels about it. It makes you feel validated, makes you feel seen and heard. "Yeah? Maybe you can organize one for your merch." You winked.

"Fuckin' Brilliant aren'tcha?" Katsuki exclaims, grinning wide. He would, and you'd be the show stopper, and it would be a statement towards normalizing human bodies. It sounds so perfect in his head, he would definitely bother his Assistant about this later.

When you both reached the Pizza place, Bakugou gets your door, smirking when you are almost shocked by it. "What? The least ya can do is expect a Hero to be chivalrous, ye?" You giggle, holding his hand, noticing the sheer difference in your hands versus his. Your hands are soft, meek, delicate, having their own hand care routine. His hands are smooth, a little moist due to sweat which you think doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother you either honestly. Plus, he smells amazing... almost in a way that could make you dizzy from it all.

"Um, what should I call you? Dynamight? Bakugou? Katsuki? Japanese people prefer to be called by their last name until they explicitly give permission, no?" You have done a few shows in Japan and know a thing or two about their culture. Bakugou only smirks harder, holding your hand & caressing it with the pad of his thumb, he leans it up to show you. "If I'm holdin' yer hand, I'd prefer to be called Katsuki, Sweetheart." "Y-Yeah, right." You are flustered. The way he looks at you is so intense and yet calming. This man is almost paradoxical.

You both get inside, taking one of the cozy booths of the restaurant. The vibe of the place is luxurious, Grenadil, African Blackwood, lamps which are delicately hand-carved. The place speaks Old-Money.

Bakugou takes a seat next to you, handing you the laminated menu with exquisite handwritten Calligraphy, "There ya go." He smirks. You notice the menu he has given you has no prices on the dishes. He has his own menu. "Uh, they have no money imprinted, are you sure this menu is okay?" This is your first time seeing this. "Yeah, s' okay. S' cus y'er not supposed to be worrying about the price of the dishes." He says it rather assertively. "The man should." He shows his menu. Oh- Of course, for a place this extra, they would have some new ritual like this for all the trophy-wives. "Katsuki- no- I'd feel guilty." You pouted. "Yeah? Yer gonna feel guilty for it bein' my job to spoil ya? On a date? Our first date?" All of a sudden, every doubt in your mind is faded. Things were escalating so quickly yet, you feel like you know this man for years, how bizarre, how comforting, how amazing! The way your heart breaks into little palpitations of excitement is second to none.

You looked down, a hue of red creeping into your cheeks. ''Gah would ya look at that!" Bakugou points at your flustered expression instantly. "She's the prettiest baddest Queen in this world, and I got her feelin' cutesy and feminine, ye?" Yes, yes it has... it's always the little things after all. You chuckle, looking up at him, extending your hand over the table so he could hold it. "You smell amazing, Katsuki." You compliment him too.

Honestly, you have never felt someone smelling this amazing as Bakugou. "Yeah? Part of my charm." He croons in his gravelly voice, the tip of his tongue brushing his upper teeth in a mischievous grin. "S' a part of my quirk." He admits, leaning back and manspreading a little. Your heart feels like it would jump out of your chest at that, you swallow the thick lump of saliva. "Yeah?" "Yeah, that's right Sweetheart." Bakugou hums again, kissing your knuckle. "What about you, have any quirks?" "Unfortunately, nope." You chuckle, a little embarrassed. You know if this man is the number one hero of Japan, he must have a formidable quirk after all. "Aw, she's my little quirkless rarity gem ain't she?" "Yeah."

Katsuki's words were healing something within you that you didn't know was broken. You were feeling all sorts of things, slightly aghast at how easily your senses feel dizzy around the true embodiment of masculinity. A little merry on how you don't have to think about anything and let him take care of you. You needed this after the tough show you've had. You ordered a pizza, and some drinks with it. "So, what next?" You don't want to get too ahead of yourself either. Maybe all this could fade the moment you both sleep together.

"Next, we go on another date, then another, then another. In between those dates, I'll steal a kiss or two." He grins. Making you chuckle, how old school... "That's all you will steal?" You ask him, quite upfront on your own this time. "Mm~ I can't be too greedy or I might make a certain Kitten uncomfortable." He winks.

"Would I make a certain hero uncomfortable if I stole more than a kiss?" You smirk, watching Bakugou grin in surprise. "Nah, the hero wants what his Princess wants." He admits shamelessly.

The dinner goes by in a haze, Bakugou asks you about your family, how many people are there in your nuclear family, you ask him, a little bit of what and hows about starting a career. You get to know he's a Taurus, and his MBTI Type is ENTJ, his Enneagram is 8w7. No wonder he is so steadfast and determined. The dinner ended with you two getting back to go to the same hotel, walking and chit-chatting through your lives, how a daily routine in your lives looks like, favourite coffee order, favourite animals, favourite bands, favourite brands, favourite foods.... until Bakugou was in front of your suite.

"Uhm, goodnight Katsuki." You smile, getting on your tippy toes and kissing his lips softly. A burning sensation ripples through your nerves instantly. Oh no- now you can't stop. Now he can't stop. There is an unsaid desperation in the way you & him deepen the kiss, a relief washing over you as the suite's door gets unlocked with a beeping sound of your card against the sensor.

You jump on him immediately, cupping his face, scratching his undercut, rabid pants echoing through the room as you lean back to catch a breath. "Wildin' aren't we?" Bakugou smirked, leaning you against the wall with his hand supporting the back of your head as he kissed you more, fuck you have awakened something carnal within him. "Yeah- yeah-" You manage to choke on your breaths as he dives against your neck, nibbling at the supple skin, licking the tender ache. "Katsuki- please-" You want more. Especially now when you can feel his semi nudged against your heat. You want it so bad, you didn't even know him a few hours ago... and now here you were.

"Yeah? Are ya sure?" He asks, seriously. He doesn't need this to be hurried. "Yeah, I'm sure."

And that was all Bakugou needed, his lips smashing against you once more, tongue exploring your mouth, colliding against yours, his mouth wrapping around your tongue and suckling nastily. Katsuki leans back, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his. He supports you by your booty, hands kneading the area on your clothed shorts as he manspreads on the couch, watching how you straddle him. You take off your shirt on your own, and unhook your tee shirt bra next. Before you can switch to your shorts, Katsuki removes his own shirt. Oh my god-

He is jacked, and there are battle scars all over his body. Your hand leans in, absentmindedly tracing one of them. You could only imagine how dangerous it must be, how dangerous his line of work is. Everyday he keeps his life on the line to protect people like you - to protect those who can't fend for themselves. Your eyes softened, and Bakugou notices you lean into the duvet of your thoughts. "Hey, they're from years ago." He smirked, kissing your cheek. "Literal years, when I was Baby Dynamight." He chuckled, lightening up your mood instantly. He leans in, hands kneading and groping at your now perky breasts and tits. "She's fuckin' stunning god damn." He cusses under his breath, eagerly wrapping his tongue around one of the nipples, while his fingers pinched and played around with the other. The sensation sends waves of pleasure down your core, it aches so deliciously good. You lean your head back, gasping out at the welcomed assault on your body. This was beyond perfect. "Katsuki-" You mumbled, just chanting his name as he switches to the other nipple, his hand caressing your sides, knuckles caressing the temples of your cheek. "Mhm~ so perfect, Princess."

Every action only makes you dive deeper into a space you've never dived on before. His fingers skilfully unbutton your shorts next, peeling off your panties. "Let's check what's the situation." He smirks, though his ruby eyes are steeled on your face. Massive hands cupping your bare pussy, you can feel your essence coat his palm, but you're not shy anymore. You want him to know he does this to you. You want him to be aware of the effect he has on you. "Fuckin' soaking." He smirked, middle finger and ring finger parting your entrance while his middle finger nudged against your tight hole. The tip pierces inside your pussy almost instantly. "Oh perfect little thing." He snickers, curling it just the right way to make your eyes roll back. "Yeah baby, keep makin' that pretty face f'me." He groans, leaning in and latching onto your sensitive tits again. "Not sorry bout it in the least, need to mark ya." He groans, suckling against your skin, marking your breasts in hickeys while he drills his finger inside your cunt. The pleasure has you reeling soon, eyes rolling back. "Katsuki- please-" you buck your hips against him helplessly, pussy twitching and fluttering shamelessly. "Yeah baby? Gonna cum?" He croons, smirking at the way your body gets littered in goosebumps. "Mhm~ Yeah." You nodded like a bobble head, the pleasure reaching new heights. "Gonna make a mess on Daddy's fingers?" he asks again, almost edging you. The new nickname has you clamping tightly as a reaction, Bakugou chuckles. "Then cum."

Your entire body shivers at the assault, his thumb finding it's way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles around the bundle of nerves, watching you tweak and tremble. "Atta girl! Good job little one." He smirked, quickly changing your position to laying on the couch with him hovering over you. His hand never leaves your clit, pulling out a long and tiring orgasm as his massive cock greets you. Before you could say anything before you could protest in whines that his massive, veiny cock could never fit inside you. It could break you- his cock fills you up instantly.

You see white, your senses are torn apart. The pain surges through your body like venom, filled with excruciating amounts of pleasure. You scream out, cunt almost ripped open despite being so wet and so lubed. "Kah- AH- t'suki-" You are broken, this is exactly how you expected it to feel like. Still, you want him to move, you want him to make you feel better. You want him to show you how it feels when he's pistoning this inside and out, when he's ruining your insides his shape.

Bakugou leans in, caressing your face and peppering it with soft kisses. "Yeah Princess, you did it." He praises, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against him at the praise. You need him. "Uh huh? Wan' Daddy to take care of you?" He smirked at that, relishing your shameless movements, his cock jams against your pussy, fervour akin to an animal in a rut. You feel so good he can't help but want more either, thrusts powerful enough to cause your breasts to jiggle from the impact. "Atta girl, look at you, taking me like yer made for me." he groans, watching your fucked out expressions, listening to your melodious cries that only make him push you further. "Kah- Mm!"

His hand caresses your clit, pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves, tap-slapping it, caressing it, playing with it. Every movement sends you reeling towards the peak of pleasure. It's not too long before you feel like cumming again, a familiar knot building in your pelvis, eager to snap. "Gonna fill ya up, yeah? Need your insides to know who knocked em up' need yer pussy to know who fucked her up, who stretched her up, who ripped her up to his shape-" The way he speaks is making you spiral, your mouth falls agape as another orgasm tears through you. Helplessly wailing and letting your pussy flutter around his muscular and veiny cock. His own release comes with it, hot and thick seed painting your insides his.

You're panting like you've just run a marathon, Bakugou's sweat only making your senses hazy with its sweet, caramel scent.

"Got one more in ya?" Bakugou asks with a smirk, watching your eyes widen. You are thinking, you are contemplating. "N-never did it before." You answered honestly. "Good, then it's my princess' first time." He smirked, manhandling you to bend over the couch's arm rest, letting your legs nudge together. "Get on yer tippy toes Kitten." he kneads at your ass, spanking it once just to test the waters.

The whore-ish moan that comes out of your mouth at that only makes him more amazed. "She likes spankings huh?" He smirks, slapping on the other side and watching his hand print cover almost your whole ass cheek. "Fuck-" He hissed at the sight, watching you get on your tippy toes as he pierces your cum-dripping pussy once again. Your stomach is already pressed by the arm-rest. The position is enough to make you see stars, you can't form words. Just mewling and moaning with mouth open. His thrusts are a lot precise, a lot sharper, a lot more calculated and a lot more rough.

The force of his pelvis colliding against your ass feels like spankings in itself, your womb is crying at the feeling, your cunt squelching and making lewd noises that echo like music to his ears, just perfectly entwined with your loud moans. "Fuck- you are bloody gonna have me addicted to this shit." He groans, sounds of pap- pap- paps filling the room.

You feel weird, you feel like you could pee from the pressure alone. "Katsuki- feel like gonna squirt." You whine, embarrassed. "Aw, it's okay, do it." He hums, hand wrapping around your hair and tilting your head back for a passionate kiss.

And so you let go, you don't have any choice anyway with his thrusts ripping your pussy. "Fuck- fuck-" and so you end up squirting, the liquid dripping down your thighs as you cum your brains out. Katsuki tips off the edge at the sight too, oh what a lovely mess indeed. "Oh that's fuckin' incredible" He chuckles, slowing his thrusts to a stop.

You are floating in subspace already. You can't believe the hero you were going to stalk on Instagram has your insides bred, twice. Katsuki carries you princess-way and takes you to the bedroom, "gonna get ya some water, you were so amazin' holy shit Princess." he chuckles, peppering your face with soft, feather-like kisses. You only hum and groan in response, he literally fucked your brain into mush.

He returned with some water and added electrolytes that he found in the fridge to ensure better hydration. "Come on, champ, c'mere." He cradles you on his lap like a baby - his baby to be precise. He held the glass for you, letting you drink from the straw while his other hand is busy petting your body soothingly, your arms, your hair, your back.

"Do you want to sign an NDA? If we're gonna be a thing?" You asked him, genuinely curious, but it upsets him that this is the first thing that you say. This industry really is disgusting. "Nah, I'd like you to sign an NBA."

You raised a brow, what does that mean? "Mm?"

"Non-Breakup Agreement" He chuckled, watching you giggle too as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

[thescarletfang]

SPINNING OUT [part two]

Here it is! Part two!

Read part one here.

Dr. Jack Abbot x ex!freader

Summary: You left Jack three months ago, convinced he'd given up on your marriage. When you're hit by a drunk driver, you're taken to PTMC, and what was supposed to be an ending gives way to a new beginning.

Word count: ~8k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+, MDNI

Warnings: Angst, fluff, car accident, time jumps and flashbacks, therapist reader, widower Jack, dead wife mentioned!, SMUT, nipple worship (lol), death of a child mentioned, vaginal pain mentioned, p in v sex, oral sex, eventual happy ending. Slight age gap (reader is 38, Jack is 49 in present day). If I missed anything, let me know!

taglist (I only tagged you if you have your age in your bio!!! Sorry but I'm a stickler about it, especially when my work contains smut. If you wanna be tagged, add that age in your bio!).

@espressheauxs, @imherefordeanandbones, @ emma8895eb, 

@bitters-n-sweets @absinthe-over-tea, @wowitsafemale, @sophreakingfunny, @abbotjack, @thatcorporategirlie, @grimpowrrs, @telepathay

PART 2 

BEFORE

When you arrive to Jack’s place three evenings after your first date, your entire body is buzzing. 

You’ve texted each other every day. Jack’s called you after all of his shifts, as the sun is cresting over the city skyline and you’re just waking up, loose-limbed and heavy-eyed. It’s been 72 hours since you kissed under the moonlight in front of your home and you itch to be back in his presence. You feel delirious and wild, and you cannot stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you. 

You remind yourself there’s no expectation for tonight. You want to sleep with Jack, obviously, but you don’t want to rush him. You don’t even know if he wants that. You feel close to him but the reality is it’s only been three days, so you need to calm the fuck down. 

Now you find yourself standing in Jack’s home, a glass of wine in your hand, taking in this man’s space while he fusses with dinner in the kitchen with a dish towel over his right shoulder. You glance at him as he throws garlic into the pan, lowering the heat as it sizzles in the oil. You thought you’d be nervous when he opened the door, but his crooked grin, his dimples, his entire energy calmed your fluttering heart. 

His condo is simple and clean. There’s not much in the way of personality, but you figure that’s because he practically lives at the hospital. You wander over to the bookshelf in the living room and grin at his collection of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.  You also see a few photos. Jack with his sisters and nieces and nephews; this makes you grin. There’s one in particular that you like; it’s Jack with a young (maybe nine or ten), curly-haired girl on his shoulders at what appears to be some sort of backyard birthday. It’s precious. There’s one of Jack from when he was in the army with a few military buddies, leaning against a combat vehicle in the desert. He looks skinny and haunted, and you have a hard time looking at it. Jack and Robby, from a fishing trip you remember vaguely hearing about a few years ago, though it’s funny now to think that the “buddy” Robby was heading to the cabin with was, in fact, this Jack Abbot. 

And then there is a framed photo of Jack and his wife on their wedding day. They can’t be more than 25-years-old in the picture. Jack’s hair is auburn, and his freckles stand out even more with his youthful, round, clean-shaven face. They’re smiling at one another and they look so sweet it makes your heart clench. You’re shocked to find your eyes prickle as you gaze at this photo, but you cannot help it. It is so unfair that she isn’t here anymore and that Jack had to go through that. 

You’re so grateful that this man has invited you into his space, that he hasn’t hid any parts of himself from you. 

You turn to said man now and find him watching you from the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed (ridiculously sexy in his plain, blue t-shirt), and he has this little grin on his scruffy face. You feel yourself warm under his gaze and make your way to him, sipping your wine as you do so. 

“You caught me snooping,” you say lightly, and his eyes light up. 

“I explicitly told you to snoop while I finish this,” he says, uncrossing his arms and taking the dish towel from his shoulder. “Find anything interesting?”

You stop just a few feet from him in his kitchen and smile. “I like your pictures and book collection.”

He studies you and you feel like he’s trying to decipher whether or not you’re teasing him. 

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Also, it is hilarious to me that you and Robby go on fishing trips. Very sweet…and geriatric of you both.”

Jack’s eyes light up at the teasing, scoffing in mock-offense. “Hey now. Fishing trips are cool.”

You laugh. “I didn’t say they weren’t!” A beat. “Just a coupla peepaws catching trout. It’s cute.” 

He grins, dimples showing through, and turns to the stove. “Maybe I won’t feed you after all.”

“Now that’s just rude. I’m famished.”

He shrugs, shoots you a mischievous glance over his shoulder, and it’s so fun and sweet that you can only smile like an idiot in return. 

Jack does, in fact, feed you. And Jack Abbot, MD., is an amazing cook. It’s some sort of risotto with creamy mushrooms and lemon chicken and a ton of herbs and you’re so impressed you have to try and school your features into a poker-face lest you come off as desperate as you feel. Dinner is a relaxed affair, at his little table, and as you both eat you chat about your days, and work. By the time both of your plates are clean, your body is buzzing. 

You sip your half-full glass of wine and Jack sips his and you both kinda just stare at each other for a moment. It’s loaded and you wonder how crazy it would be to crawl into his lap right now, to bracket his hips with both of your thighs, grind yourself on him—

Jesus, you need to get a hold of yourself. A string of bad dates and you’re ready to jump the bones of the first man you meet who’s competent, and handsome, and has a great job, and is in therapy, and can cook—

Jack clears his throat. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” he asks, rubbing a hand along his scruff and breaking through your mile-a-minute thoughts. 

You nod. Jack nods back, and your heart pounds.

You pick something mindless — an old 90s thriller, because those comfort you, and you sit on Jack’s couch which is shockingly cozy and comfortable (you make a mental note to ask him where he got it when your mind isn’t on a loop of Jack Jack Jack). 

Jack sits next to you but not right against you, though you can feel his body heat. You both crack jokes about the movie, and about 30 minutes in you feel his arm go across the back of the couch behind you. Your heart thuds and you move a little closer to him, and then a few minutes later you feel his fingers graze your shoulder and you are now, finally, pressed against his side. You can smell his soap and his detergent and it smells clean and divine and Jesus, are you about to sniff him?

You really, really try to keep your breathing even but when his thumb grazes back and forth on your shoulder, you can’t help it. You both haven’t said anything in a while, and you can hear Jack’s breathing, can feel the heat of him. Your breath picks up just a little bit because you might explode from how badly you just want to touch him. 

Your hand finds his thigh. 

Jack’s sharp intake of breath spurs you on and you look up at him through your lashes and he’s already looking down at you, his jaw clenched and tight like he’s—like he’s holding himself back. 

You bite your lip and Jack actually fucking groans and your hand moves just the slightest bit higher on his leg and Jack swallows. 

“Hi,” you breathe. 

“Hi,” he croaks, voice broken and sacred between you. 

“Movie’s not over,” you whisper. 

Jack’s eyes rove over your face. When he looks at you, it’s like he’s taking in every single feature and rather than make you feel exposed, it makes you feel fucking beautiful. 

“I couldn’t care less about the movie,” Jack tells you and that’s all you need. Your chest rises and expands and Jack’s eyes flicker for a moment down to your chest and then quickly back to lock on your gaze. 

His eyes make you feel bold. 

You sit up, throw a leg over his lap and then you’re straddling him, your hands on his shoulders and Jack’s hands find your waist and you’re so close to him and it feels so fucking good. 

“Kiss me,” you tell him. Jack bites his lip and you think I am going to fuck this man tonight. 

“Yes ma’am,” he breathes before a hand finds the back of your head and he dips you down as he surges up and your lips meet. 

It takes approximately two seconds before you’re licking into each other’s mouths, and it’s messy and so much hotter than the peck you shared when you arrived at his place. You can’t help your hips—they grind down into his lap and you can feel how hard he is, you think he must’ve been hard for the last few minutes at least and the thought drives you insane. 

You’re a little shocked there’s no awkwardness here. It’s all so easy and it makes you feel grateful you met this man at this exact point in your life, when you feel fully formed and clear about what you are looking for, what you want. 

One of his hands dips to get a palmful of your ass and you gasp into the kiss because it feels so good, everything about him feels so perfect. 

He pulls back slightly, breathing heavy, lips spit-slick and red. 

“This okay?” he husks, voice serrated and low. He goes to move his hand off your ass but you grab his wrist and keep it there. You lean forward and bite his bottom lip, tugging it gently between your teeth and Jack groans, the sound rumbling out of his chest. He looks wonderfully devastated. 

“Yes,” you breathe, and suddenly both of Jack’s hands are gripping your ass through your jeans and your lips find his again. You break apart for air and he sucks the pulse point below your jaw. Your right hand finds his curls, your left grips his shoulder, and you grind against his hard, clothed cock and you think you might actually come from dry-humping Jack on his couch. You cannot remember the last time you dry-humped anyone, let anyone have been brought to orgasm from such a thing. You feel like a teenager, hormones raging and lighting you up from within. 

“Jack,” you moan, your hips grinding faster. “I—I might—I think I’m gonna—fuck—”

Jack pulls away from where he’s sucking your neck and looks up at you, his eyes bright and dark at the same time, a look of wonder on his face. 

“Shit, really?” He looks down between you, where you’re moving and he lets out a strangled groan. “You think you can come like this? Yeah?” 

“Yes, yes,” you chant, moving faster, the rough fabric of his jeans against your own creating delicious friction. “It’s so good, Jack, you feel so good—”

Your hand grips his curls a little tighter, the couch begins to smack against the wall from the movement, and Jack moans, his eyes locking onto yours. He looks amazed and it makes you feel powerful. 

“Jesus.” His voice practically breaks on the word. “You can’t be real. You were fuckin’ made from my dreams.”

You’re babbling now because the seam of your jeans against your clit and the feel of his hard cock have you so close. 

“I’m there, I’m there, oh my fucking god—Jack—” You know you’re being loud but you can’t help it because all you can do is focus on coming on this man’s lap. “I’m coming—I’m coming—”

“Fuck, just like that, you look so pretty comin’ on me, take what you fuckin’ need.” Jack’s voice spurs you on and then you’re coming so hard you actually fucking squeal. 

Jack leans his head against the back of the couch and watches you break apart and you can actually feel his cock twitch from under you. You come down from the high of your orgasm, practically melting into his lap, your arms looping around his neck. You lean your forehead against his and you’re both panting into each other’s mouths. 

“Christ,” Jack croaks. He looks absolutely debauched. 

You’re so warm, all over, but an insecurity rushes up inside of you as your breathing begins to slowly even out. You move your forehead away from his, look him in the eyes. 

“Is it insane I want you to fuck me and this is only the second time we’ve hung out?”

Jack’s eyes flash for a moment, his jaw clenching, and then he places a tender hand around your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

“I’m followin’ your lead here. I don’t need anything, I—” He swallows. “I’m just really glad you’re here.” 

You smile because you can’t help it. “I’m really glad I’m here, too.” You lick your lips. “And I really, really need you to be inside me.” 

“Fuck.” The word is torn from Jack’s lips, followed by a disbelieving laugh. “Hold on to me.”

Your arms around his neck tighten, and his hands move to hold you just under your ass and he—he picks you up from the couch, stands with you—and you cannot believe he is carrying you right now. 

“M’too heavy,” you say shyly, burying your face in his neck. Jack barks out a laugh as he walks you down the hall and shoulders his way through what you assume is his bedroom door. You wish you had the brain power to look around but you can’t because this sexy motherfucker just carried you into his bedroom. 

“No fuckin’ way,” he tells you lowly, and when he reaches his bed he gently sets you onto it. You fall back, breathing heavy as he leans over you, hands planted on either side of your head. Your hands skate up the thick, corded muscles of his arms and you look into his hazel eyes. You smile at him because you simply cannot help it. 

Jack stares at you, seemingly cataloguing everything he sees. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you these last few days,” he rasps, a hand coming up to cradle our jaw. You bite your lip and his eyes grow dark as he watches the movement. 

“Me too,” you whisper, and it’s tender between you. He leans down, presses his lips to yours and the kiss goes from sweet to fucking hot in seconds. You bite his bottom lip, pulling on it and Jack moans into your mouth. He pulls back, staring down at you.

“Need you to take your fuckin’ clothes off,” he croaks and you whimper. You nod, sitting up and he kneels on the bed and you both quickly—frantically—undress. Jack reaches behind his head with one hand, pulling off his t-shirt in a swift movement that you internally catalogue as very fucking sexy. You pull your own top over your head, toss it to god-knows-where, and quickly unclasp your bra. Before you can undo your jeans, Jack stills your hand, moving it away from the button. He crowds slowly into you, his eyes flicking up to yours before his lips find the nipple of your left breast. He massages your right one with a large hand and it has you leaning back on your elbows and arching your back so your tit is in his palm and you’re keening. 

“You’re so sexy,” he groans out of the side of his mouth that is still around your nipple and your toes curl, your hands going into his gray curls and holding him to you, fucking latching him onto you—

You might come like this, and the realization has you huffing, “I need us to be naked. Now.”

Jeans are clumsily, messily shed, and then you are in your simple cotton panties and Jack is in his briefs and you look down—

The leg Jack has bent on the edge of the bed is prosthetic. You look up at Jack, who’s watching you closely.

“Uh, another thing I never know how to bring up,” he says and you’re taken aback when you notice he’s blushing. “Lost it overseas during my second tour.”

You feel insane because you are topless and in your underwear and this feels like an important moment. You sit up, cradle his face in your hands. 

“You wanna take it off?” You ask, your thumbs brushing the apples of his cheeks. “Do whatever makes you more comfortable. I want you.”

Jack’s eyes go a little glassy before he kisses you roughly, pushing you back down onto your back. He pulls back enough to mutter, “After,” before he descends on you again. 

The mattress and bedding is cool beneath you as Jack kisses and licks his way down your sternum. He pauses at your breasts, suckling at your nipples for a moment before licking his way down your stomach. He situates himself between your legs.  His hands find the waistband of your underwear and he glances up at you, a question in his eyes. 

“Please,” you answer, and Jack grins crookedly as he peels your underwear down your thighs. He gently drops them over the side of the bed and then Jack is pushing on your knees to open you up to him and your heart is beating so fast you’re pretty sure you can see it beneath your skin. His large hands grip your thighs as he maneuvers your legs over his freckled, broad shoulders and then he breathes you in, his entire face a breath away from your dripping cunt. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he croaks. “Jesus.” His eyes flick up to you. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes, yes—” your words break off when his tongue licks into you and oh, fuck. Fuck. When was the last time you even felt this good? You bizarrely think of the last time you slept with someone — some idiotic man a few months ago, who didn’t even go down on you — and you think this is so good, it’s so good—

“Jack,” you cry, your hands finding his hair and pulling him even closer into your pussy. He moans and you can feel the sound, can feel it down into your very core and you think you want him eating your pussy every single day for the rest of your life. 

He pulls back and licks his lips, looking up at you. “Tell me what you need, I wanna get you there.”

You put a hand to your forehead and your thighs squeeze against his ears, caging him in. 

“This—this, Jack, it’s so good—”

Suddenly Jack’s hands are under your ass and he’s pulling you even closer into his awaiting mouth and you can’t help it — you cry out so loudly you’re worried about Jack’s neighbors, but he doesn’t seem to care because he’s grinding into the mattress as he eats you. His head bobs up and down with how fervently he’s licking your pussy and you feel it but it’s — it’s not enough —

You lean up on your elbows. “Can—can you put a finger in me?”

Jack’s eyes flutter and he pulls back and you almost die when you see how wet his stubble is. He’s drenched in you. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, almost reverently. “I can do that, baby.”

He takes the middle finger of his right hand and gently slides it into you, bites his lip as he watches it go in with little resistance. 

You collapse onto your back again and the glide of his finger in and out of your pussy feels heavenly. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. 

“Yes, yes,” you babble. 

Jack kisses the inside of your thigh as he moves his finger in and out. He looks at you, eyes dark. 

“Need another?”

You nod, your hands gripping into the top cover of Jack’s bed because it’s so good when Jack gently slides in his ring finger. It’s tighter than just one but you feel yourself relaxing into the feeling, feel yourself grow even wetter with a mix of Jack’s spit from his mouth and your juices. 

“I’ve—fuck, yes like that—I’ve had some issues with pain in the past—so you—you need to get me—-fuck, Jack—get me ready—-to take you—”

You know you’re babbling but you need Jack to know this; you’ve had too many awful partners in the past who didn’t take their time, who just rammed their dick into you. That kind of pain doesn’t leave your body easily, and you’ve learned how to enjoy sex but you need to communicate this. 

His fingers keep working you but he pats your knee with his free hand. 

“Hey, look at me.”

Jack’s rasp catches your attention and you open your eyes and you look down at him. Your thighs frame his head, his gray curls are a wreck, he’s got two fingers buried deep in your pussy and you try and take a mental snapshot of the image because it’s…it’s lovely. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, and the hand that’s not between your legs holds onto your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin. “All I wanna do is make you feel good, okay? Don’t care if that means we take our time, or what. Yeah?”

You nod, feel your eyes prickle despite yourself. Jack kisses your knee. 

“I’m here with you and you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous. You taste so good and if this is all we do, I’ll be a very fuckin’ happy man. You got that?”

You nod, your entire body trembling. Jack crooks his fingers and you gasp.

“Jack,” you whisper. Jack’s eyes crinkle at the edges, softening, and then his thumb starts strumming your clit in a way that sets you on literal fire and you cry out.

“Want you to come all over my fingers,” Jack grouses, and his tongue licks into you again, as his two fingers hook into you and his thumb hits just right. 

“Oh my god,” you moan. You’re sweating properly now, feel it gather on the back of your neck and your hairline and you start to grind into Jack’s face, riding his hand and his tongue at the same damn time. Your tits jiggle with the movement and you feel worshipped in a way you’ve never felt with another man. 

You break when Jack sucks onto your clit, your second orgasm of the night cresting over you with wave after wave of pleasure. You let out a sound that is downright animalistic, and you feel Jack’s own moan all the way to your toes. 

You’re trembling, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, and Jack continues to lick and kiss you through it until you put a gentle hand in his curls and pull him off. He looks pussy drunk between your legs, panting and sweating himself. You stare at him. 

“Holy fucking shit,” you articulate like the linguistic genius that you are. Jack’s eyes brighten, a crooked smile dimpling his cheeks as he keeps eye contact with you as he presses a few more kisses into your thighs. 

“Yeah?” he croaks, lips hot on your skin.

You huff a laugh, light and breathy. You’re tingling. 

“Yeah,” you reply, tugging on Jack’s hair. He makes his way up your body, lying next to you. You face each other, and you hook a leg around his waist, cupping his jaw with your hand. 

“How do you make me feel so good?” You ask him because you’re genuinely curious. “Jesus, Jack.”

Jack’s hand finds your naked waist and he gently drags his fingers up and down the curve of your side. “I wanna make you feel good all the time,” he tells you and you believe him. 

You push on his shoulder, getting him flat on his back and you sit up on your knees. He’s still in his briefs and that absolutely needs to change. Your hands find the waistband and you look at Jack, who’s watching you with his chest rising and falling. 

“Can I?” you ask. He lets out a breath. 

“Fuck yes.”

You peel his briefs off of his—his very muscular thighs—and his cock springs free, red and standing proud, already weeping from the tip. Without thinking you wrap a hand around the base of him, your tongue sliding up the side of his cock to lick the precrum that’s dribbled out.

“Fuck!” Jack punches the word out, harsh and from his chest. You hum around him, wanting to keep going, but he gently puts a hand on the back of your neck, gently urging you off. 

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ last if you do that,” he says, voice cracked and ruined. You lift off with a final lick over his tip. You really want to suck this man dry, but Jack’s breath is so shallow you think you need to go a little easy on him. 

“Next time?” you ask, hopeful, and Jack barks out a surprised laugh, more of a huff of a breath, and nods. 

“Yeah, next time. Right now I need to be inside you.”

You quickly sit up, hovering over him. You put your hands on his chest but hesitate. 

“You don’t have any lube, do you?” 

You know you’re wet but still, penetrative sex for you without lube is not that fun. You curse yourself for not bringing your mini bottle in your purse, but you didn’t want to be presumptuous —

“Of course,” Jack says and nods toward his nightstand. “In there. It’s water-based, if that’s okay.”

You stare down at Jack Abbot and you think where the fuck did you come from?

“I really shouldn’t find the sentence, ‘it’s water based, if that’s okay,’ as sexy as I do, but Jesus, who are you?” You ask, leaning over to his nightstand and taking out the bottle. Jack’s hands land on your waist, tightening and he laughs, his ears reddening. 

“I’m 45-years-old,” he tells you, watching as you squirt some into your hand. He gasps when you spread it onto his cock, groans when you give him a squeeze. “And a doctor. I—I know to have lube—fuck, honey, you gotta stop doing that if you don’t want me to embarrass myself.”

You smirk, ceasing your stroking as you line him up at your entrance. “There’s no way you could embarrass yourself after the way you ate me out.”

Jack actually blushes, which is hilarious seeing as you’re both naked and your bare cunt is against his stomach and your hand is wrapped around his length. 

Jack’s hands squeeze your waist once. “You feel good? Ready for me?”

“Yes,” you tell him, before you begin to sink down on his cock. You both gasp, your breaths coming quickly as you take him inch by inch. The stretch hurts a tiny bit at first but you go slowly.

Jack’s head flies back against his pillow and his jaw clenches. His hands make their way to palm your ass as he bottoms out inside you. 

“Jesus, god,” he groans, and you place your hands on his chest, adjusting to the feel of him. “You’re so fuckin’ tight—fuck.”

“Gonna start slow,” you gasp, beginning to grind your hips and Jack’s eyes flick down to where you’re taking him.

“Do whatever you want, you feel so fuckin’ good—”

Your voice is breathy when you ask, “Yeah?”

Jack’s hands dimple the flesh of your ass, and he bites his lip, his eyes seemingly glued to the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your pussy. Your hips begin to move in earnest now.

“Yeah,” he croaks. 

You begin to fuck each other like you mean it. 

And you do. You mean it so much because you know this thing with Jack is special. You grind on his cock and he anchors his hands to your hips and his bedroom is a cacophony of the bed squeaking, and breathy moans, and grunts and yes, yes like that and oh fuck, fuck you feel like heaven. 

Just as your legs start to cramp up, Jack tells you for the second time this evening to hold on, and he flips you so you’re underneath him. You let out a breath as he holds himself above you. 

“Still good?” he asks. 

“Yes, so good,” you moan. Jack grabs your right leg, hitches it around his waist and begins to fuck you like it’s what he was put on this earth to do. The angle hits so good, the headboard starts to slam against the wall, your tits bounce and you claw at his shoulders and his back. 

“Fuck!” you cry when his thrusts begin to hit that sacred spot inside of you.

Jack’s lips find your shoulder, sucking on the flesh there before moving onto your neck. He turns his head where it rests against your collarbone, breathes breath onto your skin as his hips pound into you. 

“You take me so well, baby,” he groans and your hand goes to the back of his head, fisting his gray curls. “You feel unreal—come on—fuck, look at you—”

“Give it to me, Jack,” you reply, and you wrap your other leg around his waist. Your arms grip his shoulders and one of Jack’s hands slams against the headboard, allowing himself to hover above you as he pounds into you. 

“Fucking give it to me,” you moan, delirious with pleasure as his cock—slick with your wetness and the lube—hits deep inside of you over and over. 

You snake a hand between you to play with your clit and Jack groans, watches your finger, mesmerized. 

“God, that’s so hot,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word. “You’re so sexy.” 

You strum your clit and feel yourself grow close. “M’gonna come,” you babble and Jack grits his teeth. 

“Yeah? Jesus, me too baby, I’m so close.” His voice is broken. When he begins to falter in his rhythm, he rasps, “Tell me where you want it.”  

You lock eyes with him as he fucks you to the near brink of delirium. “Inside.”

“Fuck, fuck—fuck.” The mantra falls from his lips as you strum your clit at the exact right moment and you come with a scream. Jack follows a second later with a moan of his own, his head buried in your neck as you feel him coat the inside of your pussy with his come. You keep your legs wrapped around him, both of you gasping for air. Your skin is sticky and wet and you feel on fire. 

Jack gently raises himself up on his arms, looking down at you, and you both burst into laughter. 

“Jesus,” he mutters, and his face is bright red. 

“Wow,” you say back. 

You breathe into each other’s mouths for a moment, letting the comedown wash over you both.

Your eyes grow a little wide at a realization. 

“I’m on birth control. I—I’m sorry, I guess telling you to come inside of me in the heat of the moment wasn't the most responsible. No STIs either.”

Jack leans down, kisses you tenderly before slipping out of you. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to. I’m—I also recently got tested. Before our date, so—”

You sit up, still short on breath. You grin at him and he stares back at you like he cannot believe you’re here. 

You wipe some sweat off of your brow. “Gonna pee.” Before you slip out of bed, Jack snakes a hand into your hair and pulls you to his mouth. He kisses you soft, and slow, and it feels like honey. 

“You’re amazing,” Jack mutters against your mouth and you melt into him. 

You are thoroughly fucked, both metaphorically and physcially. 

And you truly believe you have never been happier. 

*** 

Jack moves into your place six months later.

After your first night together, you both decide to be exclusive quickly. You become Jack’s girlfriend, and you fit and mold into each other’s lives in a surprisingly seamless way. Robby is thrilled, of course, and despite Jack’s horrific schedule, you make it work. Sometimes (the rare and blissful times), he will get a few days off in a row, so you make the most of that time together; farmer’s market strolls, going to see a movie, trying out a new recipe together, or simply existing next one another on the couch; you, deep in your latest novel, Jack reading an old medical journal from the ‘90s (“because there’s still good stuff in here!”).

You can’t help but feel taken aback at the easiness of it all, but you refuse to let it scare you. You have spent your entire life waiting for the other shoe to drop, and you do not allow yourself to think that way now. 

So when Jack’s lease is up on his condo, you both mutually come to the decision that it makes sense to meld your lives in this way. He’s practically living at your place anyway — much more than a toothbrush on your counter and a single drawer. He is everywhere in your home; his favorite mug sits on your kitchen shelf, his books have made their way onto your bookcase, and his toiletries are permanently in the shower. You even had a bench installed in there, so he could shower without his prosthetic and be comfortable.

It just makes sense. 

That first night that Jack moves in, you find him in the kitchen, unpacking a few of his beloved stainless steel pots and pans. He looks up at you, hair disheveled, in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and your heart literally stutters in your chest. He grins, cheeks dimpling, and you walk over to him. 

“We’re not rushing this, right?” You ask it before you can think about it too much; it’s an insecurity of yours that you’re trying to bat away. Six months and living together doesn’t feel rushed for you, but you know it’s different for Jack. 

Jack, who had a marriage before you. Who had his person.

And he didn’t just lose that person. She was brutally ripped away from him in this life and it will never, ever be fair. And you just…you want to make sure that you aren’t overstepping. You would never fucking try to replace her and you love hearing about every single part of his life when he offers it to you, but you just…

You know there is baggage there. No matter how great Jack’s therapist is (and he’s fucking fantastic, you looked him up because duh), no matter how well his SSRI works, no matter how much healing he’s done, no matter how easy his smiles come to him, you can see it. Not just because you yourself are a therapist, but any human being with eyes can see it; when his nightmares wake you up at 3am; when he comes back from a harrowing shift and his eyes are dulled and he’s quiet. 

He’s still haunted. Maybe he always will be.

You know Jack (like everyone) has got his shit. 

But you just want to be…sure.

That Jack is choosing this.

This life. With you.

Jack sets the pan on the stove and turns to you, his expression calm and warm. 

“I don’t think so,” he says softly. He cocks his head slightly, beckoning you over to him. You go easily into his arms, yours snaking around his waist. He kisses your forehead, pushes some of your hair back from your face. 

“Do you?” 

You shake your head. “No. I just wanted to…check.”

Jack grins his crooked grin. “I’m grown. And I know what I want.”

You huff a laugh, feeling some of the doubt and worry slip away. “Yeah? What’dya want, Abbot?”

Jack slides his hands to cradle your jaw, brings his lips to just hover above yours. A hot coil springs loose, low in your belly.

An ember catching fire. 

You look up at him just before he says, “You.”

***

The reservation time has come and gone. 

You walk back home in the quiet evening, the sun hanging low in the sky and you’re not mad. You’re just…sad.

You miss Jack and you know it’s not his fault. And you told him you didn’t need a big deal made out of a one year anniversary, that just being home with him would’ve been enough after two straight weeks of him working every single night. 

You miss your boyfriend.

But Jack insisted on a nice dinner and he made the reservation. He switched shifts with Robby so he’d be out by 7pm (ha). He’d told you to be at the place by 7:30, that he couldn’t wait to see you, etc. etc. 

The plan was to meet at the restaurant; he’d shower and change at PTMC and you’d walk home together. 

You knew the night wasn’t going to go according to plan when a text came in at 6:55, but you were still hopeful. 

Jack Abbot: May be 5 late. 

You: no rush. ☺️

Jack Abbot: Love you. 

You: Love you. 

You didn’t expect to hear from Jack again, and at 7:15 you walked the short walk to the restaurant. They sat you down quickly and you decided to order a wine while you waited, looking over the menu. At 7:35, another text came in. 

Jack Abbot: I’m so sorry, held up. Fucking brutal here. 20 mins, tops. 

You valiantly kept your heart from sinking (seriously, you deserved an award), and took a hefty sip of your wine. You took a breath. Not his fault, you reminded yourself. 

You: Want me to order you a drink to be ready when you get here?

You (foolishly) expected him to text you back immediately, but when the 20 minutes came and went without any text from Jack, you started to feel antsy. You could feel the waiter eying you from the corner but you ignored the stare, determined to just Be Chill. 

You finished your wine at 8. You looked at your phone. 

At 8:15, you asked the waiter for the check. 

At 8:30, you left. 

Not his fault, not his fault plays like a mantra over and over in your head. You chose Jack, and his horrible schedule, and his good fucking heart. You are in love with this man because of who he is at his core, which is a man who doesn’t half-ass things. Who sees things through. Who doesn’t let someone bleed out on his watch because he has something as trivial as a dinner date to get to.

It’s just that—

It hurts, sometimes. 

To feel like the thing that he might not follow through with is you. 

Your phone buzzes as you let yourself in the front door. 

Jack Abbot: Leaving in 15. You order yet?

You scoff, toeing off your heels and hanging up your purse on the hook by the door. It is now 8:40pm. You stare at his text for a moment as you walk over to the kitchen, taking out your favorite wine glass and deciding you’re going to have your second drink in your PJs and on the couch. 

You: I’m home now, so don’t rush or anything. 

You see the three dots appear and then disappear quickly. You watch this happen a few times and you feel a ping of guilt; you’re not angry with Jack. You can’t be. You just wish he could be a little more realistic sometimes; if he hadn’t insisted on this dinner in the first place, you wouldn’t find yourself disappointed. 

Jack Abbot: Baby, I’m so fucking sorry. 

You steady your breath.

You: It’s okay! I completely understand. I’ll see you at home. 

The three dots do their disappearing act again but he doesn’t respond. You sigh, have another drink, and settle in.

Jack does not, in fact, leave PTMC 15 minutes after he sent that text. 

In fact, he doesn’t arrive home until after midnight, when you are curled up in bed, in that liminal space between conscious and unconscious. You feel the bed dip beside you, feel a hand graze your forehead. You smell the sharp scent of antiseptic and sweat and your eyes flutter open. 

Jack…

Jack looks awful. 

You blink sleepily at him and notice the dark circles under his eyes. Notice his pale, waxy complexion. The fatigue is deep in his bones and you hate it so much it feels like a physical ache. 

“Hey,” he croaks. 

“Hi,” you say as you sit up. Jack scoots over but he doesn’t break eye contact with you. This man will be at the absolute end of his rope but one thing about him? He’ll always look you square on and he won’t back down. He dips his head until he knows he’s got your gaze locked onto his.

“I’m so sorry.” It spills out of his mouth in the dark and lies on the bed between you. You shake your head, rub a hand down his back. You feel a little of the tension leave his shoulders but he’s still holding himself so tightly. 

“It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s fuckin’ not. I ruined your night, I ruined our anniversary. It ain’t okay.”

You don’t say anything. The silence stretches between you and Jack looks down at his hands, finally breaking some eye contact and taking a shaky breath.

You keep rubbing his back. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jack clenches his jaw and after a moment, he speaks. “Ten-year-old girl. Hit on her bike. Dad was too drunk to realize what happened. A neighbor brought her in. She—” his voice breaks and he rubs his eyes. “She um, she had this wild, curly hair. Like my niece.”

Your heart shatters and you scoot closer to Jack. You lie your head on his back, curling around him. He doesn't have to say that she didn’t make it. You see it and feel it in everything about him now. 

You don’t say I’m sorry. 

You say, “It’s so goddamn unfair. Hope that dad rots in fuckin’ hell.” 

Jack looks up at you, his eyes glassy. You lift your head, run a hand through his curls. “Me too.”

You sit there in shared anger about a stranger. The night hums around you, quietly and softly and it’s a sacred, tender moment. 

You’re no longer tired, so you stand up and offer your hand to Jack. He takes it like he’ll follow you anywhere. You lead him to the bathroom and turn the knobs for the shower.  As steam curls around you, you quietly undress Jack and he quietly undresses you. You help him take off the prosthetic, allow him to lean on you as you both get into the shower. 

He sits down with a groan on the bench under the spray and you don’t say anything for awhile. You simply wash each other in this small, warm place where the two of you are the only two people to exist. When you’ve both rinsed the bubbles from your hair, you go to turn off the water but Jack catches your hand. He pulls you over to where he sits on the bench, and he wraps his arms around your middle. 

Your heart aches and you run your hands through his wet curls. Jack presses his lips to your stomach, makes his way gently to your breasts. Your breath hitches when he wraps his lips around your right nipple, sucking the pebbled flesh there. You feel your core throb and you let out a gasp as he sucks on your tit, like it’s soothing him.

He lets the nipple go with a scrape of his teeth and your fingers tighten in his hair. He moves to your other breast, kissing the flesh before sucking on that one too. You feel his hand gently trail to your core. When his fingers slip through your folds, you tug on his head. 

“Jack,” you say, because you just want to make sure he’s okay. 

His mouth is still sucking on your nipple when he croaks the word, “please” like it���s ripped from his very soul. 

You bite your lip and nod and Jack keeps sucking, keeps fucking self-soothing around your nipple (and it’s so hot, he’s so perfect like this) as he slides a finger into your pussy. You cry out, the sound drowned out from the spray of the shower and Jack gently slides a second finger in and fucks you there under the spray of the water. 

You lose your breath as his thumb strums your clit and he groans against your nipple and when you break, the orgasm rising slow and steady until you’re trembling, Jack finally lifts his mouth from your breast. 

You stare down at him and reach for his aching cock but he shakes his head. 

You understand.

Your pleasure is his penance. You allow him this for tonight. 

When you’re both clean and cozy, back under the sheets, Jack draws you into his arms. You face each other and he cups your cheek, thumb stroking back and forth in a way that makes your eyes flutter. You’re drifting off, finally calm and relaxed and sated. 

“Marry me.”

Your eyes fly open and Jack is staring at you, clear as if it’s a new day. You frown, your mouth falling open.

“What?”

Jack’s eyes flit back and forth between both of yours and at one in the morning after standing you up (albeit, not his fault!), he says it again.

“Marry me.”

You freeze and you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Jack, you’ve—it’s been a long night—”

Jack turns over, opens the nightstand, and when he comes back to you he’s holding a simple gold ring with a sparkling solitaire diamond. You gape and bolt up.

“What!”

Jack slowly sits up, still holding the ring between you. “Was gonna do it at dinner. Had a whole—a whole fuckin’ speech planned.”

Your hands go to your face and your heart won’t stop beating as fast as a damn hummingbird, and you cannot believe this is happening right now, right in this moment. 

You look up at him and he’s staring at you. You feel your eyes prick. 

“You sure?” You ask him. 

Jack nods, lets out a breath. “Never been more sure about anything.”

You swallow. “It’s not—you don’t think?--we’re not—”

Jack shakes his head. His voice is raspy when he says, “It’s not too fast. I love you. Want you to be my wife.” 

You slowly take your hands away from your cheeks, which are now wet, because you are crying. “Jack.”

Jack lets out a disbelieving little laugh. “Can’t believe I met you. Never…never thought I’d have this again. Can’t believe you’re…mine.” He pauses. “If—if you’ll have me. Forever.”

“Yes.”

Jack lets out a breath that sounds more like a groan. His eyes shine. “Yeah?”

You nod, smiling and crying and it’s one in the morning and Jack is asking you to marry him. 

“Yeah, Abbot. I’ll have you. Forever.”

The smile Jack gives you puts the fuckin’ moon to shame. 

***

NOW

You aren’t awake and they cut your engagement ring and wedding band off of your finger when you went in for surgery. 

Both sit broken in a little plastic bag on a table beside your unconscious form. 

Jack sits in a chair beside you, elbows on his knees, staring at you with bloodshot eyes and praying to a God he long stopped believing in. 

He is trying to process the fact that you still wear your wedding rings, that you had them on when you were hit by that fucking drunk driver who he hopes didn’t make it and is flatlining somewhere in PTMC. He never takes his own wedding band off but he was sure you kept yours in a drawer somewhere and he doesn’t fucking know what to do if you don’t wake up.

You don’t look like yourself and he can’t equate the vibrant woman you are with this body in the bed before him. 

Robby came in earlier, tried to get Jack to leave and take a shower, eat something, drink water instead of coffee. But Jack refused. 

“I’ll watch over her, brother. You need a break.”

Jack had stared at Robby hard. “This is all my fuckin’ fault, man. I—”

Robby had stepped right up to Jack at that moment, putting a large hand on his friend’s shoulder and looking into his eyes, big brown meeting hazel. “You can’t fuckin’ think that way, Jack. It’s not true and it’s not your fault—”

“I let her go, man,” Jack croaks, eyes wet. “I pushed her away because I don’t deserve her, never did, and this—she shouldn’t—I should’ve been with her or, fuck, I don’t know—-”

Jack’s words had broken off and he’d buried his face in his hands. 

“We’re not gonna let her go this time,” Robby said, his voice cracked with pain. “She’s like my fuckin’ sister and I’m not — we’re not letting her go. We protect the hive, remember?”

When Jack didn’t answer, Robby remained silent but there, a hand on his shoulder. A steady, constant weight in this fucking nightmare Jack found himself in.

Jack now sits alone. Robby had needed to close out his cases, promising he’d be up again as soon as he was done. 

Jack doesn’t know what time it is. Can’t even remember the day of the week.

Jack aches and hurts and he deserves this pain and he just wants you to wake up. 

“Please,” he croaks into the quiet room. “Please come back to me, baby. Please.”

The steady beeping in your cold hospital room is the only answer he gets. 

It’s the only one he deserves. 

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter sixteen

⭐︎ One day I am gonna grow wings...

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, jealousy, mentions of self harm, mentions of depression, mentions of unreciprocated feelings, mentions of death, Steve's pov! a little Eddie and Steve bromance cause lego head needs a friend

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As the distance and the space between you and Steve grows bigger and colder, he begins to fall back into the pit you pulled him out of, leading him to feel nothing but despair, leading him to realize something he's been afraid of.

Word count: 9.8k

Author's note: attention attention please !! as you all know this story is a collab with my dearest @hellfire--cult , this would have not been as great without her. as I mentioned before, she works on all the chapters with me, we come up with all the ideas together, we write together but this chapter especially -- I left this one for her, it's over 9k words and of them are written by her so give her the love she deserves ♡ also y'all should listen to let down by radiohead while reading this. this song is Steve's song (I am so projecting)

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

The house was warm, that was the first thing he noticed when he got out of bed and out of the blankets. 

This meant he slept for a long time. The fireplace must have been lit for a while now, because he didn’t believe it was cold outside. He could see the snow and some people cleaning it out from the small roads, and he wondered how long he had been asleep. For how long had he been lying in that bed without your warmth again.

Steve could feel his heart bursting, and he felt so conflicted. Thanks to his nightmare, he knew this was the right decision, yet the pain that comes with it is just breaking him slowly. He cannot control it. He cannot stop it. He wishes it had been different, and he knew that he hurt you… But that pain would just save you both from worse. 

He put on his sweater, some sweatpants, and his slippers, taking a deep breath in before grabbing the doorknob. He couldn’t hear Nancy’s voice, nor Eddie’s jokes, anywhere around the house, but there was someone. He could hear noises coming from the living room, some clanking, some moving around. He knew it was you. 

And he knew he had to face you. This was the best sleep he has gotten in a long while, and he knows it is the same with you. He needed to talk to you. He needed to at least go back to how you two were, and he knows it’s selfish. He knows it. But–

He sighed, walking out of the room to finally head towards the living room. He first saw the back of your head, putting on your boots to probably head out. His breath was quickening by the second, and he could feel his heart in his throat, almost making him choke. He gulped, or at least he tried, finally talking.

“Where’s Eddie and Nance?” 

He saw how you stiffened for a second, your movements stopping as you tied up your boots, only to resume after recovering yourself.

“Nance is out with Eddie. She took him to the coffee shop.” He felt himself tense up when he saw you tightening up your shoelaces one last time, and his panic set in.

“And where are you going?” 

You were still giving him your back, not wanting to face him, and he was growing desperate. He felt his mouth go dry, his fingertips started to itch, and he had to make you talk to him. He needed it.

“Sunshine, we– we need to talk…” His voice was tired. It was raspy, deep, just– it sounded like the voice of someone who was slowly giving up. You rose to your feet, still not turning to face him.

“What part of I need space do you not get, Steve?” Your voice sounded cold, fed up with him, and he felt his stomach turn. He didn’t like that. Was that how he sounded to you? Was that how he treated you before?

“Trust me, I get it, but I can’t help but feel like we haven’t talked it all through–” And with those words of his, you finally turned. You looked confused, angry, your eyebrows meeting in the middle as if Steve had just said the most insane thing in the world.

“I think you were clear enough.” And he took a step back as if he had been slapped, but he wasn’t going to back down. He had to try to keep you with him, because he felt like– Like he was going insane.

"We need each other. You should know that by now! I-- I don't want you to stop talking to me... I can barely stand it." He confessed, and you were still looking at him with emotions he couldn’t read anymore because all he could see was his own desperation. His own needs.

"... We– We finally slept after not being able to... for a while... Look-- I-- I don't know why but I can only sleep okay with you, and you are okay when you sleep with me... So we can't--" 

And without his knowledge, the filtering in his mouth fucked him over again, and he saw the hurt crossing your features. He saw the twitch, the anger turning into a sad one, and he felt his heart sink to the floor.

He didn’t know? He didn’t know why? Of course he did. He did. He absolutely did, and he lied again.  

"That's where we differ and where you hurt me again." And he just stood there, stunned as he looked at how your eyes didn’t want to meet his again. How your body untensed and slouched at his words. 

"I--" 

"I know why I can sleep okay with you. I made it clear. I made it known... Maybe you just don’t want to admit it, or see that you can only sleep okay with me because–” And he could see how you stopped talking, looking down at the floor as if you were about to just… crumble down.

“Sunshine–”

“You see Robin in me.” 

Steve Harrington has never wanted to scream louder in his life. He never wanted to scream and deny something so much to defend his own word. That was not the case. That was not what he thought. That is not the reason why he is pushing you away. The reason why he is hiding his feelings. That is not it, far from it. 

"No, no, that's-- That's not it. That's not it at all--"

"Then why? Why do you act like this with me if it isn't because of the same feelings I have for you? Why do you– Why are you acting like this?"

His mouth opened to give you a response, but then, his eyes flickered to the scar on your face. His body froze up, his tongue stopped working, and his throat went dry. Your eyes looked up to look for his one last time, and Steve was just standing there– And he didn’t deny it, even if he wanted to at the top of his lungs. 

He started recovering a little too late, when he heard your breathing become even more elaborate than before and you started grabbing your stuff as quickly as possible, messily so. He tried gulping, moistening his throat again to be able to speak, but– But what could he say? What could he possibly say not to make you even more confused? What can he say that won’t give away his true feelings for you? 

He didn’t know how to save it. How to save the relationship. How to keep you. He didn’t know anymore, even when he desperately wanted to. But he would be selfish and evil if he did that, wouldn’t he? He would keep making you feel… lost.

“I won’t be a replacement, Steve…��� 

He saw you leave something on the coffee table, and those were your last words before leaving, and his back finally touched the doorway of the living room. He felt his eyes burn as he looked at the ceiling, wondering if everything he was doing was right at all. Was he selfish for being scared? Was he an idiot for caring for you? 

He walked towards the coffee table, his eyes filling up with tears as he saw Robin’s hair tie lying on the surface of it now. It was not it. That was not it. You were not a replacement at all, but that’s all you thought you were to him. If he denied it, he would hurt you. If he didn’t, he would hurt you. Either way he looked at it from, he ends up hurting you.

Time. You need time. Maybe without him pestering you, you could learn to see him as a friend again, even when he didn’t want that at all, but it was better than nothing. He could give you that space, try not to cross paths with you, or at least the minimum amount possible.

He had lived without you for an entire year, and he had survived.

He could try that again.

—--------------------------------------

Two days passed. 

You two haven’t even crossed paths for dinner. 

He ate in his room, or didn’t eat at all, and Eddie had started becoming more and more worried. His foot got better, and he could walk for short periods of time with no wheelchair or crutches, but it was still hard to do so. 

He stopped making jokes about you and Aaron. He stopped them completely, knowing his best friend was hurting through all of it, yet Steve didn’t even try to talk to him. In fact, neither he nor Nancy saw much of Steve. He was gone at the very early morning, and he came back very late. 

Eddie knew Steve wasn’t sleeping either, just as much as he knew that you too were not. He has heard you walking in the hallway, stopping for a few seconds before heading back to your room. He could only assume you stood at Steve’s door, maybe wondering if whether to knock or not, and deciding against it in the end. 

Nancy was worried too, but Eddie noticed his best friend was letting go a bit, enjoying life once again. It was nice seeing her with a smile, and he knew she was trying to make you enjoy it too, even if your face didn’t match hers. 

But there was one thing he noticed about Nancy, and that was that she was being… mean towards Steve. He knew Nance was protecting you, but there was no need to make remarks about the possibility of Aaron making a move on you when Steve was in earshot. 

To his surprise, on the third night, while he was having a late snack, Steve walked in, shaking his jacket off from the snow and hanging it on the coat rack. He wanted to make small talk, try to make Steve look alive, at least. 

“H–Hey, b–bro!” He cringed to himself because– Since when has Eddie ever said the word bro? Steve noticed, frowning in confusion at him.

“... Hey?” Now, Eddie called Steve out with no other plan than to greet his friend. He was nervous about how to approach Steve now without scaring him off, so he raised the hand that was holding an apple, showing it to him.

“An apple?” Eddie tried, and Steve shook his head. Eddie saw the tiredness around the eyes, and the overall pain itched in his features.

“No, I’m good.” He saw Steve heading to his room, so he tried again, panicking a little bit at the possibility of losing his chance of talking to Steve.

“YOU! Um– What have you been doing?” The brown haired man stopped for a second and then looked at Eddie.

“I help in the kitchen and in organizing the supply closet. Doing my share for the free food and stay.” He said monotonously. Eddie gave a nervous nod, gulping as he limped towards his friend.

“Cool– Cool…” It was silent then between the two of them, and while Eddie was a ball of nerves, Steve was just staring at him as if he were crazy. “I– I talked to Tommy a bit today! Did– Did you know they taught the kids how to shoot guns!?” 

At his words, Steve frowned, a flicker of amusement, anger, and confusion crossing his features. 

“They gave them guns?” 

“Well, they’re not kids anymore, Steve.” Eddie reminded his friend, and Steve sighed, nodding. Finally, a small tug on his lips appeared, a huff.

“Let me guess, Max outdid them all?” Eddie’s eyes flickered with amusement, nodding and crossing his arms as he felt his chest warm up at hearing Steve’s voice.

“Of course! But Tommy tried to gift her a gun and–”

“Let me guess, her brother wasn’t too keen on that.” Eddie was smiling as Steve engaged in the conversation, and he nodded enthusiastically. Maybe it wasn’t all lost. Maybe Steve did need time as well as you did, and–

“Eddie, have you–” 

And Eddie’s eyes clenched tightly at the sound of your boys. He saw how Steve’s eyes found yours, the slight bit of happiness in his features disappearing, leaving behind an emotionless mask. 

You, on the other hand, Eddie noticed how you wanted to say something, yet you held back. How your eyes were looking for Steve’s, only for the male to look away before muttering a goodbye and leaving for his room. Eddie sighed, looking down at the floor, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to handle the situation, because just like Steve–

“Sunshine–”

“Never mind.” And you were gone.

You didn’t want to talk at all. 

-

You would all be leaving the community the next day.

You felt your heart ache from it, but you wanted to keep going. You needed to find your family, and you won’t be able to do it if you keep staying here, despite finally feeling safe in a secluded place. 

Aaron, Tommy, and Paxton had prepared a small party for your departure. They barely had any celebrations, so this sounded like the perfect excuse for one, as they called it. You had told them with Nancy that there was no need for that, that they had done enough, but it gave them a bit of an excuse to get drunk and have fun.

So now, you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with Nancy, trying to decide what you two were going to wear for the night. Eddie was sipping on his coffee, sitting at the table, and looking down at the RV’s inventory. Nancy had pointed out that Eddie had grown a bit distant with her, and she didn’t know why. You noticed as well, but your mind was preoccupied with… someone else.

Someone you hadn’t seen in a whole day, and it was making your insides turn wildly. You have been out with Nancy, Aaron, and Tommy for most of the week, and when you came back to your house, Eddie would greet you, but Steve had not yet returned home. 

You had asked for time. You had asked for space. He is giving that to you, and yet it feels wrong. It feels so fucking wrong and you are angry that it does. Because it was not fair. It was not fair that your heart was still clinging to him like a vice, and you couldn’t stop it. No matter what had happened days ago. No matter that he didn’t deny that you were Robin’s replacement. Your heart was betraying you.

And said man, walked into the kitchen, all dressed up to go out again in the day, and your body froze at seeing his face. It was– It was angry. All of his facial muscles were tense as he headed towards the sink to grab a glass of water. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach turning inside out because– It almost looked like–

“So… Dress? Or… Skirt?” Nancy asked, and you blinked a few times, finally zoning back into the conversation. You licked your lips and nodded, trying to focus on the topic once again.

“Um, pants? It’s cold?” You answered, and Nancy rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“It’s a party! We should all dress up since we never get to do it!” Nancy exclaims, nudging your shoulder. “Who knows when we’ll get that chance again!” 

She is right. You know she is. You never get the chance to do these kinds of things anymore. It would be nice to just let loose and enjoy yourself, go all out. 

“Plus, we have a nice variety here!” 

You nod, though your eyes keep moving back to him. Your heart skips in your chest every few seconds, not in affection but in anxiety. His expression kept growing angrier and angrier. 

“Alright, uh…” You pause and furrow your eyebrows, trying your best to just focus, but it’s nearly impossible when he is here. “Skirt… You should wear a skirt, I think it would look cute.”

“Cute?” Nancy scoffs, shaking her head. “I’m trying to look hot! Don’t think that Tommy wants a cute girl.”

Finally, you are able to look away from him and back at her. An amused flicker in your eyes and a teasing smile resting on your face now. You raise your eyebrows at her. 

“Aw, Nancy!”

“Don’t.” She murmurs, biting back her smile. “Why don’t we talk about you? I’m sure Aaron would love–”

“Can you both just shut up!?” 

You and Nancy freeze at his words. Her blue eyes widen as she turns towards him, looking a little taken aback. His features are deeply painted in anger. His hazel eyes are filled with nothing but anger, no other emotions living in them at this moment. A frown is etched into his features. The tone in his voice was full of malice. She hasn’t seen that side of him since… since Hawkins. 

Even Eddie is surprised as he just looks up from the journal, freezing completely at the sudden outburst.

“What’s wrong with you!?” Nancy grumbles at him, not hesitating to ask. 

Steve’s eyes are settled on you, not on her. They are burning. 

“What’s wrong with me?” He scoffs as a humorless laugh falls from his lips. “You are both acting like we aren’t in the middle of the end of the world. Fucking christ–”

“Steve, it’s good to let go–” Eddie tries, only to be ignored by the brunette. 

You are all a little shocked and surprised to see the Steve from a few months ago once again coming forth. 

“Right, because living in a fantasy and high school puppy love got us here.” Steve scoffs, shaking his head as he sends a glare towards Nancy. He wants to say more, he wants it to hurt because he can’t believe what he is hearing. Not too long ago, she opened up and confessed her love for his best friend, only to be moving on already? 

You look between them, and anger sparks inside of you when you see the way Nancy’s shoulders slump and her face falls with guilt. She looks down, avoiding his eyes now. 

Steve huffs and slams his glass on the counter. He brushes past Eddie, almost knocking his shoulder in the process. He grabs his jacket and storms out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. 

He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in the fresh air, though it does little to calm him down. All he feels is pure rage. He can’t even think straight anymore; it’s like his mind is in a haze, and he is stuck in a state of anger because this is all he’s been feeling the past couple of days. 

The door opens behind him, and he opens his eyes, already huffing because he knows it’s Eddie who is gonna try to talk some sense into him. 

But the moment he smells the sweet scent of your body wash, he tenses up. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Your voice is sharp and angry, just like his own was. 

Steve turns around to face you. You are looking up at him, jaw clenched and eyes full of confusion. 

“Don’t bother yourself with it, go back to your little dress talk.” Steve mumbles as a new wave of irritation sparks at him, knowing who you are getting dressed up for. 

You shake your head at him in disbelief, knowing what he is implying again. He thinks this is childish. He thinks this is immature. He thinks that you are immature for indulging in this. And it’s nothing new to you anymore, but it still pains you every time. 

Your usual soft features now burn with anger, matching his own energy. 

“You’re acting like a jerk, again!” You exclaim, frustrating him further. 

Steve is so guided by anger that he can’t even see how much his indifference and anger are hurting you. 

“You don’t get to tell me how I’m acting. You, of all people, should keep that to yourself.” 

Your lips parted, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You shake your head at him slowly, stepping closer to him, unknowingly making his heart ache in his chest – that should be enough of a warning for him. His heart is screaming at him, along with the little voice in his head that is just begging for him to stop. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. 

Steve clenches his jaw, also taking another step closer. He looks down at you. 

“Oh, you fucking know. You don’t get to call me a jerk when you have been one to me for weeks now, so just go back in the house and make yourself look pretty for your little boyfriend while I go live in the real world–”

“What– is this about Aaron?” You scoff. 

Aaron. Aaron. Aaron. 

He’s heard that name numerous times in the past few days, and every time it sends a flash of rage through him. He can’t wait for tomorrow to come, to leave this place, and to never look back. 

He takes a deep breath, staring at your confused face. He stares and stares. And he bites his tongue, knowing that if he keeps this conversation going, he will say something that he will regret. 

And his silence only fuels your anger, it makes it burn inside of you. He keeps doing this. And you can’t bear it anymore. It leaves you fuming. 

You are both breathing heavily. Staring at each other intensely. The fire is burning between you, dangerously so. One that will do damage. One that will burn everything around you. 

“You want me to live in the real world?” You ask, glaring at him. “You want me to be more serious, more mature? Got it.” You mumble in anger, looking at him one last time before you storm back into the house, slamming the door and leaving him standing. 

Steve is breathless, packed with anger, and unable to think clearly. Everything in him burns deeper and stronger than before. He puts on his jacket before he walks down the stairs, storming away from the house. 

The sky is getting darker already, and not many people are around at this hour – most people must be getting ready for the farewell party planned for them. Steve isn’t looking forward to it, he is only looking forward to getting back on the road. 

He has no particular destination. He just needed to get out of the house and away from you, but no matter how much distance he puts between you both, the anger never fades away. If anything, it only worsens, especially when he stumbles upon the stables and the only one left working with the horses is Aaron. 

Steve halts in his tracks when he catches sight of him. The man is cleaning up the stable, unaware of the death glares directed towards him. 

The sight of him makes his blood boil, and he knows exactly why: it’s because of you. The moment you stepped foot inside this community, he had been on you, whisking you away with ease. 

And you let him. You let him after trying with him. 

He doesn’t know what angers him more. The fact that you are spending time with another man, the way you did with him, or the fact that this man might be using your vulnerable state for his own entertainment. 

Before thinking it through, he storms towards him and into the stable, making the man turn around. 

Aaron notices the anger right away, feeling the tension and seeing the hatred in his hazel eyes. He can tell what Steve is looking for. He can see it from a mile away. 

“Steve.” Aaron nods, looking him up and down. “You alright?” He asks, raising his eyebrow at him. He turns his back to him, putting away the last saddle. He takes his gloves off and runs a hand through his hair before he turns around again. 

“What are your intentions with her?”

Aaron crosses his arms over his chest, furrowing his eyebrows. “That’s what you came here for?” Aaron asks, looking into hateful eyes. “You looking for a fight?” 

Steve huffs, and he takes another step closer. Everything about the cowboy makes him burn in the worst ways possible. His hands clench into fists, and he has to restrain himself from throwing a punch – the result of his frustrations. 

“How about you go and take a walk to clear your head, and then we can talk–”

Steve doesn’t think when he takes another step forward and grabs Aaron by the collar of his jacket, slamming the older man against the wall behind him. 

“What are your intentions with her?” Steve repeats through gritted teeth. 

Aaron sighs, shaking his head at the brunette. He doesn’t even look fazed. He clenches his jaw as he stares into his eyes for a moment. He can see right through him. He can see every bit of fear in his eyes. Anger. Hatred for him, all that because of you. What a fool, Aaron thinks. This didn’t have to happen. He put this all on himself. 

Aaron was patient with Steve so far. He didn’t care about the little huffs directed towards him or the glares the brunette kept sending his way. He didn’t pay much attention to him at all. He did see the jealousy, something that you didn’t see. He did see the way he kept watching you like a hawk, something a friend wouldn’t do. 

Aaron didn’t get to know Steve as well as he got to know you or Eddie, or even Nancy, but he can see the way something is holding him back from you. 

And all Aaron can see him as is a foolish man. A weak, foolish man. 

“Slow down, buddy. Clearly my intentions are the same as yours.” Aaron huffs, ripping Steve’s hands off with ease. He pushes him back and away from him, glaring back at him now. “It’s just that you don’t have the balls to act on them.” 

Deep down, Steve knows that. He knows that the man before him has a genuine interest, otherwise, he wouldn’t have offered to be the one to take you to your family. It’s not a conversation that was meant for his ears, but Steve overheard it. Two nights ago, when Aaron had walked you to the cabin, the window in the kitchen was open, and Steve was washing the dishes when he heard something that ruined his mood entirely. 

‘I know you’re just trying to get back to your family. I don’t know what your plans are after that, but if you want to, I can be the one to take you. We’ll get your family and you come back here with me. The community has a lot to offer for you and them.’ 

Steve’s blood had been boiling since that night. How dare he try to take you away from him? 

He doesn’t know where you stand with Aaron. He doesn’t know if anything has happened between you already. He isn’t sure if he even wants to know. He didn’t stick around to hear your answer, too afraid to hear you accept his offer. 

Given the fact that there is a farewell party for all of you tonight, he guesses that you declined it. 

But it does little to make him feel better. 

“Don’t you dare touch her.” 

Aaron huffs at him, as though in disbelief. 

“That’s her ultimate decision. I ain’t forcing her or manipulating her.” Aaron mumbles. His blue eyes also flashing with anger now as he tilts his head at him, he takes a step towards him. “Unlike you, giving her all that hope, making her feel special, just to let her down? Kind of immature, don’t you think, buddy?”

Steve tenses up at his words. He swallows harshly as he feels a pang in his chest. You talked about your feelings to him? 

Aaron shakes his head at him. He grabs his cowboy hat off the rack on the wall and puts it on his head. He takes a moment to look around the stable, before he takes another step back towards Steve. He places his hand on his shoulder, patting it. 

“Don’t worry, she’s in good hands with me.” Aaron promises – no ounce of arrogance or cockiness in his voice, none of that at all. He takes one last look at him before he walks away, leaving him standing there. “Close the doors on your way out, will ya?” 

Steve is staring into blank space. He is breathing heavily. The anger grips strongly at him, stronger than ever before. His chest starts rising up and down. He sees red. Everything, all at once, comes rushing through him, and before he can stop himself, he draws his arm back and throws his fist into the wall. 

The rage was stopping him from feeling pain, from seeing the blood now slipping through the cracks in his skin. 

He wants to scream. 

He wants to break everything. 

The burning in his knuckles does nothing to mend the anger that he is feeling. He wants to be angry at Aaron so bad, he wants to hate him, but does he even have a reason to? No. He doesn’t. He can only hate himself for causing all of this, for being the reason why you are looking for comfort in someone else’s arms. 

He could’ve had you. He could’ve been with you. He could’ve been the one to take you to the farewell party, but instead he will have to watch you with another man. 

Blood is dripping from his knuckles and down onto the floor, staining the wood. Heavy breaths fall from his lips. He wants to throw his fist into the wall again, over and over again. He wants to feel something other than despair and heartbreak. 

Instead, he curls his hand into a fist and he holds back, knowing it won’t change anything. He turns around and slams his back against the wall. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. 

All that flashes in his mind is you. 

You. You. You. 

And despite the aching the thought of you leaves in his chest, it begins to calm him down. Your laughter echoes in his ears. Your face flashes before his eyes. Your scent fills his senses. Your touch that always lingers on his skin. Like a wave of peacefulness that washes over him, he finds himself relaxing slowly. 

And he doesn’t know for long he sits there, staring into blank space, but when he finally calms down again, he pushes himself off the wall and gets back on his feet. The blood on his knuckles is dry by now. The cuts are burning. 

He makes his way out of the stable and closes the door like Aaron had told him to. The cold wind nips at his skin, making him shudder. The walk back to the cabin isn’t a long one. The light is still on, burning in the living room. 

Dread fills him, knowing that Eddie must have waited for him. You and Nancy must be gone by now. The footsteps in the snow indicate that you have left and when he steps into the cabin and he notices that your jacket is gone, he knows for sure. 

“Steve?” Eddie calls out to him as he comes limping out of the living room. His eyebrows are furrowed. Eyes filled with concern as the brunette brushes past him and into the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve grumbles. He throws his jacket off and onto the ground before he makes his way over to the sink and starts the water. “Why aren’t you at the party?” He scrunches up his face as the cuts begin to sting stronger than before, thanks to the warm water. 

Eddie walks a little slower without the crutches. His leg is still unable to move properly. 

“I was waiting for you.” Eddie mumbles as he stops in the doorway. It takes him a moment to register the blood in the sink and Steve’s pained face. 

“I’m not going–”

“What the hell happened!” Eddie cuts him off, staring at him, bewildered. 

“Nothing–”

“Don’t fucking say it’s nothing, Steve!” Eddie’s frown deepens as he limps his way over to him. “What…?” He mumbles, looking back and forth between his bleeding knuckles and his face. 

Steve sighs. His head hangs low, and he presses his lips into a straight line. No words are spoken. For a moment, it’s quiet between them. Only the sound of the running water fills the room. 

Steve knows that lying won’t get him out of this. Eddie can see right through him. 

With a sigh, he tilts his head up again. He glances into the mirror but chooses to look away again quickly, not wanting to see his reflection. 

“I talked to Aaron.” 

“Oh… Oh, please tell me you didn’t.” Eddie trails off as his eyes continue to flicker between the cuts on Steve’s knuckles and his angry face. 

“No.” Steve sighs, shaking his head. “We just talked…”

“And then what?” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow at him. He knows exactly what was talked about or who. 

“Nothing. He left, and then I…” Steve pauses, feeling embarrassed to even admit such a thing. 

Eddie’s eyes scan his face, and he stares at him for a long moment. He takes in the anger still flashing in his hazel eyes. The despair. Eddie understands it, not because he ever felt this, but because he had seen this before. Anger that turns a gentle person into this – choosing to feel pain instead of fixing that one thing. 

“So you decided to what… punch walls?” Eddie asks, sighing. 

“Eddie–”

“No, Steve. You’re at that point again?” He asks, and Steve finally turns to take a look at him. The worry in dark brown eyes is so clear that it makes him feel guilty. 

Steve had felt this kind of anger before. Through the grief of losing Robin, he discovered this anger within himself. The kind that made him feel sick. The kind that made him want to break everything in his wake.

“No.” Steve sighs, closing his eyes once again. The water is still running over his knuckles. 

“Then what…? Did Aaron say something?”

“No, Eddie.” Steve clenches his jaw. “He just… He wants her. I want her. I can’t have her–”

“You can.” Eddie scoffs, frowning even deeper at him than before. He doesn’t understand him. “You’re acting like he stole her from you. Dude, do you even hear yourself? She wants you–”

“Yeah, but I can’t have her, Eddie.” Steve snaps at him. He shuts off the water and turns to face him, not bothering to hide the vulnerability now crossing his features. “I can’t, okay? You think I don’t want to? You think I didn’t want to kiss her? You think it was easy to push her away? To pretend like I didn’t… like I don’t feel something for her? Fuck… You have no idea how much I–” Steve pauses, his voice turning shaky. His heart leaps to his throat. The realization of what he was about to speak into the universe dawned on him. He quickly shuts his mouth. 

Eddie’s soft eyes widen, and his words get caught in his throat too. He knew. Of course, he knew, but to hear him say it – well, almost say it, still shocks him. 

“Steve…”

Steve shakes his head. He runs his hand down his face and takes another deep breath. 

“Are you ready?” Steve asks, eying Eddie’s black button-down shirt. 

“Steve…” Eddie huffs, his shoulders slumping. 

“It’s fine, Eddie.” Steve mumbles, looking down. “It’s fine. This is our last night here, and I know you wanted to go to that stupid party, so let’s just… get this over with.” 

“Are you sure?” Eddie doesn’t hesitate to ask. 

Steve would rather stay hauled up in this cabin, than watch you be flirted with all night. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods. 

Eddie hesitates. 

“But if you wanna leave at any time–”

“Then I’ll tell you.” Steve nods, looking down at his cracked knuckles. He takes a deep breath. 

“She is there with him, Steve.” Eddie warns him. 

Steve grimaces at his words. His chest pangs. He saw the footsteps in the snow from when he came to pick you up. 

“Yeah, I know.” He mumbles. “I’ll be fine.” 

Eddie isn’t sure if he should believe him, but he doesn’t have much of a choice when Steve brushes past him after picking up his jacket, grumbling a ‘c’mon’ as he makes his way into Eddie’s room to pick up the crutches. 

“Yeah…” Eddie mumbles. 

-

Lights are hanging from the ceiling. The barn is covered in candles. Country music is playing. The smell of food lingers in the air. People are dancing, having fun – living a night that was meant for a normal world, not this one. 

Eddie is looking around with a smile on his face, loving the sight before him. 

But Steve, he is watching with a frown. His eyes are glued to you. His heart is racing, everything in him burning yet fluttering. You are wearing a dress. And you look breathtaking. Beautiful. Everything around him, everything inside the room, disappears. All he sees is you. All that matters is you. Only ever you. 

You are smiling. The golden light that shines down on you makes your features look even softer. 

His breath gets caught in his throat. His heart skips a beat when a giggle falls from your lips. The sound reached his ears even over the music and from afar. 

“This is amazing.” Eddie whistles. “Are those spare ribs?” He gasps, slapping Steve’s shoulder and pulling him out of his trance. 

The brunette blinks. He furrows his eyebrows and glances at the metalhead for a second before he looks back at you. The softness in his eyes quickly disappears when he notices the arm around the back of your chair. A sour taste settles on Steve’s tongue when he sees how close you are sitting next to Aaron, comfortably so. His blue eyes are stuck on you. A smile lingering on his face as he watches you tell a story. You are waving around with your hands, giggling through words. Nancy and Tommy, who sit across from you, laugh with you, nodding along to whatever story you are telling. But Aaron, he is watching intently, looking at you with a smile so soft that it could only mirror his own. 

The cracks on Steve’s knuckles start burning yet again when he clenches his fist. It’s his fault, he tells himself. It’s his fault that you are sitting there next to another man instead of being here with him. 

And he really can’t blame Aaron now, can he?

Tommy spots him and Eddie. His eyes light up as he looks between them. Raising his hand up, he waves them over. 

“We don’t have to sit with them if you don’t want to.” Eddie assures Steve, not wanting to force him to share a table with you when you are here with someone else. 

“No, it’s fine. It would be kind of weird not to sit with them.” Steve mumbles. Slapping Eddie’s shoulder, “come on…”

Your eyes found his as your smile slowly faded. He took a seat across from you, right next to Tommy, while Eddie sat on his other side. His heart beat into his throat the more he looked at you, the more he scanned you, the more he tried to understand what you were feeling. He saw the makeup, the effort you took to look beautiful… and not for him. 

And that thought made his heart break even more.

It felt like time stopped for a few seconds, like everyone else in the room didn’t exist any longer. The galaxy stopped moving. The rush of blood cells filled each other’s ears, ringing noisily, being a nuisance. He noticed how your eyes drifted to his hand that was resting on the table, and he winced, quickly moving it away. Space and time started working again, and the noise around the two of you came back like a stampede.

“Well, how do you like it?” Tommy asked, making Steve clear his throat, finally turning his head to look at the man.

“It’s… nice. Thank you for putting in uhm… the effort in making this.” He cringed a bit at his awkwardness, but Tommy chuckled, patting his back.

“Well… Nice fellows like yourselves and–” His eyes found Nancy, who was sitting next to him already, her eyes a little glossed over thanks to the glass of wine she had already drunk. A smile appeared on Tommy’s lips as he continued talking. “Beautiful ladies like these two deserve a nice… farewell party.” 

Eddie whistled under his breath, and Steve wanted to bolt the fuck out of there. He felt his stomach turning with nausea, and he gave a short nod, trying not to look uncomfortable. His eyes found you again, and he noticed how you were trying to listen to what Aaron was saying, but you kept looking at Steve’s way. 

His heart turned, his knuckles turning white from making his hands turn into tight fists over his lap. Eddie noticed, a frown appearing on his features, his gaze finding you looking Steve’s way as you tried to smile at Aaron. He sighed, feeling like things should have gone differently. That this should not be the situation you deserved, the both of you, to be in.

You all got drinks, and Steve was numb to it all. His eyes kept going from his beer to you. It was constant, and you could barely handle it any longer. He saw you whisper something into Aaron’s ear, and he nodded, a smile on his face, and Steve’s stomach dropped when you two got up and walked towards the small dance floor in the middle of the wide dining place. 

The song was slow and country-like, played live. Tommy left to get more drinks for him and Nancy, and she took this chance to scoot closer to his friends, her eyes on you and Aaron. Eddie’s eyes never left Steve. 

The brown haired man saw how Aaron’s hand enveloped yours, his other hand pressing onto the small of your back, pulling your body close to his. Steve felt like vomiting as he watched you sway at the music, slowly, while talking to the man who was holding you so tenderly. Holding you the way he wanted to. The way he desired to. 

Eddie felt his entire body freeze up, and a frown appeared on his eyebrows. He was happy for you, but he couldn’t help but feel helpless for Steve. He wanted to save him from the pain, because even if what his friend did was stupid, he didn’t deserve to hurt the way he was hurting. 

“Steve, maybe we should… head out–”

“You just got here, Eddie.” Nancy fought back, and Eddie clenched his eyes, not being able to feel anger at his best friend for the very first time. She didn’t care about Steve, and how he was slowly crumbling down the more he watched you dance with another man. 

“Steve, we can go back to the cabin–”

But Steve stopped listening. He couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat in his ears as he saw your eyes, finding blue ones. You looked shy, nervous, and you were asking a silent question that Steve knew too well. 

Those same eyes you used back at the mansion, those weeks ago. 

Those same eyes you looked at him with before you got closer.

He saw you stop moving completely, still holding onto one another, and Aaron held your gaze for a moment before he leaned in. Steve felt his chest clench, and he was hoping you would move away. That he misinterpreted your eyes for something else. That you weren’t actually asking for the same thing you had tried to get that day at the mansion from him. That you weren’t going to go through with it. 

He wanted to believe it so badly, but then he saw you lean in, your hand gripping the much older man’s as you raised on your tippy toes, and he should save himself from heartbreak. He should save himself from pain, but he can’t stop looking. He cannot turn his head away from seeing how you are inching closer to Aaron and how you aren’t stopping it and–

You kissed.

You were kissing another man.

Steve was frozen in his spot, unaware of how Nancy and Eddie were trying to shake him back into the present, but all he could see, all he could gaze at, were your lips moving against another man’s. His heart was melting in his chest, and he felt as if his skin was peeling off his muscles. Every cell in his body was screaming at him, and his stomach felt like a void. It felt as if someone had punched a hole in it, and all he could feel was that never-ending precipice.

Aaron’s arms enveloped around your body, pulling you closer, as some whistles could be heard, and Eddie’s hand was on Steve’s shoulder immediately. He was trying to shake his friend’s gaze away from you, but it was to no avail. His eyes, becoming redder by the second. His body started to have a few spasms. His neck, now filled with his veins popping out because of how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Steve was in pain.

Nancy was smiling your way, genuinely happy for you, unaware of how deep in a hole Steve was slowly carving himself in. Your arms were wrapped around the older man’s shoulder as you two kept kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and Steve felt vile rising up in his throat, threatening to come out of his mouth.

He needed to punch something. He needed the physical pain to overlap with the emotional one because he didn’t want to feel that anymore. His breathing was heavy, growing more labored by the second, and he wondered if he had been on your mind at any point. He wondered if this was how you would have kissed him all those days ago. 

And he will now never get to experience it.

He snapped out when Aaron pulled away from you with a smile on his face. His eyes shining for you as he took off his hat and put it on your head instead. The whistles now louder in this room, making Steve frown deeper, especially when you hid your face in Aaron’s chest and the man chuckled, wrapping his arm around you for a moment before his hand came to hold onto yours, and he started to slowly head out of the barn, pulling you along. Steve felt a cold sweat as dread filled him. He looked at how you followed, and he couldn’t see your face. He couldn’t decipher what you were feeling just by looking at the back of your head, and that was irking him.

But you were following the other man. You were gonna go with him. Alone. To god knows where. And that was the line for him. That was the one thing that Steve’s body reacted to. He abruptly stood up as anger, sadness, and possessiveness took hold of him, and he was ready to go after you two. He was ready to put a stop to it, somehow, but he had to try–

He was stopped from moving when he felt his right arm being grabbed and pulled. His head turned, his eyes sharp, filled with pain, clashing with blue ones. Nancy was glaring at Steve, stopping him from moving completely, and he had never wanted to shove a woman away the way he wanted to now. He needed to get to you. He needed to stop you. You were already walking out, and you kept following him–

“Nancy, let me go.” He growled, and Nancy yanked on his arm, stopping him again. Eddie got up from his chair, worry etched in his features.

“No. You have no right to go after her.” She spat back, making Steve send a glare her way as the anger filled his entire body.

“He is using her! She– She doesn’t deserve–” He didn’t know what he should say or what he wanted to say, but Nancy was not having it, her own protectiveness shining through.

“You rejected her! You are the sole culprit of how you’re feeling now! Do not blame her for living her life. Let her have this!” She almost screamed at him, and his eyes stared at her, his heart beating into his throat. He knew she was right. He knew Nancy was right, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“But he–”

“He is mending what you broke.” 

Nancy’s words stabbed him, deep. He could feel his cheeks burning, his eyes, his fingertips, his stomach, everything was in flames, and he couldn’t stop it. He could feel his feet wanting to work, but at the same time, they were not cooperating. He needed to run the fuck out of there, because he felt it. He could feel himself about to break.

Eddie’s eyes were wide at Nancy’s words, a new type of feeling surging up because– Before you, there was Steve, and Nancy was not caring for his feelings at all. She was not measuring her words, and Eddie felt disappointed. His hand raised to touch Steve’s shoulder, only for said man to rush away from him, heading to the back door of the barn.

Nancy was left there, huffing, and Eddie’s eyes found hers. He was glaring at her, and the girl’s shoulders fell at the sight of her best friend’s gaze. Eddie shook his head at her, a snarl on his lips, before he limped after Steve. He understood you. He understood Nancy. But no one was trying to understand Steve.

He knew his best friend was heading back to the cabin, away from the possible path you might have taken with the other man. He groaned a bit at how slow his pace was, but he couldn’t force his leg. Doctor’s orders.

Finally, he saw Steve, sitting on the porch of the cabin, his head in his hands, elbows on his bent knees. Eddie sighed, walking towards him and taking a seat next to him on the stairs. He had to tread carefully, not wanting to make Steve snap and walk away from him because this needed to be talked about. He needed to let it out, or he would consume himself with his thoughts.

“Steve… Talk to me.” Eddie tried and waited. He kept his hands to himself as he heard the music playing from afar. It took minutes, the only sound being Steve’s harsh breaths as he tried to calm himself down. 

"Go back to the party, Eddie." And Eddie could only huff, shaking his head.

"No, not when my best friend looks like he is about to die." At that, Steve grunts into his hands, not showing his face yet.

"I am not–" 

"Steve– If this hurts you so much, why did you do what you did? You– You could be happy and yet..." Eddie tried, and after a minute, Steve finally looked up, dropping his hands. His eyes were red, tears running down his cheeks as he looked at the ground before him. His thoughts were consuming him, yet at the same time they were numbing him.

"I am bound to lose people. It's a miracle you and Nancy are still here... I did it thinking it was the best for the both of us..." He tried explaining, and the words in his tongue felt like a lie, or like he was trying to convince himself that he was giving a logical reason. Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Steve, it clearly isn't..." Steve’s eyes find his best friend’s, fresh tears forming in his waterline.

"I don't want to be something that pulls her back if something were to happen to me... You know her... And– Eddie, if I were to lose her... I don't know how I would be able to handle it... I don't think I could handle another loss like that..." And Eddie understood Steve’s words. He wouldn’t be able to go on. Not again. Eddie knew it was luck that kept Steve with them after Robin passed, and Steve was letting Eddie know that he might not be as lucky next time.

"Steve, that's– I understand you're... dealing with the trauma, but... But Robin would want you to pursue this girl, you know that." He tried, knowing that was the truth. Robin would want Steve to be happy, yet Steve’s face turned a little colder, shaking his head.

"... Robin is dead. I don't know what she would want." Eddie scoffed, looking down at the floor.

"And there you go again, putting that wall up." 

"I'm not putting anything–" 

"Whenever someone tells you something merely true, you get defensive like this." Steve frowned at his best friend, but Eddie continued, "This girl said she was coming to the community with us, where the two of you could be happy and safe... didn't you think of that?" 

"Of course I did... But what if one of us doesn't reach it?" Their eyes meet again, and Steve manages to keep talking, somehow, even when he feels his throat getting closed up by the second.

"Then you are a fucking wuss for not wanting to fight for your life to stay with her, with us. I'm sitting here, ready to go against anything and everything so I could stay with you guys, to see my uncle again, to finally reunite and present my sweetheart to you all... You're so afraid of loss that you forget how much you can win, Steve."

Those words made Steve freeze on the spot. He stared at Eddie as if he had just now opened the Pandora box for him. He could feel the tears now threatening to leave his eyes again, looking towards the horizon. 

“It’s the end of the world…” And Eddie took a deep breath in, slowly reaching up to wrap an arm around his best friend’s shoulder, trying to give some comfort.

“And you should live your life to the fullest. Grasping at happiness when presented to you, not running away from it, Steve, even if you’re scared shitless.” Steve could feel his body trembling, the words sinking into his system, and he could barely hold it in as he clenched his eyes together, gulping the lump that formed in his throat.

“I lost her.” He sniffled, and he could feel his chest aching as Eddie’s hand gripped his shoulder in comfort. “It’s too late now.”

“Personally, I don’t think so.” Eddie tried as he felt Steve start to lean closer to him, seeking comfort. 

“She’s with him…” He whispered, and a tear rolled down his cheek despite his eyes staying closed. He felt everything dawning on him at once. The regret, the anger, the sadness, because Eddie was right. Eddie was fucking right and Steve was stupid. He had been stupid and let his trauma, his fear, guide him to make one of the worst decisions of his life.

And now you might be gone. You might not want him again. You might not forgive him. Should he even try? Should he? Would that only confuse you? Hurt you? Anger you? He didn’t want you to feel any of those things again, but he isn’t sure if he could make you happy. Not ever again.

“And then she’ll come with us, Steve…” Eddie tried once again, his heart clenching when Steve finally laid his head on his shoulder, a sob ripping out from his throat.

“She’s with him…” He repeated, and that did it. He started crying to Eddie, realizing he had pushed you to be with someone else. He had rejected you, despite it not being what he wanted. He had rejected his own happiness out of fear of ending up alone, or dead. 

Funny, because he feels dead now. 

He thought it would be easy to let go of you because he never had you. He never kissed you. He never held you. He never got to experience you in that way. He thought it would be easy, only to be hit with the realization that you were more important than what he originally thought you were. You were a part of his life that he needed in order to keep going.

And he realized it a little too late. He thought it would be better not to engage in a relationship in the middle of the apocalypse, because that could only end up badly. One of the two could die. He had lost all hope of having a normal life in the end of the world after Robin died. 

When she passed away, all the fantasies of having a nice little house in California with the community vanished. It was as if reality hit him in the worst way possible, and he had to come to terms that life wasn’t going to be easy like it used to, even if he wanted to look at it in a positive way.

But when he met you, you rekindled that hope. And he thought it was foolish. He thought it couldn’t be. He thought that it was something that could never happen. A normal life. With families. Friends. A lover. Children.

And now, look at him. In a community that had all of that. Life. Normalcy. Pretending monsters and infected didn’t exist. He tried to fight it, tried to think that everything just seemed a little fake to him, but it wasn’t. No.

It just made him realize that he had made the wrong decision. It made him realize that what he did was wrong. And Eddie just now made him admit it. Because Eddie was right. Steve was losing more than what he thought he was saving himself from. He was losing you… But the reality of the situation was, you were now with another man.

His hand went to the back pocket of his jeans, moving a bit on his spot to get what he wanted out. Finally, he got hold of the picture he always took with him, maybe as a good luck charm, maybe to remind himself that the world could actually be good again. 

Eddie’s eyes widened a bit when he saw the polaroid picture in Steve’s hand. It was you. Back at the mansion. The metalhead winced inwardly, now understanding Steve’s feelings even more, and how deep they ran inside of him. Steve could only stare at you in the picture, how content you looked, how you deserved to be happy. And maybe, this man you were now with, alone, could give that to you.

A man who offered you to stay in this community.

In this perfect little world, he thought, didn’t exist anymore.

And you deserved the perfect.

You deserved the best.

And Steve, he wasn’t any of that. 

Wasn't he?

☀︎

let's all thank roe for making us cry. because I cried like a bitch. hope you all feel bad for steve

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx @bananasplits-world @myharrington @btskzfav @hawkeyeharrington

[friskalicousbiscuits]

Neglected The Mask!reader x platonic Yan!Batfam

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Epi

I’d also like to say this Reader is Gender Neutral or at least you can pick your gender. Most of the pronouns are “you” and when they are referred to by other people, its “they” so… Yeah! Have fun reading and tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or things that don’t make sense.

Chapter Three

Oswald Cobblepot - The Penguin POV

Oswald sat with his men surrounding him as he watched the latest show performing at the Iceberg Lounge.

It was the new rogue.

They were singing some theatrical, eccentric song that had them throwing roses at the both the ladies and gentlemen watching. It even grabbed one of the pole dancers and pulled her into the performance too. They’d spun the girl around until she was wearing something straight out of the sixties. A knee-length dress in the same yellow as the stars on the rogue’s suit. Speaking of the newbie, they were wearing a navy blue three-piece with those baby yellow stars. Now, Oswald could respect a person who wore perfectly tailored suits. He may despise the Joker and tolerate the Riddler, but hey, what’s the harm in looking good while doing crime…

…or singing in Oswald’s club.

Oswald watched them dance with the girl across the stage.

Somehow the girl knew the choreography as well?

She seemed as confused as Oswald when she and the green-faced freak started dancing in sync. Perfectly.

Now, as for why the newbie was even performing in his club. Oswald would like to take a trip down memory lane for that…

//Flashback…//

It had been about thirty minutes before the opening of his club. Bartenders were clocking in and getting their stations ready, girls were getting dolled up and doing stretches, and the muscles of his fine establishment were taking their places around and inside the building. It was normal. What wasn’t normal was that Oswald was even here in the first place.

See, Black Mask, the human equivalent of shit stuck to the bottom of shoe, wanted to talk partnerships. As for why? Oswald didn’t particularly care. They’d both tried to kill each other in the past, it’d be difficult to mend that relationship even with all the money in the world. But, the mighty, gracious Penguin, in all his guts and glory decided to humor him.

Besides, if negotiations went to shit, he could always have the man shot in the back of the head.

They were going to talk. In Oswald’s lounge. In Oswald’s turf. That was the plan. It’d even remained the plan after the new rogue strolled in like they owned the place, immediately bee-lining it to Oswald. One of his men immediately got in the rogue’s way but ended up with an anvil dropped on his head. They kept walking until they stood in front of him.

“Pots! Just the man I wanted to see!”

“What do you want?” Oswald growled, thumbing his umbrella.

“I want to sing.” They said, placing their hands on their hips.

A small silent filled the building.

“What?” Oswald asked, confused more than anything. He blinked and suddenly the newbie was right next to him, a hand on his shoulder while the other waves towards the stage.

“Think about it! I get to entertain, you get entertainment, and if things happen to go south and I… I don’t know, accidentally blow someone up—”

Oswald cut them off. “Again, what?”

They kept lm talking as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “—I have some spare cash lying around for reimbursement! I’ve been meaning to get rid of it anyways.”

That made him perk up slightly. Cash for reimbursement. Oswald supposed he could just saw the scuffs on the floor count. “Is it dirty money?”

“The dirtiest. I… acquired it just this past week.”

“The bank robbery.”

“Correctamundo, my short friend.”

“Short?” Saying that to Oswald’s face was bold. His hands itched for his umbrella. He’d love to fill this tall freak with holes. Because admittedly, they were tall. Those news reports did this thing no justice.

“You are to me! Though I suppose I could just—” The green feller’s hands went under Oswald’s arms. Immediately every one of Oswald’s men had their guns trained on them. They paid the guns no mind. Instead of picking the him up like Oswald expected, everyone watched as his torso elongated with the higher they pulled until his hands eventually left him. “There, now we’re eye to eye.” The newbie said, though they sounded like they were about to laugh.

It reminded him of that bastard clown.

“What the hell did you do to me!?” Oswald yelled. He looked ridiculous, proportions all wrong. His arms and legs remained the same, and certainly too short for this new body.

“You don’t like it?” They asked with that damned grin.

“No! Of bloody course not!” That seemed to seal Oswald’s fate as he felt his body go tense like a rubber band then snap back. His own face hit his knees as he up and bopped the hell out of his nose. His body then moved up and down rapidly for a moment, each movement being accompanied by the sound of an accordion?

He was going to kill whichever arsehole had the cobblers to pull that with him—

The green-faced freak started to full on belly-laugh in his face. He didn’t even need to tell his men to fire before they did, not that it’d do much. Reports say that they were bulletproof but…

No crushed bullets were falling to the floor.

When Oswald finally stopped being a human accordion, the newbie had stopped laughing and the guns had stopped firing. Though, they were still standing. If the bullets weren’t on the ground, where were they?

“Ah… man, I haven’t had a laugh like that in a while!” They exclaimed. “I think I need a drink.” They pulled a drink out of nowhere and obnoxiously sipped from the straw. Everyone watched as liquid, probably soda, spurted out of multiple small holes. “Well, this was fun, Pots, but I got places to be, people to see, and a Jarritos fruit punch waiting for me at the nearest gas station. See ya later!” With that, they literally spun out of the club.

//…Flashback End//

So here they were now. Black Mask was to show up any minute and the newbie was still singing like there was no tomorrow.

That is, until the lights suddenly shut off. The entire lounge went black until a light illuminated from the stage. Specifically from the new rogue’s stars on their suit. Their hand was on a cord leading from their fedora. Oswald hadn’t noticed it before. Was it supposed to be a lamp cord?

The emergency power turned back on eventually. Oswald watched them tug the cord again, the stars stopped glowing. There he was.

The bitch of the hour.

Black Mask.

He rolled over to Oswald, men behind him. Always with the damn dramatic entrances. And he wonders why no one likes him.

Bruce Wayne - Batman - Two Hours Before Penguin and c c Mask’s Deal POV

An hour before sundown, Bruce gathered everyone into the Batcave. They needed to go over the newest rogue as a group. He wouldn’t have any of his children getting hurt by this… monster? It certainly wasn’t human, that’s for sure.

The imp theory is still possible.

First, he played the video from his lenses of the unidentified individual’s interaction with the Riddler.

“They look so snazzy! Why do all the colourful people have to be evil?” Stephanie said from next to Jason. The man grunted, looked a mix between disturbed and angered. Bruce didn’t blame him. This rogue bore a good chunk of similarities to the Joker. The smile, some of the personality, the green. Though, at least it isn’t a cheerful psychopath in the same way that Joker is. It doesn’t do anything harmful besides property damage, wedgies, and theft. And it steals a lot.

Bruce can count a piece of a billboard with his own face on it, a fruit punch Jarritos, bank money, and even a kid’s lollipop. There’s more, but the list would be longer than Gotham’s Clocktower.

“It has quite the appetite.” Tim murmured. “Invulnerability?” He questioned Bruce.

Bruce nodded. “It seems so. That amongst the abilities to turn itself into a human tornado as well as pull objects from seemingly nowhere.”

“Human cartoon.” Cass’ raspy voice whispered.

A human cartoon indeed.

It eventually got to the part where both Bruce and Damian cornered them in an alleyway. They’d walked into one after growing bored forcing people to tap dance to their will.

Right from the start, the fight had been embarrassing for the dynamic duo.

To begin with, Robin slashed at them with one of his katanas. It didn’t so much as graze them, yet the back of their hand still dramatically touched their forehead and they stumbled around almost a drunkenly as if actually wounded. “Oh! I’ve been hit!” They eventually stumbled to fall into Damian’s arms, ignoring the grunt from the younger boy. “What am I to tell my wife? My children! That their parent can’t come home from this cruel, horrible world?” Damian of course paid it no and cuffed the fellow.

“He even cuffs me on my grave!”

“Stop being dramatic.” Damian bit out, probably rolling his eyes under his domino mask.

“Oh, Robin, are you always such a little fun-sucker?” When everyone blinked, the cuffs suddenly clattered against the grimy floor of the alleyway and Robin was having his own cape tied around him while being shoved to the ground.

“Little twerp.” They gritted out. Voice doing that same similar thing to Joker where it goes from cheerful to rough and deeper, full of annoyance.

Bruce watched Jason bristle at that out of the corner of his eye.

The Bruce on screen in the jab at the back of their head before Robin even hit the ground, yet as soon as everyone blinked again, Bruce was having his own cape tied around him and pushed to the ground. And it was a push. He was right that night. It was considerably lighter than the one aimed towards Robin.

They stood over Bruce as the man struggled, grin seeming lifeless. He doubted it could make any expression other than that grin. “What? You thought I didn’t know you were watching me when I was talking with Eddie-boy?”

They flicked their wrist in a similar manner to when they had still been talking to the Riddler. Sure enough, a cane slid out. “The big. Bad. Bat.” it punctuated each sentence with a jab from the cane into Bruce’s side. “Swaddled like a baby!” It barked out a laugh. Another blink and suddenly Bruce was actually being swaddled like a baby and rocked in the rogue’s arms. “I’ll admit you make for a cute, albeit grumpy one.”

Bruce felt Duke’s gaze slowly slide to him. “…why’d you start sucking the pacifier?”

“It made me.”

“Did it?”

“It did.” Bruce emphasized this time.

Soon after that, the video ended, and everybody started to get suited up for patrol. Bruce was about to put on his cowl when he suddenly got a call. He grabbed his phone and looked at the contact.

It was from Constantine.

Constantine never calls. Not really. Not unless it’s something important. Extremely important. It got to the fifth ring before Bruce finally picked up.

“Bruce! Bruce, are you at the cave?” The man sounded panicked.

“Yes? Constantine, what happ—” Bruce was cut off by the sound of the man teleporting into the cave.

“Bruce! Someone in your filthy, bloody city has the Mask of Loki!” The man yelled, stomping over to him.

The Mask of Loki?

Of-fucking-course it’s magic.

Richard “Dick” Grayson - Nightwing POV

Dick was back in Gotham to see the fam as usual. He’d just gotten off patrol and was now scraping any glue off his face from his mask using a q-tip. He was near a work desk and placed on it. Every now and then, he’d use his pinky to scroll the article he was reading about the new rogue.

This guy was actually insane. Power-wise. And a little mental-wise too. What do you mean they have the powers of a cartoon?

Isn’t that a little broken?

Then again… imps.

He got a message suddenly. Ah, it was from Wally. Dick momentarily put the Q-tip down so he could reply, the other man was asking if he wanted to hang out sometime.

Who was Dick to say no?

Speaking of hanging out… a little bit of guilt welled up in his stomach slightly. He swiped out of his chat with Wally and clicked your icon. He was expecting another offer to hang out from you that he’d have to turn down due to hanging out with some of the other family but… nothing.

Or, at least nothing since the last week he visited. Huh. He’d been in Gotham for three days already. Not a single message on any of those days. (The first day, you were too tired to message him after using the mask. Second, too busy worrying about people finding out about you being the new rogue. And third, too tired and too excited for later that night to use the mask. He was at the very back of your mind.)

Don’t get Dick wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hang out with you. It’s just that you never want to do it with the family and he doesn’t want to do it with you alone. (You don’t wanna hang out with family because there’s a 50% chance Jason can be invited and you don’t want to take that chance.) He just always feels so… awkward around you. He loves you as a little sibling, yes, but he’ll admit he doesn’t know much about you. Though, you never tried to know much about him either. (You did. It’s just that he moved out when you were about nine and even then, there wasn’t much a 17-year-old could do with a nine-year-old. Not only that, but the despite whatever everyone thinks you… don’t know their vigilantes. Guess they overestimated your detective abilities.)

Trying to rationalize it didn’t seem to help him though. His thumb hesitantly pressed the typing bar. Truthfully, despite what he’d told himself earlier, he wouldn’t be that busy with the family. He could afford to spend some time with you. Especially after all the times he’s shirked that onto others. (Despite what Dick thinks, no, you did not go to other people to ask if you could hang out with them. You didn’t have Steph’s phone number, you never got it after she’d gotten a new phone. Tim blocked you (In Tim’s point of view, it was supposed to be temporary and then he forgot to unblock you.) and you don’t have the courage to ask him to unblock you. You and Bruce have never shared a single text message in your life and Duke? You don’t have his number either because… well, you’ve had like two conversations with him)

He typed and deleted repeatedly, trying to find the right words. When he felt he did, he then tried to rack his brain about what you two might do together.

He was only coming up with blanks.

Eventually, he settled on something simple.

Dick: “Do you wanna watch a movie with me tonight?” Read 2:37am

Alright, now to wait for the mor— did that say read at 2:37AM?

Huh.

Well, maybe you’re a night owl like your family. He watched your typing bubble appear. Then disappear. Then it appeared again before disappearing for about a minute.

Finally, after a couple more seconds, your message came through.

[Name]: “Sorry. Can’t” Read at 2:39am

Dick stared at the screen for a bit.

Dick: “You busy or…?” Unread.

You’d just came back from being Gotham‘s newest rogue when your phone vibrated on the nightstand. You picked it up as you threw the mask on your bed. You rubbed your eyes as you typed the passcode. The reason you’d retired so early from being a rogue was that you had a math test in the morning you wanted to be at least somewhat functional for. You absentmindedly noted that Ace hopped on your bed.

It was a text.

From who? Sammy? Kyle? Maria? Those last two were some of your other friends.

You opened the messages app.

Oh.

It’s from Dick.

Dick: “Do you wanna watch a movie with me tonight?” Read 2:37am

You went still for a long moment before quickly typing. How should you respond to this? Dick’s never invited you to do something before!

It’s literally always been the other way around!

You typed an “I’d love to!” before quickly deleting it.

That’s a little too eager.

You played around with few responses, unbeknownst to Ace curiously looking at the mask you’d also oh carelessly left on your bed.

The “bad doggie! Go away” that was hissed went unheard as you kept trying to think of a response that sounded as neutral as possible. Sure, you’d have to forgo being a rogue that night but…

…but what? Wait, you’d have to forgo being a rogue that night.

“Exactly, [Nickname]! We can’t be together if you’re off watching a stupid movie with that guy! Also— TURN AROUND AND DON’T LET THIS MANGY MUTT PUT ME O—.” That last part was practically screeched into your ear as you whipped around. Conveniently just as the dog pushed his cute little face against the inside of the mask and started spinning wildly, twisting sheets before hopping off the bed and knocking into furniture.

Gosh, is that what it looked like when you transformed? No wonder your room was always a mess when you got back!

You typed a quick response to Dick before you could even think and through your phone to the side so you could lunge at the dog and try to rip the mask off him.

Who knows what a dog with your powers could do?!

You found that out by getting slammed into the wall like three times, body-slammed onto your bed and dragged around the room by the dog while you tried to dig your fingers into the mask and rip it off.

Richard “Dick” Grayson - Nightwing POV

“Bad dog, Ace! You shouldn’t have put the mask on!” You were scolding Ace on the other side of your door.

(“Yeah! Stupid dog!” The Mask hissed.)

After a small moment of silence on Dick’s end, Ace suddenly started growling.

“Don’t say that to him! While he might be a dog, he’s my do— Wait, Ace you can understand it?”

The dog barked.

“But how?”

The dog barked a few more times.

(“Two short barks and one long bark. I think that’s dog for ‘I don’t know’, [Nickname].”)

Ace barked again.

(“I was right! He agrees with me!”)

…Was [Name] schizophrenic…? Or at least talking to Ace like he was a human? Dick had been standing outside your door for about two minutes, hand frozen in front of the door about to knock. At first, he’d heard a lot of commotion and banging until it sudden suddenly went quiet. Then you started scolding Ace, and now you were talking to yourself?

He really needed to get you out of the house. Maybe instead of a home movie, they both could go to an actual movie theater?

Dick finally knocked. “[Name], I’m coming in!” He called out before opening the door. As soon as he stepped in, he watched you hide something behind your back as you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Dick.” You blinked wide eyes at him, sharing a surprisingly cryptic look with Ace.

“Uh… [Name]. What’s that behind your back?” Dick asked, pointing at you.

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, suddenly walking closer to him.

Wow. He’d never noticed how tall you’d gotten.

Your hand gripped his shoulder with an honestly surprising amount of strength as you shoved him out of your room and closed the door quickly. “SorryI’msuperbusybye!”

You left him standing in the hall on his lonesome.

It took a couple minutes, but he eventually walked away.

He’d never realized how much you’d grown up.

Also wow! Your hand on your shoulder actually hurt a bit. Damn. He massaged his shoulder lightly as he kept walking.

??? - The Shadow Thief

He touched down on one of the city’s buildings, overlooking the glittering lights below.

“So this is where my newest friend is?” He let himself fall forward until he was soon gliding over Gotham. “I gotta say! I do love their choice in city!”

Extra Bits of Info:

1.) You did in fact make him start sucking the pacifier. 2.) The Black Mask and Penguin negotiation ended in a shootout. 3.) Despite the fact that you don’t know the bats are vigilantes, the mask does. 4.) In case it wasn’t obvious, Dick could not hear anything the mask was saying and now thinks you’re schizophrenic.

Taglist: @yourtypicalhuman09 @cupid73 @yhin-gg @galaxypurplerose @xxgrimripp3rxx @hai-there-how-are-you @suckmyballzfr @yarn-mony @patatasolitaria @deathbynarcisstick @depressed--therapist @eyeless-kun @mary-jinx @natllo @d4rkf10w3er @mintynilla