#and 2) if it was on their radar even a little bit. they would have avoided it bc of Problematic Implications

[mabaris]

“men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive.”

truly insane to have a character say this and then make them actually attracted to men in any capacity. btw.

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Now (PT. 1)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Mild Arguing, Awkward Tension(?)]

(Sorry, forgive and forget isn't an option anymore. Sort of proofread and lightly edited. If you thought the 2nd chapter was long, you're in for a little treat. A little more focus on Dick this time with some sprinkles of the others, and a bit of Tim in the beginning. Meeting some of the reader's friends now. The 2nd part is longer... and sort of where the 'real' stuff happens, but this part of the chapter is still important imo. Take your time reading this, and remember to take breaks!)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain, @d4mi3nn , @mindscape123, @143637-hrrm, @lilyalone, @ceramic-raven , @bruhfan-3 , @i-thirsty-boi , @yandere-enthusiast , @1mawh0re , @vanessa-boo , @agent-nobody-knows , @myeagleexpert , @waitingforanarchicaddiction , @mottysith , @simpingfor-wakasa , @imjustheretogetalif , @toast-on-dandelioms , @instantmiraclekryptonite , @luvr0cksadie , @littlefeather345 , @generosityheart , @emmbny , @sereinitysmind , @love-zami , @angstylittleb1tch , @kiiyoooo , @andrasia , @aenishas , @gyarukitti , @ash1 , @samohxt2-0 , @books-are-everything , @kurai-hono-blog , @veryrascalbiscuitbagel , @lavender-moony

@vikkus-main, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha, @iloveanimeandkpop7, @spacecerealbowl,

If you aren't tagged then I'm sorry! I may have missed you, or tumblr was being weird and it wouldn't work :']

Chapter 3 of this post. Chapter 2. Part 2. [Series Masterlist]

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The night was young when everything went to chaos.

The streets were empty for a change, with no one daring to step outside. With those who once roamed them making an effort to quickly step inside, and wait out the rest of the night. Deciding to be more careful, and not tempt fate one too many times for once.

There was something different about tonight, that much everyone knew, but what exactly was going on was anyone's guess. Something was in the air that made it thicker, and harder to breathe. The atmosphere felt different, and weighed down on the city's residents. No civilian or thug was safe from the sudden change and the effects it had on Gotham. Not to mention that the vigilantes — the people who dared to protect Gotham during its darkest hours — seemed more focused than usual. 

Not in the way where they were more focused on targeting crime in Gotham, and getting rid of her more corrupted and infectious roots, but in some… other way. Like they were focusing on one particular thing, and ignoring everything else in the process. 

What that thing is, no one knew, but most were wary and cautious enough to not get in the way. Unwilling to find out what would happen if they got caught in the crossfire of whatever was happening.

However, this is still Gotham. Where some saw danger, others saw opportunity. So they tried to start something, thinking they could sneak right past the heroes of the city, and fly under their radar more easily compared to previous nights because of how focused they seemed to be on something else. 

Yet, just as the fire began to lit, it was snuffed out.

A heavy stomp stopped the flames from even daring to light, killing it before it could even think to rise. The stomp itself coming down much more swiftly and heavier than before, digging the thugs it hit into the ground. They, the vigilantes who dared to protect Gotham and their citizens night after night, were harsher that way. More brutal than the city had ever seen them before, and that was quick to kill off some sparks that were trying to light. They were quicker, faster, and hit a whole lot harder. As if just wanting to get things over with, and quickly move on. 

It was almost like they were rushing, and whoever thought that wouldn't be entirely wrong.

They just wanted to put all of their time and energy into finding you, but still had half a mind to take care of the crime in Gotham. Since, they'd have to deal with it anyway if they wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. Not to mention the off chance that some thugs could be messing with you, and so they'd get to swoop in and save you if they ever ran into such an altercation. Though, they didn't want to run around and just hope for that chance, so they also chose certain places and people to interrogate and search for. Taking out any and all thugs as well as minor criminals along the way.

As if anyone in their way was doomed from the day they were born, and dared to step foot in Gotham. As if they were cursed the very moment they dared to live in this damned city at all.

Nevertheless, some went after your teachers while others went to search through places you had been to for one reason or another. Whether it was for a performance or otherwise, it didn't matter. The fact that you had been there before was the only detail they cared about.

Finding you, and any information about you came first. Everything else was secondary.

That's why Tim was more focused on trying to find more… personal information about you. From your email, to where you lived, and who your friends are — he wanted to know everything. Even if he already had your phone number, you weren't responding or picking up whatsoever. Which wasn't exactly helping him calm down. 

If only he could track your phone somehow-

["You have any new information yet?"]

Jason suddenly spoke up, making Tim scoff and narrow his eyes at the computer screen he was looking at, as if it was Jason's face. 

How annoying.

"You've asked that question several times in the last fifteen minutes."

["And? Do you have any new information, or what?”]

Tim could only roll his eyes, having been scrolling through so many social media posts and pages, that he had lost count of exactly how many he had gone through or looked at. All he knew was that the total amount was quickly approaching triple digits.

Anything mentioning you caught his interest, and eventually he had found your public account — which, as expected, just held dates for your performances and when a new album or song of yours would be coming out. There were also a few previews of songs you would be playing at the time, had written, or both, and as much as Tim would like to listen to them all, he couldn't. Not right now anyway. He had to focus, for you.

… Though he'd keep it in mind for later.

"Besides more places where Y/n has performed, and when? No. Who could've guessed."

Jason scoffs, which almost made Tim smile a little but he quickly wiped it off his face, focusing again.

["Guys, let's not fight, alright? Just focus on finding Y/n."]

Dick suddenly spoke as well, the sounds of a fight slowly dying down could faintly be heard in the background.

["I'm not trying to start a fight, but y'know what would help with finding Y/n? Some fucking new information."]

["Language!" Dick sighs before continuing, "Look, just calm down-"]

["I am calm."]

["-and focus. We'll find them."]

Jason clicks his tongue, clearly getting upset. 

Tim couldn't say much, seeing as he's already a bit upset himself, but that wasn't really saying much either. All of them were getting progressively frustrated and annoyed, but it was the source of those feelings that were different for each and every one of them. You were a big part of it, of course, but their anger wasn't directed towards you — not for Tim, anyway. Never.

Rather, it's the factors that surrounded you, and maybe their hate and guilt towards themselves, and what they've missed in your life — is what really drove them to try as hard as they are now. They all want to see you, but they have their own separate reasons despite how similar they may seem.

["How the hell can you be so sure? They could be getting killed, or being tortured right now. We need to find them as soon as possible- and you'll never guess what we need for that to happen."]

Tim could practically hear the eye roll in Jason's voice.

["We're all trying to find Y/n as fast as we can! Have a little faith, they can fight-"]

["You don't actually believe that, right?"]

["..."]

Dick's silence spoke volumes, but some of them understood it better than others, because they feel the same way. Fighting in tournaments and in controlled environments is different than fighting out in the streets, and in Gotham no less. No amount of trophies or medals could change their minds on that. Nothing could.

["See? Even you don't believe it."]

[Dick sighs, "Look, let's just keep looking while Babs and Tim grab more information, alright? We have to be patient."]

["That's reeeal rich coming from the guy who rushed out of the fucking Manor, the very second he heard Alfred didn't know where Y/n was. Weren't you the first one to start looking for them in the city?"]

["Y/n isn't going to be dead in the next few minutes, Jason-"]

["You don't fucking know that."]

Again, a brief silence passes as Dick just sighs again.

["Grayson does have a point, Todd."]

Damian spoke up, causing Tim to roll his eyes almost instinctively. Just remembering that he was technically working with the youngest Wayne, made his mood worsen. Though he just pushed his annoyance to the side, and continued his search. 

If it were up to him, he wouldn't be working with half of the family, but that's the thing — he didn't have a choice. None of them really did. Finding you was just that important to them. You, in general, had become that important to them, and in just a few mere hours no less. Even if it left a few of them biting their tongues, and hiding their clear distaste for having to work with certain people. Still, they tried to work together to the best of their ability.

Tim just took a breath, still listening in on the conversation as he scrolls through even more websites and pages. A collection of photos and announcements leading him down a rabbit hole of posts, and finding some accounts that Tim was beginning to think belonged to your friends with how often they commented, the things they'd say, and how you'd respond. Even if the majority of those comments were on older posts, it was still something. So, he dug deeper.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that your personal account was private. Since, he found one of the accounts he thought belonged to one of your friend's, and they mentioned an account Tim couldn't access. Of course, he hacked it and got in, but there still wasn't anything of use from what he could see. The occasional pictures were nice, even if they didn't show your face too often, but they didn't give him any information he could use to locate you. Hell, even the account itself didn't have a set location listed, and nor did your email. With the only thing he could gather from posts you privated being that you were still in Gotham, at the very least.

However it did seem like you not only didn't post too often, but were careful about what you posted even on your private account. Not to mention who you posted about as well, and how you worded things. As if you knew someone would be looking through your posts someday, and try to find you. As if you knew Tim would be looking through your page, and try to find you by the little bits of information he thought you'd accidentally leave behind. However, all he found was mostly inconclusive with his current objective. The most he could gather was that you either lived in an apartment, were staying with a friend, or settling at various hotels and such just to have a roof over your head. Though not much else.

Sighing, he kept looking.

Just where are you?

["Oh yeah? How so, demon spawn?"]

["Jason-!"]

["L/n knows how to fight, they can surely take care of themself for a few minutes." Damian states. Cutting off Dick, and ignoring the name Jason used to refer to him.]

["Oh, so you believe that?" Jason scoffs.]

["I haven't been given a reason to think otherwise."]

["Right. Okay. So let's say that Y/n isn't dead for a second here. Do you know how many enemies they could potentially have? Or just how many people want them dead? They're known as a Wayne kid, and a musician too, apparently. Anyone could be after their head, or want to squeeze some money out of them for all we know. How are they supposed to fight against threats like that?"]

["And you think they aren't prepared for that? With how much time has passed, I doubt they'd still remain ignorant to such risks. Especially with the career they've chosen as well." Damian scoffs, as if frustrated and offended on your behalf, "No wonder L/n left."]

["Damian!" Dick exclaims, the youngest Robin's words clearly uncalled for.]

["What? You don't truly believe they just ‘ran away’. Do you, Grayson? Even Father doesn't believe such nonsense."]

Tim could only remain silent, but he had suspected as much as well. He didn't particularly enjoy agreeing with Damian, but for a change, it seemed that they were on the same page. 

After all, the more Tim looked, and the deeper his research went, the possibility of you having left, instead of ran away, was turning into a clear certainty. Not to mention that various details he noticed in different posts, seemed to indicate that you had no intentions of coming back home, further proving that thought to be true.

It wasn't really even through posts you made either, but instead posts your friends had made. Various pictures and videos shared on their accounts showing the pieces of your life that the family had missed out on. Showing Tim what he had missed out on. 

From parties and celebrations that were held for your accomplishments and your friend's, to events you attended with them instead of someone from your family. To smaller things such as various study sessions that were held, sleepovers and all the fun activities you did with your friends, to sneaky photos taken of you practicing, and how nervous you used to be behind stage — only to later show how confident and comfortable you had grown in more recent pictures.

He saw your life and nearly every part of it he had missed through someone else's eyes. Through the camera lens that captured how much fun you had, or just how happy you were during the time the photo was taken, or how calm you looked as you set up your instrument and prepared to play it, and how focused you became when you did. Videos that showed you getting into the zone, and displaying your amazing skill and talent that Tim never saw up until now. That the rest of the family never knew about until recently, just because they couldn't put a few seconds to the side to even try and give your music a listen. Just because they never made time for you, and now they were finally paying the price for it. Finally realizing what they had truly lost, and why the occasional, soft melodies that would play at night had stopped entirely.

They had pushed you away, and you left. That was the true reality of the situation.

Yet the others didn't seem to believe it, or maybe refused to. Seeing as no one dared to say anything else for a few moments.

["... Bruce?" Dick hesitantly spoke up, he clearly didn't want to think about it. Let alone consider it.]

A heavy sigh could be heard before Bruce said anything. 

["It's a possibility." His cold, calculated voice pierced through the air. It was less clear, but he didn't seem too fond of the idea either.]

["'Possibility'? Father, you can't be serious-" Damian tries to speak up, only to get cut off.]

["Exactly! Yeah! It's only a possibility, and we won't know for sure unless we find them." Stephanie pitches in, clearly trying to stay a little positive despite the situation.]

["Right…" Dick took a breath, "Well, what do you think, Tim?"]

"..."

Tim's silence said everything, and besides, he was much too focused on a particular thing he managed to find to really be paying attention anyway.

["... Tim?"]

["To think that Drake would be the only other sensible person here. Unbelievable."]

["Look- we don't know for sure, okay? But anyway, how did the interrogation go? Find out anything?"]

The rest of the conversation fell into the background. Tim would roll his eyes, but again, something else had caught his attention, seeing as he found a rather peculiar post.

On one of your friends' accounts, there was a post that showed you and two other people. All of you were wearing formal clothes, and stepping out of a theater that Tim recognized. The person taking the selfie had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he noted that they were the owner of the account. The other person was hugging your arm, and did bunny ears behind your head. All of you were smiling, and you looked so… happy..

Tim shook his head, and just focused on the individual hugging your arm. He didn't recognize them, not completely anyway, but noticed how their account was tagged in the post, and how it was an account he hadn't looked into yet. So, he went to their page and scrolled through their various posts. A particular detail already catching his interest as he scrolled down.

This person seemed to spend a lot of time with you…

Not that your other friends didn't, but this person seemed to have more posts with you in them, compared to the other accounts Tim has looked through thus far. There were many photos of you both hanging out, with some other personal posts sprinkled in here and there — but Tim isn't here for that. He's looking for you, so of course he ignored posts that didn't involve you.

Most of the photos showed you both hanging out and doing various activities together. With Tim's heart squeezing the more he saw, and further began to realize just how much of your life he had missed. Though he pushed it all to the side, just as he has been doing this entire time.

He could feel terrible about all the nights you spent away from home, and how no one noticed, later. He could feel guilty about all the time he's wasted not being with you when given the chance after he found you. 

Only then, once you were safe again, once you were home, would he allow himself to feel the full weight of all he hadn't done. Though only when you were home, would he let himself fully see and realize just how little of an impact he had on your life. How he may as well have just been nothing but a figment of your imagination with how often he was present, along with everyone else.

Though, for that, he had to find you first, and he will, so he kept looking.

Eventually, he did stumble across a curious post. One that not only confirmed his suspicions, but also gave the most important piece of information Tim could've found right now.

It was another photo taken without your knowledge, seeing as your back was facing the camera, and a bit of your friend's face could be shown. You were moving some boxes into a building, and your friend seemed to be covering their mouth with their other hand — as if they had been laughing and were trying to cover it up. The caption of the post said how you lost a bet, and now had to move in most of the boxes yourself, but how they'd help you if they saw you genuinely struggling. Only to put in parentheses how viewers of the post shouldn't tell you that. 

However, what caught his interest was the text on the image itself, and what parts of the building were shown.

['First day of moving in!!! Already making my bestie hate me by having them do all of the work♡ They're the best! Look at them go ♡♡'] The text in the photo read, with the building itself having a number, among various other details to suggest that it was an apartment building. 

Tim felt his heart leap to his throat. No way, had he really…? No. No, he couldn't get his hopes up, but he searched for the building by using the other photos your friend had taken that eventually got him a street name and number. It didn't even take him a minute to find the exact building that perfectly mirrored the one in your friend's photo. 

He tried to not work himself up too much, as he didn't waste any time finding the building's security system, and hacking into it. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only to end up disappointed. He didn't want to think about certain things or make up assumptions, only for them to turn up untrue. Yet, his heart rate increased as his hands began to shake despite his efforts.

No way, he thought. No way.

Getting into the system was a breeze, but Tim could hardly focus on that as he immediately looked through the building's security footage. He matched the dates of both the post and footage, and found you bringing in boxes, just as the photo had shown.

He watched you go into the elevator and took note of what floor you went up to, and eventually what apartment you walked into as well once you got there. Tim even observed as you took a second to yourself, sighing before going back down, and doing the process all over again — and even how you had to use the stairs at one point. Seeing as your friend had the bright idea to 'race' you, and see who could get most of the remaining boxes to the apartment in the least amount of time. It was a close tie, and your friend had won, but that's besides the point.

Tim went through other footage just to make sure he had the right information, and knew for certain that you lived in this particular apartment with your friend. For all he knew, you could've just offered to help them move in that day, so he had to be sure. He had to be certain. He couldn't afford to be wrong this time around.

Yet with all the footage he was able to review, and all the dates getting closer and closer to the current day, he was able to confirm it. He saw you walk in and out of that exact apartment on that exact floor, and leave and enter that exact building multiple times. With the amount of time that's passed, it made sense — even if Tim couldn't figure out where you had stayed between the few weeks you had presumably left the Manor and when you moved in with your friend, but that hardly mattered now. What did matter is that he found out where you live, and now had your address.

He almost couldn't believe it, staring at the document where he has been listing all of the information he's gathered from this search. 

Having just finished writing down your address, it all felt so unreal.

He's done it. He's finally done it.

"Holy shit." Tim cursed under his breath, disbelief clear in his voice.

["Language, Tim."]

Bruce's voice suddenly sounded, causing Tim to jump before he quickly tried to settle down. 

"Right, sorry." He apologized, placing a hand over his racing heart. God, that scared him more than it should've.

["Did you find anything?"]

Someone tsked at the question – while Tim just looked at his screen, still processing all that's happened, and suddenly feeling unsure. 

Should he just keep this to himself, so that he could go after you? The others didn't know where you live… they didn't have to know yet. This was a golden opportunity — should he really be giving this up?

["With how long it's been? And all he's been able to find out? We'll be lucky if he even knows if Y/n is dating or not."]

["Jason, c'mon.." Dick tried to pitch in, dragging on.]

["What? I'm just saying-"] 

"I know where Y/n lives." He found himself blurting out, Jason's words irritating him more than they would've. More than they should've.

["... Really? Where are they, Tim?" Dick didn't waste a moment to ask.]

["Yeah, just spill already so we can go get them."]

["Send me their location."]

["Send me the info too!"]

Tim could only sigh, rubbing his temple as he tried to collect his thoughts. Of course he just had to run his mouth before thinking things over. Of course he had to let that little comment get to him. Of course he just had to allow it to get to him so much that it made him give up the most important piece of information he had found out tonight. 

Of course. Just great.

["Guys, I don't think it's a good idea for all of you to just go and see Y/n."]

Barbara finally spoke up, voice calm and collected. 

["Why? I mean, I get that seeing the whole family all at once might be a little overwhelming… but I don't see why a few of us can't go." Dick questioned.]

["Because it's been months since they've last seen any of us? There's a reason why they haven't gone back to the Manor, and still haven't picked up your or Tim's calls."]

["... You're not saying-"]

["I'm just suggesting that maybe only one of you should go to kind of… test out the waters. We can't be sure of anything, and the best way to see how we should go about things is to know how Y/n feels about us first."]

["But we need to bring them home, they're not safe out here." Jason pointed out, already not liking the idea.]

["I know, but we can't just show up and expect them to comply because we're family. For all we know, they might-"]

["Okay! Um, I think we get it now." Stephanie interrupted, the idea already bothering her.]

["Fine, then I'll go." Jason proposed, sounding like he was just finishing up taking out a few thugs, if the faint noises in the background were anything to go by.]

"And why's that? I already have the location, so I'll go." Tim pointed out, already gathering his stuff, preparing to leave as quickly as he could.

["Because if they try anything, I'll be able to stop them. What're you going to do with your scrawny, lanky arms?"]

"They won't fight me, Jason." Tim sighed, as if that was obvious, "and besides, I thought you didn't think they could fight anyway?"

["I don't, but anyone could take you down without even trying."]

["Jay! Ugh," Dick groans, "Look, I'll go, okay?"]

["Oh yeah? And why should you go instead of me?"]

["Because at least I won't scare them off, and if anything happens then I can handle it too."]

["I'm going." Bruce stepped in, speaking as if the decision was already made.]

["If Father is going, then so am I." Damian chipped in.]

["The last person Y/n needs to see right now is definitely you, demon spawn." Jason scoffed.]

["You'll just scare them before you even get a word in, Bruce!" Dick tried to reason.]

["Hey, um, what if I go instead? At least I won't intimidate them or push them to come with us too hard." Stephanie suggested.]

Tim sighed, "Look, I can go and reason with them. Again, I already have the location so it makes sense-"

["No." Bruce said flatly.]

"But why!?"

["Father already said that he and I are going to see L/n," Damian stated, as if it was obvious, with a small scoff. Adding on, "Todd may also have a point."]

"So?! I already have the information, and I already said that Y/n won't fight me!"

["We can't say for sure what they will and won't do," Dick said, trying to deescalate the situation, "like Babs said, it's been a while. We don't know how they'll react or how they feel about us."]

["Is this you just trying to seem reasonable, so you can go see them first?" Jason asked, unconvinced.]

["What?! Of course not-!"]

["You're not really convincing anyone here, Dick…" Stephanie pointed out.]

The back and forth went on for a while. None of them could come to an agreement, as they all want to see you. They all want to be the first to actually meet you, and to experience what they all have found out about you first hand. Even if certain individuals were more guilty of that than others, the point still remained. 

They just want to see you so much, could you really blame any of them?

Barbara sighed at the chaos, the arguments and defenses just getting more and more ridiculous. Eventually, just boiling down to certain people trying to prove that they want to see you more compared to others, and therefore should be the first to see you.

They all miss you, or desperately want to see the idea of you that they had created in their heads, but that wasn't a valid reason for why they should go and see you either. Especially considering how important this meeting would be. Since it would change and determine a lot of things, depending on how well or awful it went.

"Guys, look, just- whoever's the closest to the location should go." Barbara suggested with another sigh, which thankfully caused the constant arguing to stop for now. 

["Fine, alright then." Tim agreed, albeit reluctantly.]

Barbara could only be a little thankful for the cooperation, but slowly grew confused at the silence that followed.

"Tim?" She asked, only to get another sigh as a response.

["It's Dick."]

["What? Really?!" Dick exclaimed, clearly happy at this turn of events.]

["Yes." Tim confirmed with a small groan, the frown evident in his voice.]

"Well, that settles it. Dick, you're going. Tim, send him the address. The right address, okay? We don't need more arguments or complications on this." Barbara says, "Don't push them too hard. The last thing we need is for their opinion of us to get worse, Dick."

["I know, I know. It'll be fine! I've got this!" Dick still sounded a little too happy, before suddenly going quiet.]

Barbara could only hope for the best at this rate.

["Did he seriously just turn off his comm link, and leave?" Jason asked as his voice rose, clearly upset.]

["Seems like it. Can't say I'm surprised since he sounded reallly happy to be able to see Y/n." Stephanie confirmed, sighing softly.]

["This is going to go poorly." Damian grimaced with another scoff.]

["Yeah, well, we can only hope he doesn't mess up too badly."]

["Let's try to think a little realistically, Tim." Jason said.]

Barbara just let out a huff as she looked at the screens in front of her. A little hope never killed anyone, but really, she didn't have a good feeling about this.

Maybe Dick really wasn't the best choice.

—

You were still calmly sitting in your apartment, messing around with the instrument in your hands. Since you've been switching between the ones you have every now and again, trying to find a particular melody you were looking for, but hadn't found just yet. You didn't have easy access to as many instruments as you did a few months ago, but you learned to work with what you had. Having taken home the very first instrument you bought yourself, and a few more of your favorites that could fit in the apartment that you managed to get your hands on for a decent price.

Sure, you did have other places you could go to that allowed you to play the other instruments you didn't have, but you liked to play at home if you could help it. There was just something about being in a comfortable space while composing a song or melody, that just felt nice. You truly felt at home, a feeling you didn't realize you missed until you left the manor and finally had a space that you could truly call your own. A feeling you didn't want to let go of, if you could help it.

Your life was still busy but it was beginning to slow down. You dedicated more time to things you actually enjoyed, but also made an effort to take care of yourself and hold onto good habits you had developed over the years. Though you were still trying to let go of some bad ones, you were making progress. 

You felt… happy here. At peace, even.

You were surrounded by people that saw you and even recognized you, and were beginning to see that you had a family of your very own all along. 

Unlike the family you were adopted into, your friends showed their care and support — and if anything, made sure you wouldn't forget it. With you showing the same care and support back, and your efforts being recognized instead of pushed to the side. Being reciprocated instead of leaving you with nothing, and making you feel more alone and unwanted than words could describe.

Sure, it wasn't perfect, and you've had your fair share of arguments and times where you needed space, but that was okay. You didn't need perfection, and you didn't need constant happiness. You just needed love and care, and that's what you found. Among other things you didn't ask for or necessarily need, but appreciated deeply regardless.

You felt like you had finally found what you've been searching for, and nothing could make you happier.

Yet, somewhere in your heart, you knew it couldn't last forever, and as if hearing your worries, an abrupt knock echoed throughout the apartment.

You paused what you were doing, humming curiously to yourself as you turned to look at the front door from your position on the couch. Who could that be at this hour? It certainly wasn't your roommate, seeing as they were sound asleep in their room, and you could still hear their snores despite being in the living room. So who else could it be?

Maybe it was Ms. Harry again, seeing as she had a bit of an odd tendency to knock on the wrong door sometimes. After all, she was old, and her memory was slowly getting worse, but she was always quick to fix her mistakes. So you just shrugged and turned away, convinced that it was another one of those nights where she just so happened to mistakenly knock on your door. So you let it be, knowing that she'd correct herself on her own and move along.

However, another set of knocks sounded. 

They were a little louder this time, as if the person on the other side of the door really did want to be noticed. Which made you pause and look back at the door, taking a brief glance at the clock.

It was getting late, and not many people were out and about during this time of night. Not the people on your floor, anyway. Though, you still tried to think of anyone who could be at the door right now.

Besides your roommate, not many of your friends lived particularly close. With the amount of them that would not only be up at this time of night, but would also personally come to bother you without sending a text or anything, being even smaller. The more you think about it, the shorter the list of potential people got, and you don't know if that should make you more confused or worried. Maybe a bit of both, but you weren't sure.

More knocks sounded. Again, they were louder compared to the last set, if only by a little.

Well, whoever was at your door was being rather persistent, so you decided to at least check it out. 

Reluctantly, you set the instrument you had been fiddling with for the past hour to the side. Sighing softly as you got up from your spot on the couch, and quietly approached the door. 

Moving about as silently as you could was an odd habit you couldn't shake, and while your friends have joked and commented about it, you suppose it was just another remnant of your life in the manor. A life you were still trying to gradually leave behind.

Regardless, you made your way to the door, and yet here — right at the foot of it, an odd feeling began to blossom in your chest. You couldn't make sense of it, but as you reached for the knob, you found yourself stopping. It didn't feel like a good idea to open the door, and though you couldn't figure out why, you just took a small breath and pushed the feeling to the side. 

Clearly, you were having a weird night, but just to humor yourself, you decided to 'comply' with whatever this feeling was, and check who was at the door by looking through the peephole instead.

It was only then did you understand.

You took a few silent steps back, putting your hand over your mouth as you kept your eyes on the door. Tingles of unease slowly crawling down your spine, and your heart began to beat against your chest harshly. You don't know if what you saw was real, but you didn't want to check again. Once felt like enough, especially since your legs felt like they were sinking into the floor.

How… how did they know where you live?

You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves as you took a few more steps away from the door. You have no idea what's going on, but all you know was that you don't want Dick knowing where you live. He might know the floor and building, but you refuse to give him the exact room if you could help it. So, you quickly moved to your room and got ready, a quick plan forming in your head.

Changing was easy, and so was gathering the stuff you thought you'd need for this. Not exactly too worried about the shoes you put on or anything like that, as your heart leapt from your chest to your throat when more knocks came, basically pounding against the door.

Fuck. He was getting impatient.

Picking up the pace, you made any last minute adjustments you could to your appearance, before quickly deciding that you looked good enough to be outside. Rushing to a window, you didn't waste any time opening it, grabbing onto a pipe that was exposed on the side of the building, closing the window, and sliding down the pipe until you reached the ground. Thanking your past self for having done that enough times to be used to it.

Knowing for a fact that you heard more knocks on your way down, you hurriedly rushed back into the apartment building and basically ran to the elevator. Thanking the gods that it had opened when you first called it, you rushed inside and hit the button for your floor. Hurriedly tapping on the button that closed the elevator doors as they slowly shut, as if that would make them move faster somehow.

As the elevator rose, you prayed that it wouldn't stop and that it'd go straight up to your floor, not knowing if you could afford to risk losing time like that. Especially when the thought of a certain vigilante breaking down your door because you didn't answer it, popped into your head.

Your hands were sweaty, your heart was racing, and you could hardly stand still as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor. Staring at the counter above the elevator buttons as if that'd make the numbers go up faster, and occasionally glancing at the doors as if they'd open at any moment. Questions and possibilities rushed through your head, but you hardly had any time to think about any of them as a small ding sounded, and the doors finally opened. Ignoring how the small sound made you jump a bit, you tried not to look too nervous as you stared at the hallway in front of you.

Oh god, you were really doing this.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you stepped out of the elevator and took a breath. Trying to calm down your heart a bit as you gathered your composure, and acted as normally as you could manage. Walking forward, you rounded the corner, and there he was in all of his tainted glory. 

"Di- I- I mean, Nightwing?" You call out, trying to grab the vigilante's attention before he did anything rash — and you seem to have caught him at just the right moment. As he seemed just about ready to bust open the lock to your door, and break into your apartment. Which, he thankfully pulls away as he whips around to look at you, clearly surprised.

You were almost too grateful to have caught him just in time.

"What are you doing here?" You took a few steps forward, but nothing more. Not wanting your efforts to go to waste right away, even if you knew it was only a matter of time when it came to these guys.

"Oh! Y/n- hi! I didn't, um, I didn't see you there." Dick greets with a smile, acting oddly nervous, which makes you raise a brow. "How long have you been, uh, standing there?" He asks, probably trying to see if you saw how he was about to break into your apartment. You both know you did, but you could play dumb for now.

"Um, I just got back so… not long, I guess? Why?" You tilt your head to the side, taking note of how Dick seemed to visibly relax. 

Was he always so… tense?

"No reason! I was just wondering, but, uh," He glances to the side before looking back at you, and taking in your appearance. He took in every little detail he could, and wow… you really were different from what he was expecting, but in the best way possible. 

Your voice was different than he remembered, and everything about you was just so… fitting, even if he's never seen it before. Even if he didn't remember having seen the style of clothes you wore on you before, or seeing the accessories you had on your person either. You really look like you've grown up now and have become an adult, with your own sense of style and fashion. Having all these little ways to show how you've grown, and become more comfortable with yourself. 

Dick couldn't help but love it as much as it hurt him.

"It's good to see you." He couldn't help but blurt out, smiling softly. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

You only fiddled with your sleeves, averting your eyes for a moment as you purse your lips into a thin line. The way he looks at you made you feel uncomfortable to say the least, and his whole demeanor was nothing you have seen from him before. Not directed towards you, anyway, and you couldn’t help but struggle trying to remember the last time he smiled at you in person. All you could remember was seeing his back turned towards you as he walked away, a flash of a pathetic smile showing on his face briefly before he continued walking forward. Never looking back...

Maybe you've just grown too familiar seeing his smile in photographs and painted pictures, instead of in person.

Yet, how he looks you over now — and seems to take in every detail he manages to find — isn't exactly making this the most comfortable situation to be in. You feel exposed, and rub your arm before stopping yourself. You couldn't afford to show signs of weakness or vulnerability. Not with him. Not while he was in the suit.

Taking in a short breath, you gave a small nod. Managing to look back at Dick, and push down your nerves. The last thing you want was for him to notice how you truly feel, and point it out, or feel some kind of obligation to do something about it. The last thing you need was for him to stick around for longer than he has to.

"Yeah, um, anyway- that didn't really answer my question…?" You hesitantly point out, unsure if you should've mentioned anything at all, but feeling the need to do so. Even if you rather not be in this position, you prefer this over him breaking down your door. 

"Did something happen? I- I don't know how much help I can give since… y'know- I'm not a crime-fighting vigilante in latex, but I can see what I can do?" You try to joke a little, mostly for yourself and to further ease your nerves as a few small chuckles escape you. Yet it doesn't help as much as you would've liked.

Did they always scare you this much?

"Oh, no! No, no, no- nothing happened! I just wanted to, um, come see you, is all!" Dick admits, and even if that may have been enough reasoning for him, it wasn't for you. It just doesn't make sense, and maybe that was the years of being put off to the side — or almost outright ignored — talking, but you couldn't imagine him just randomly popping out of nowhere, just because he wants to see you. There has to be a reason, even if you don't know what that reason would be.

"By going to my friend's apartment…? That doesn't really make a lot of sense.. um, Nightwing." 

"Oh. Uh, you don't live here?" It was so weird seeing someone like Dick be so openly nervous. Was he always like this? You couldn't really tell, but if there was something going on he wasn't hiding it very well. It was almost like he was trying to not mess up or something, but you don't know why.

"No… but I do visit often? I mean, that is why I'm here and everything-" A few nervous chuckles escape you as you scratch the back of your neck, once again averting your gaze. "If you want, we could talk over a cup of coffee? I know a good place nearby, and even if I'm sure you can't exactly dine-in or anything, I could just take it to-go or something." You hesitantly offer, getting the feeling that Dick wouldn't leave easily, and still thinking that if there really is something going on — you could give him a chance to talk about it, at the very least.

"Sure! Yeah! But, uh. Is that really a good idea? It could be dangerous, and I think it's for the best if we stay inside or go to your place instead." Dick suggests, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

"My place?" 

"Yeah, I mean I would offer mine but Bludhaven isn't exactly close, y'know?" He snickers. Yet it only made you pause. The smallest bits of a bad feeling beginning to form in your stomach.

"I- I don't think that's a good idea…"

"But it's better than hanging around outside or something, right? This is Gotham, after all." You didn't like how Dick says that. Saying it like you didn't already know. Like you were ignorant of how bad the city you live in was, despite having experienced it first hand on multiple occasions.

"I know, but there has to be some other place we can talk, then just my place." 

"Well, there is the-"

"No." You immediately shot it down, already feeling like you knew what he was going to say, "Not there. Let's- let me just grab the coffee first, and we can figure it out from there, alright?" You didn't want to deal with more than you have to, and you weren't going to go back. Not now. Not ever, if you could help it.

"Oh, sure! I'll just tag along," Dick said simply, almost as if it was obvious, as he smiles, approaching you casually.

"I-" You pause before just sucking in a breath and giving a small nod, a weak smile displaying itself on your face, "-yeah, sure. That- that works." Even if you don't want Dick to follow you, it is better than having him just stand at your door, anyway. Though you still aren't exactly comfortable with the idea, you didn't have many options.

"Great! I'll meet you outside!" Dick grins before leaving through the window at the end of the hall.

Now by yourself for a while, you exhaled deeply, not even realizing how long you've been holding your breath. 

You aren't sure if you could do this, but you don't feel like you have much of a choice anymore as you just try to steady and calm down your racing heart. 

Making your way back to the elevator, you try to not think too much about what's going on as you step back inside, and push the correct button, waiting for it to descend.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, and despite how you try to ignore it – you could feel that something was wrong. Though you just chalked it up to how you aren't used to Dick talking with you,  or smiling towards you – or really anything at all when it came to him. You tried to, anyway, but you were slowly beginning to doubt it.

There was something in his smile, and the way that he spoke that just felt strange to you. Even if you haven't had many conversations or interactions with him, you could still catch how different he seemed tonight. Though you weren't entirely sure. After all, you didn't know much about his personality or usual antics, just as he didn't know much about you as a whole.

On any other occasion you'd try to let it go, but doing so didn't feel right this time. It feels stupid, and almost as if you'd put yourself in more danger by trying to, so for now you'd just keep it in mind. Even if nothing came of it, at least you were being cautious, right?

You aren't sure, not entirely anyway. Since it was always hard to tell what is and isn't a good decision with Dick and the others, but you don't have much time to dwell on it as the elevator doors open once again.

All you could do was just hope that this would end as quickly as it started. For both your and Dick's sake, but mostly for your own.

Nevertheless, you step out of the elevator and make your way out of the building. There, you saw Dick leaning against a lamppost, before looking at you. The smile he gave only made the pit in your stomach grow bigger, but you tried to return the gesture the best you could.

Neither smile reached either of your eyes.

"So, you know where it is?"

"Yeah- it isn't too far from here. Just a few blocks away, it's not that far of a walk." 

"Great! You don't mind leading, then?"

"No, um. I can lead."

"Perfect, let's get going then." Dick says, his smile growing a little bigger as he makes his way over, and stops beside you, waiting for you to lead the way.

You just gave a nod, taking a nervous step forward as you both began to walk. You knew the directions by heart at this point, and so you just let your own feet guide you along the streets of Gotham. With Dick following right along, humming under his breath.

An awkward silence fell over both of you.

You try to not think about it too much, knowing that the detail would only further bother you, and make you feel more nervous than you already are. So you drew your attention elsewhere, and focused on the city itself instead.

Not many people were walking about, which immediately struck you as odd since Gotham was always so lively despite how dangerous it is. Even if more people were out during the day, there were still lots of people who were out at night for one reason or another. Granted, most of them are dangerous, everyone knows that, but some just simply went about their business. The city was dangerous, but that didn't stop people from going about their lives. Even if it did make it easier for thugs and the like to hide within the crowds.

Still, the change was noticeable. Gotham wasn't exactly known to be quiet, let alone this inactive. It felt strange, and when you glance over to Dick, you couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he didn't seem all that bothered by the change. If anything, you were almost getting the impression that he hadn't noticed it at all.

So, you just keep looking ahead, and focusing on other things. Deciding to not comment on anything if Dick wasn't.

Yet you still couldn’t shake it.

The absence of sirens in the air and occasional gunshots didn't sit right with you, and even the amount of people driving by wasn't as much as it'd usually be. The city didn't feel busy, let alone as alive as it would've been on any other night, and it's bothering you. It's like some sort of silent evacuation is going on, or a lock down of some kind that not everyone was informed of. There were more whispers than there were shouts, and a kind of awkward peace, instead of striking violence and chaos.

You couldn't believe it, was this Gotham's first real quiet night?

CRACK.

Perhaps you spoke too soon.

A sickening crack sounded from somewhere within the city, the noise so loud and sudden that it immediately caught your attention, as you looked in the direction of where you heard it come from. You could've sworn you heard a scream that followed right after, only for it to swiftly get cut off. 

It was only then did you really take a look around, and notice how the people you passed by looked equally tense and nervous. An unsaid, but shared feeling of tension and anxiety hung in the air, and now that you noticed it — you couldn't ignore it.

What didn't help was when you saw someone in an alleyway cocking their gun, only for them to swiftly get roped into the darkness, causing them to drop their weapon in the process. A sickening pop sounded, and then deafening silence followed. The only evidence that anyone had ever stood in that particular spot, was the gun the thug had dropped. 

Through the shadows of the alleyway, and faint light from the moon, you could almost make out a figure in the darkness. Yet just as they turned to look at you, your eyes darted away. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Are… are you sure there isn't anything going on? It seems oddly… quiet, tonight." You point out hesitantly, small tingles dancing down your spine, and they were far from pleasant.

"Hm? Oh, well, I guess you could say something is happening, but the others are taking care of it." Dick reassures as he waves his hand dismissively. "Though that's why I think it'd be better if we talked inside. The last thing I want is for someone to eavesdrop on our conversation, and for you to get caught in the crossfire of everything." Yet you couldn't help but feel like it was a little too late for that.

Being associated with Dick, and the others — let alone being someone that they'd actually turn to for assistance or anything — already made someone prone to being caught in any crossfire that dealt with their vigilante work. Even if the person didn't get caught in between things by some miracle, it would be hard to ignore the newly painted target on their back. Being known for having a connection to Batman, and anyone he had taken under his wing one way or another, had its problems, and you already had to deal with your own fair share of trouble just for being known as another kid who got adopted by Bruce Wayne. 

You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly had to deal with more trouble just from this conversation alone, since word traveled around fast in Gotham, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You'd just deal with that when the time came, if it ever did.

Still, you didn't fully believe Dick. Your feelings of the situation becoming more messy, and unclear as you try to piece things together. You couldn't tell if what was going on was something to worry about, or stress over. Since Dick was acting so dismissively about it, and yet the effect it's having on Gotham was unmistakable. Is it big enough to cause the city to go quiet, but not dangerous enough to worry about? Or is it something else entirely?

You took a breath. Maybe it's best if you just think about it later. You already have enough on your plate as it is, and the biggest thing you have to worry about right now is Dick. All you have to do is find out what he wants, and handle things from there. That's it. That's all you have to do.

So, you nod hesitantly. Still not looking at Dick as you said, "Right. Okay. That… that makes sense, I guess," but your voice betrays you despite your best efforts as it wavered slightly. Still, you make sure to add, "but I still don't think it's the best to talk at my place."

Dick only gave a nod, saying, "Alright," and nothing else.

Your body refused to relax after that.

You still couldn’t shake the odd feeling you were getting from Dick, even if you couldn't exactly pinpoint what's wrong or where this feeling is coming from. The distant sounds of snaps, cracks, pops, and cut off shouts and screams in the distance didn't help much with that either. Especially when they weren't far, and sounded like they were only a few blocks away from you, with the distance slowly growing shorter each and every time a new sound echoed across Gotham. Especially when you realized that the snaps and cracks were the sounds of bones breaking, and the pops were joints getting dislocated. Which caused various memories to pop into your head that you tried to shove away.

Small beads of sweat began to roll down your neck. Your hands feel clammy, and you try to steady your breathing once you realize it was wavering again. You try to fix any outward reaction you notice you were displaying before Dick could catch on, fiddling with your sleeves as you try to reassure yourself.

You're going to be okay.

CRACK!

You're going to be fine.

SNAP!

You're going to make it through this.

POP!

You could tough it out.

"AAAHHH-!" CRUNCH.

This would all be over soon.

So, you try to ignore how the pit in your stomach continues to grow with each second that passes. How each sound causes you to tense, and sometimes jump the smallest bit, but you try to ignore that too. 

You glance over to Dick once again, only to catch him immediately turning to face forward. The detail made you pause and furrow your brows, had he been looking at you?

You shove the thought to the side and face forward again as well. A weight of some kind begins to form in your chest, yet you still try to push on and keep walking.

Seconds turn into minutes, and it's only now that you fully realized how long this short walk felt. The sidewalks stretched on, and the streets never seemed to end. The traffic lights felt like distant glimpses of life and civilization that one would catch in fog, with the small amount of cars on the road not helping with that feeling. Dark clouds begin to form overhead, and cover the inky black sky. With the full moon looking down at you. Its sight pinned on you, staring in silence.

Maybe that's why you were so relieved when the diner finally came into view, and you found yourself holding back a sigh of relief. You had to stop yourself from running over, and rushing inside so that you didn't have to walk beside Dick anymore. Further reminding yourself of how awkward this whole experience has been for you thus far. Which didn't help with how you are feeling at all.

"How do you like your coffee?" You decide to ask, seeing as the diner was only a few steps away at this point.

"What?" Dick asks, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he was in. With your question bringing him back to reality.

"Um, how do you like your coffee? Since, y'know. That's what we're here for?" You repeat, giving Dick a confused glance.

A look of realization flashed across Dick's face as a small 'ohh' left him. "Right, yeah. Uh," he stumbles at first before saying his preference, with you just nodding along.

"Okay, I'll just go inside and order so… you can just wait out here?" You said, unsure as you glance at the diner, only to look back at Dick.

"Yeah, I can do that." He agrees with a simple nod and small thumbs up. Making you nod as well as you took a breath.

"Right, okay. I'll just, um, head inside then." You exhale sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "It shouldn't take too long." You stop once you're in front of the door to the diner. Folding your hands into fists, squeezing your fingers and digging your nails into your palms, before releasing, letting your fingers relax, before repeating the process a few more times.

"Got it." Dick nods again, and you return the gesture as you open the door and step inside. Once again holding yourself back from letting out a sigh of relief, as you made your way over to the counter. A weight of some kind being lifted from your shoulders the moment the smell of food, and freshly brewed coffee hits you.

It's only when you reach the counter and see your friend did you finally sigh deeply, and heavily. You rest your arms against the counter and let your head hang low, a feeling of exhaust and fatigue slowly eating away at you. Not being in the immediate vicinity of Dick definitely made you feel exceptionally better, especially now that there’s a wall between you and him.

"Y'know, lots of people have been comin' in and sighing just like that, tonight." The waitress points out as she makes her way over to you. Her comment causing you to lift your head, and look at her. She gave you a little smile, amused by your antics, but you could see the little worry that hid behind her eyes. 

"Really?" You ask, allowing yourself to relax a little, now that you were in the presence of a friend. You didn't see Jessica outside of the diner much, but that was never a problem since you've been a regular for a while now. You had met when you first began coming to the diner late at night for coffee since you couldn't sleep, coming around just when the place was about to close. It was only after a few more nights passed that you both began to talk, and really connect. You like to consider her one of your closest friends because of all she's done for you, and not just because she knows how to make your coffee just the way you like it.

"Yeah, it's kinda weird but there's seems to be somethin' going on tonight. So I guess it makes sense." Jessica says with a shrug, "Anyway, you want the usual, I'm assuming?"

You perk up at that, "Wait, you think something's going on too?" You couldn't help but ask, though made sure to also say, "Oh, and that'd be great. But I'll… um, take it to go this time, and I'll have another coffee for my…" you glance over your shoulder and look at Dick. He had his back turned to the window, and looked to be talking to someone with what you assumed to be his comm link. 

You turn back to Jessica, a crooked smile on your face, "My acquaintance…?"

"I can't think of anyone who doesn't. Everyone can tell that something ain't right about tonight. Hell, even Jim looked bothered when he came in. I swore he was shakin' like a leaf, and looked like something was out to get him too." Jessica replies, writing down your order on her notepad mindlessly, already knowing it by heart. 

"Jim? Like the commissioner?"

"Nope, I'm talkin' about the guy who came in from Metropolis."

"Oh." You said, before slowly nodding as you thought about it, "I guess that makes sense. Though, I didn't think that guy had a single nervous bone in his body, to be honest."

"Well, y'know what they say; Gotham changes people. It can even make people like him, who're barely present with the rest of us, get a little shaken up every now and again." Jessica hums, looking at what she has written down for a moment.

"Right… yeah."

Jessica sighs softly, looking at you with unsaid care and concern before speaking up again, "Anyway, does your…" she drags out the 'r' as she glances behind you, before looking back at you. Waving her pen in the air as she gestures towards the window, "'acquaintance' want anything else?" 

"No, um. Just the coffee will do." You rub the back of your neck, making sure to mention how Dick said he likes his coffee. Jessica only gave a nod as she wrote it down.

"Alright, but I gotta ask. Is that guy bothering you?" Jessica asks as she starts to brew the coffee, shooting you a certain look, "I can get William to have a chat with 'im if he's causing you trouble. He won't like it, but he'll do it, y'know." 

The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, and try to adjust the smile on your face to look less obvious. As much as you don't want to be in this situation, you at least want to hear Dick out. If there's even the smallest chance that he really does need something from you — you want to help. You don't want to be the reason why whatever is going on is prolonged any further, or if a solution they have is delayed. 

Despite everything they've done to you, and the little they've given you throughout all of your life, you want to do this one last thing for them. That's all. 

You could afford to do this one last time, you thought as much anyway.

"I'm fine, he- he isn't bothering me… I promise." You try to reassure your friend, mustering the most convincing smile you could as you watch her work. She clearly knew what she was doing, since it looked as if it came so naturally to her, and you wouldn't be surprised if it did, with all she's told you in the past.

"Well, alright. But if he does anything you can always shoot me a text or give me a call. I can't do much myself, but I know people." 

You huff at her words, an easy smile making its way up your face as your shoulders relaxed, "I know. Thanks, Jess."

"Don't mention it. After all, I've gotta look out for the person who gives the best tips." She snickers, a smile of her own beginning to show itself. You can't help but laugh lightly as you just shake your head, and look away.

The soft tune of old melodies plays in the background, filling the space of the diner and washing away any awkwardness that may have been present otherwise. Some jazz begins to play, and you couldn’t help but tap your foot along with the rhythm, the voice of the singer taking all of your worries, and whisking them away. 

The other customers are quiet for the most part, but seem at ease for the time being. The outside world almost seemed so far away despite being just past the windows, but there was some peace to be had with that. The street lights gave off a homey feeling with their soft orange hues spilling into the diner, the quiet from the outside only making this place feel more safe, in a strange way.

"So it's just for the money, huh? And here I thought you genuinely cared about me." You chuckle, fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.

"Of course I do. But I'd like to see you work in customer service and living off of tips," Jessica chuckles as well, "Maybe then you'd see how that's just me appreciating you more, hon'."

You just shake your head, "Right, whatever you say."

"I'm being serious, Y/n. Even the boss appreciates you, and your wonderful donations." Jessica snickers, beginning to pour the coffee into two cups.

"You make it sound like he runs a charity, and I'm a big donor."

"Of course he does! Except, y'know. It isn't your typical charity, and we gotta work our asses off to ‘give back to the people’. With your money making up about… hm, seventy-five percent of my paycheck?" 

"Jess!"

"No, no. You're right, it's more like eighty-three. Maybe even eighty-five at a push." She laughs, giggling at the expression you make as you huff, before laughing a bit yourself.

You both continue to joke lightly, laughs and giggles being shared as Jessica makes your order, and you patiently wait. A light, soft sort of smile resting on your face, and you almost forget what had made you so tense in the first place. Which was one of the reasons you love this diner so much — it felt like a home away from home, even if it was only a few blocks away from your apartment. Jessica just added onto that comfortable vibe you got from this place, and your mind always felt so quiet when you're here.

It almost made everything feel like it'd be okay, and that as long as you remain inside, nothing bad could happen to you.

Unfortunately, it was only that. A feeling, and nothing more. Your current situation only made that detail all the more apparent.

"Welp, here you go. They're both hot and ready, so be careful, okay?" She smiles down at you before snickering, "Though you don't gotta tell the guy that if you don't want to." 

You're confused for a moment, not entirely sure who Jessica was talking about until it suddenly hit you. Right, Dick.

You laugh along, but it wasn't as genuine as it was before, and died down much quicker. As if scared that he'd hear both of you from past the window now. The thought alone made you suddenly hyper-aware of his presence outside. "Right, yeah.."

Grabbing the two cups, you slide them towards yourself and stare down at them for a moment, finding yourself hesitating again. You don't know why you were taking so many pauses, but this whole thing just didn't feel right to you. Though you couldn't exactly pinpoint why, you knew the reason was different than why you were so awkward around Dick, and reluctant to talk to him.

"... Are you sure that guy isn't bothering you?" Jessica asks again, leaning against the counter as she places a hand over one of yours. You couldn't meet her eyes, knowing that if you did it'd just make things harder for yourself. So you look off to the side, unsure.

"Yeah!… He's just.. yeah." Was all you could really say. You don't want to say anything that would make Jessica worry more, but most importantly, you don't want to make it harder for yourself to leave. You got this far, would it really be alright if you leave now? If you took back the words you said, and just went back home? Probably not.

You hear Jessica sigh, causing your heart to feel heavier in your chest. "Look, I get it if you don't want me to get someone to handle him, but if you don't want to stick around, and don't want him to see- I can let you out the back." She offers, giving your hand a small squeeze. Trying to reassure you, and give you something to work with.

You perk up at her offer, looking back up at her in slight surprise, "Really?" You ask. The sense of hope and relief that washed over you didn't make you feel any better, and only furthered the conflict going on in your mind.

"Yeah. Especially if it'll get you away from that weirdo." She chuckles with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You think about it for a moment, just looking at Jessica as countless thoughts rush through your head. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why are you making this so hard for yourself? The choice is so simple, so easy, and yet you just couldn't take it, but why?

You look back at Dick, and make eye contact.

You both stand there, staring at each other for a while, and the music playing in the diner suddenly didn't feel so comforting anymore. Your shoulders lost their weightlessness, and gravity seemed eager to try and pull you down to the floor.

Dick is the first to look away, presumably resuming his conversation with whoever he's been talking to this entire time, but you didn't. You don't.

Turmoil and conflict is clear in your eyes. You could see it through your faint reflection in the glass of the window that separates you and Dick. Which, from that alone, you begin to feel worse.

Even if you did leave, would that change anything? Would you be able to actually leave Dick? Or would he catch on? They already know where you live, and even if you managed to fool Dick momentarily, you doubt that he believes your little lie now if he is talking to the others. Yet if you went back to him, what would happen? Where would you both end up going?

You look back down at the two coffees, and sigh. Either way, you’re faced with uncertainty. If you left now, there's no telling if you'd actually be able to get away. Yet if you went back to Dick, you couldn't even imagine what would happen next. It felt like you were stuck in a lose-lose situation; having to pick between two different types of poison, and deal with whatever consequences that came with the kind you chose.

Holding the cups a little tighter, you think it over for another moment before shaking your head. Taking in a breath, and letting yourself calm down a bit.

"I think I'll be okay, but thanks for the offer, Jess." You gave her a little, appreciative smile, "I'll just message or call you if anything happens, like you said." Jessica didn't seem entirely sure of your decision, but nods anyway.

"Well, if you're sure, then alright. But the moment shit goes south, you know who to call."

You nod, and give her a small ‘thank you’ as you paid and left. Taking the drinks with you as you did so, the warmth of the diner slowly leaving you, and now being replaced with the cold breeze of the night.

"Sorry that took so long, I would've told you otherwise if I had known." You apologize as you turn to Dick, flinching at his close proximity. Since, you didn't realize just how close he had been standing to the door until now.

"It's no big deal! Besides, it didn't take that long." Dick said, dismissing your apology as he kept up that smile of his. You only nod, handing him his coffee, which he gladly took.

"If you say so.." You glance off to the side again, remaining quiet for a moment before looking back at Dick, "You were talking to the others, I assume?" You decide to ask, not exactly sure if you should've said anything, but you didn't see the harm in doing so at the moment.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I uh, I was." Dick confirms with a small, awkward nod.

"Is… everything okay?" 

"Yep! Things are going well. Great, even!"

"Oh. Alright then."

Another beat of silence passed over both of you.

You clutch the cup in your hands, its heat pinching and nibbling at your skin through the sleeve. You took a glance inside the diner, and noticed that while Jessica is doing her job, she's still shooting looks and glances your way past the window. She furrows her brows as you both made eye contact, and you could tell what she was going to do just from that alone.

You shake your head, and play it off as if you were just pushing a thought away once you look back at Dick, shoulders rising and almost locking into place as you try to stop your smile from dropping. Holding it at just the right height, and making sure it didn't look too crooked.

"So, um. How about we walk and talk? Just so that we're doing something instead of just standing around- y'know?" You suggest, a wry chuckle escaping you as your eyes wander off again.

"Sure, yeah! We can do that," Dick nods along, and you give a curt nod in return.

"Great!" You begin to walk off, only to be stopped by Dick as he grabs your sleeve, causing you to flinch a little bit. Whipping your head around to look back at him, your heart stopping for a moment as something flashed in your eyes, before it quickly disappeared.

For a split second, you look at Dick as if he was about to kill you, or something similar to that. Like he was going to hurt you in some unimaginable way by just trying to grab your attention.

Though Dick just pushed that little detail to the side, he couldn't help but keep it in mind. He didn't want to think about what it could mean, but couldn't forget it either. Since no matter how quick it was, or how short it lasted, just seeing that expression on your face and directed towards him — it hurt worse than any injury he could possibly receive in any shape or form.

He didn't want to believe what seemed to be the undeniable truth.

So, instead, he tucked it away in the back of his mind. Still managing some kind of smile as he looks at you, hiding behind a face of confusion.

"Isn't your place back that way?" Dick asks, gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. He notices how you swallowed — taking note of how nervous and on edge you seem to be. He's known since he first saw you, but he didn't think anything of it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want it to mean anything.

So he ignores it. Pushing it away until he can't see it anymore, despite it being so clear and right in front of his face. 

He prays to every god he knows, and hopes to every heaven he's aware of — blind and ignorant to the fact that they have long since shut him out. The light and grace they'd give, forever out of his reach.

His little wishes couldn't help him now. Not when they never helped you.

"I-" You couldn't help but sigh, shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, before speaking again, "I already said that I don't think that it's a good idea to talk there, Dick. And I don't think it's smart to have this conversation here either- so let's just walk as we try to figure this out. Please?" Your weak smile begins to strain as you take a step back, grabbing Dick's hand and tugging him toward you. You hope he'll listen, if only this one time.

Dick looks to the side, unsure as he weighs his options before looking back at you, and suddenly he's hit with all the convincing he needed.

You look at him pleadingly, almost silently begging for him to comply and just come along with you. The moon, albeit partially covered thanks to the dark clouds passing overhead, lit up your eyes in such a way that further emphasized the emotions you were feeling, but left unsaid. How the internal conflict and struggle you were experiencing, made the color in your irises shine that much brighter, and how such a little thing took Dick's breath away. 

Suddenly, for a moment, he realizes how soft your hand was in his, despite the fabric of his glove in between them. Even if it is just for that split second, he can't help but… love it. Love you. So how can he say no? How could he say no when he's slowly beginning to see all of these little things about you in a different way? When his guilt was slowly shifting to something else? Something worth trying for?

How can he deny such a little request from his little sibling? Especially when you look at him like that? He can't. So he didn't. Unable to stop the soft but partially happy smile that grew on his face.

You found it uncanny and misplaced, but he found it fitting and refreshing in a way. A way he hadn't felt before — not in a while, anyway.

"Sure, alright. Let's get going then!" Dick replies after a second of silence had passed, holding onto your hand and walking beside you when you began to move again. 

You didn't say anything this time, just nodding as you focused on walking away from the diner.

Yet, Dick couldn't help but look back at the establishment. Curious as to why you wanted to move on from it so quickly, and wanted to see if he could catch anything in particular that might've caused it. Not that Dick was complaining by any means, but he couldn't help his own curiosity.

It was then that Dick and the waitress from inside the diner made eye contact. Causing Dick to narrow his eyes, and the waitress doing the same back with a certain look in her eyes.

He didn't like it, and even if the impression he's getting was far off the mark, he didn't care enough to change it.

Yet, when you and Dick pass the diner, your phone suddenly vibrates. 

Oblivious to how Dick's gaze lingered on the diner for a little while longer — or how he was even looking back at all — you fish your phone out of your pocket once you shake Dick’s hand off mindlessly, not thinking too much about the action as you check your notifications.

There, you saw that Jessica had left you a message.

['Be careful with that one. I'd watch your back if I were you, hon.']

You were confused to say the least, but before you could think to respond, Dick turned back to you and suddenly spoke. Smile ever present, eyes trained on you.

"So, where are we going?" 

"Oh- um, I'm not entirely sure." You admit, pocketing your phone quickly without much thought. Hoping Dick didn't see what the text said, but you didn't count on it. Not much slipped past him or the others in any given situation, not unless it was something dealing with you. Though, with his attention on you now? You couldn't be too sure of what he would and wouldn't notice. Not anymore.

After all, just knowing that he could see you now, and is actually talking with you, along with the fact that you've been in his space for over a minute was… a new experience. You didn't think you'd get this far — you never have before, and so this was all new territory for you. All you knew, and could gather from how things were going thus far, was that slipping away wouldn't be as easy as it was before. Not with his eyes trained on you like they were now.

"Well, that's fine but we still shouldn't stay out for long. It isn't safe." Dick pointed out again, causing you to sigh and nod your head.

"I know, but I still-" you cut yourself off, and took a quick breath before continuing, "it doesn't feel right going back to my place. Besides, not many people are out tonight… and as weird as that is- at least not many people will be around to eavesdrop on our conversation, if we did talk out here." You said, shrugging your shoulders, and taking a slow but small sip of your coffee. It burned your tongue, but at least it gave you something else to think about.

"That doesn't exactly make Gotham any less dangerous, and besides- those who are walking around, and are still out and about, could be from a worse crowd. You should know that, Y/n." Again, you didn't appreciate how he spoke to you like that. Talking as if you were ignorant to that possibility, or just generally unaware that Gotham was a bad place filled with even worse people. 

"I do, I'm just saying-" you try to defend yourself, looking at Dick before immediately looking away. You don't like how he looked at you, and how much taller it made him appear, "Gotham isn't just filled with criminals, and besides… most people look like they're rushing to get home anyway." You comment, noticing how a group of people — presumably friends or roommates, maybe even 'coworkers' to a certain degree — rushed inside what appeared to be an apartment building. Along with how a family quickly got inside of their house, ushering their kids inside before hurriedly closing the door behind them. 

"It's like some kind of apocalypse is going on…" You mutter, narrowing your eyes at the sight, before just focusing your attention back on the sidewalk ahead of you. You didn't recall getting a memo of any kind, or an alert if something like that was really going on. Though, your best bet to figuring anything out was unfortunately through Dick, by the looks of things.

Dick rubs the back of his neck, a strange feeling of nervousness, and something close to embarrassment, radiating off of him as he chuckled. The strange detail caught your attention, causing you to look at him and notice that his smile had become uneven, before he fixed it when he noticed you were looking. 

You couldn't help but raise a brow, silently questioning Dick with your eyes, a small hint of suspicion growing behind your gaze.

Dick just shrugs, fixing himself the very next moment, which only causes you to narrow your eyes. Were they actually causing some kind of apocalypse? Surely not… right?

"Then that's just all the more reason why we should head inside too." Dick said, giving your hand a soft squeeze. Forcing you to acknowledge that you were holding hands once again – but when did he grab it? You don’t remember feeling him hold it again until now… but that wasn’t important, not now anyway, "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Y/n. I'm just worried." 

You grew quiet at that, a mix of emotions beginning to swirl around in your chest before you just shove it to the side. You couldn't tell if he was joking or trying to be genuine….

Though, your heart and mind seemed to agree that he wasn't being serious, and maybe that's why you didn't like how he looked at you.

Taking your hand back once again, you shook your head dismissively, "You're a vigilante, right? One of Gotham's finest, and looking over Bludhaven at that- if anything happens I'm sure you can handle it." Huffing, you add, "Even then, I can handle myself."

Dick's eyes linger on you for a little longer. The hand that had been holding yours twitched, and he kept it there for a second before letting it drop to his side, his smile beginning to die down before he sighed. "Still, I think it'd be better if we tried to avoid something like that all together."

"I think it'd also be better if we could avoid something like that happening at my place."

"It won't, not with me around."

"So now you're confident that nothing will happen?" You laugh lightly, more air escaping you above all else, and disbelief clear in your eyes and tone. "You can't be sure. Someone could follow us there and find out where I live."

You snicker again, not fully believing that you were actually having to tell Dick all of this, "I mean, it might not matter much to you but-"

"It does matter to me. I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone else to come after you." He took another breath, and you bite your tongue. Reframing from mentioning how it was a little too late to be saying that now. "Look, I understand if you don't want to go back to where you're staying, but if that's the case then we can just got to the-"

"No." You speak up before he could even finish. Already knowing what he was going to say, and the mere thought of going back to that place made you feel uneasy. Causing you to clutch your cup with both of your hands, barely registering its heat.

"I didn't even get to say where…" Dick sighs again, just pushing the detail to the side for the moment, "Can you at least tell me why? I don't see why we shouldn't."

"It just-" You didn't want to say it outloud. Not out here. Not with him around, and listening to every word that fell out of your mouth. "I just don't think that's smart either. Again, someone could follow us back there and find out about… you know."

"Well, then someone else could just take you back-"

"Wouldn't that seem suspicious if someone saw, though?" 

"Now you're worried about being seen?"

"Like you weren't before-"

"Y/n, please. We can't just stand around here and talk about stuff all night. Either way, we have to go somewhere." Dick tries to reason, adding on, "Look, if you don't want to go to your place or the 'other' place, how about we just-"

"No."

"I didn't even get to finish!"

"I know what you were about to say, and just-" You took a breath of your own, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as your hands began to shake a little bit. Your nerves were getting to you. You could feel it with how your chest became heavier, and how it was getting progressively harder to continue walking — as if your feet were slowly sinking into the cement below you.

"I don't think it'd be the best to go there either." You mutter, looking off to the side.

"Why? I can sort of understand the 'other' place-" he didn't, but in his attempt to get through to you, he said otherwise, "but why not there? Again, we can't just wander around all night and talk out in the open like this, Y/n. You should know better than that." Dick states, furrowing his brows as his gaze remains pinned on you, never once looking away.

You wish he would. By the Gods did you wish he would look away just once. Yet such a blessing had yet to be given, if it would ever come.

With every second that passed, your doubt only grew.

"I just don't see why we can't go to any other places? Somewhere that isn't personal, or technically considered to be personal since it could reveal your identity and such- and I don't think I have to give reasons why someone knowing where I live, or used to live, would be bad too- but… yeah. Just-" You gather your thoughts, looking down at your cup of coffee for a brief moment, "Just somewhere that isn't necessarily connected to either of us, or could reveal potentially personal or sensitive information on one or both of us? Like the park, or some random rooftop…? You guys still have talks up there, right?" You manage to slide in a little joke, but the laugh you gave is more awkward and nervous than anything, so you just clear your throat and continue.

"Or- or just an abandoned building or something? If you still really want us to be inside? Since Gotham has some of those… maybe too many of them- but that's besides the point." You try to suggest, hesitant to even say anything but managing somehow regardless.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Dick – so you missed how his brows creased, and his smile was just barely holding up. His hand twitches again, but he tries to stay mindful of the coffee he's still holding.

"Are you serious?" His tone made you press your lips into a thin line. Your nails begin to dig into the sleeve of your cup. "I get that you're paranoid, but are you serious right now? Y/n, c'mon." An odd warmth began to bloom in your chest at Dick's words. It was far from pleasant, and lit like a match, with the flame itself bursting to life. It started much larger than you were used to, and controlling it was more difficult than you expected.

"I'm just saying…" 

"Saying… what? That we either stay out in the open where anything can happen, or a clearly dangerous place where we're most likely going to get jumped? 'Cause if that's what you're saying, then I don't even know what to say, Y/n." Dick really can't believe you right now. Just how long have you been living in Gotham, exactly? Who were you even living with? He couldn't understand what you were thinking suggesting such a thing.

He had a feeling you may have been unaware of the true dangers of Gotham, since he and the others had kept you away from such things – from what he could tell. Not to mention that you didn't have any intention of becoming a vigilante yourself, from what he remembered, but for you to turn out like this? He had no idea you were so oblivious, and if he had before, he never would've let you out of that apartment building. He never should've to begin with, clearly.

"No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!" You couldn't help but yelp in surprise, finally looking at Dick as you held your coffee closer to your chest. You felt offended that he honestly thought you'd think something so stupid, but you didn't know what was worse. How he didn't seem convinced, or how he looked as if he believed himself more than you.

"Then…?" Dick drags on, gesturing for you to give an explanation. Almost daring you to say something that proved him wrong, or went against his point. 

You huff harshly, the warmth in your chest beginning to turn hot as you went on to say, "I'm just saying why can't we go anywhere else, that isn't technically connected to you or me in some way?"

"... And your solution to that is to go to a public area, stay out in the open but on the rooftops, or go to one of the abandoned places around Gotham where something bad will definitely happen?" Dick rose a brow, with you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. Instead, you manage a sigh – smile long gone from your face.

"Those were just examples, Nightwing." You hold back a scoff, clutching your cup a little tighter, "We don't actually have to go to any of those places, or do those things. I was just trying to suggest ideas, not say; 'Hey, we should go to that one place by the bay that's been abandoned for around five years and have our talk there. Since surely nothing will happen, and a gang totally doesn't hang around that area.' Or something like that." 

"That's oddly specific," Dick gave you a questionable look before shaking his head, "but still. Those places and areas aren't safe. At least the places I suggested are, and if something happens, then there's security measures in place for that."

"How do you know if my place is secure or not?"

"Are you trying to say that it isn't?"

"No- but it's not like I have a super complicated system or hypersensitive security like- y'know. The other places. So what would make my place so safe?"

Dick sighs, "Fine. Alright, maybe your place isn't our safest bet right now. Even if I feel like I can definitely handle protecting a single apartment." You didn't even bother to say anything, just rolling your eyes and shaking your head instead.

"I don't want anything to happen to my place, Nightwing." 

"You really don't think I can't defend one room?"

"I don't live alone, D- Nightwing. I don't just have myself or my things to worry about." You couldn't help but say, scoffing under your breath. However, Dick could only blink, a little confused.

"You… have a roommate?" 

"Yeah? Who do you think I was referring to when I said I was visiting a friend?"

"Oh! I thought that was a complete lie. I guess that makes sense, but why would you need a roommate anyway? Does your job not make enough money or-"

"Does that really matter right now?" You gave Dick a pointed look, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject, "We're trying to find out what the fuck to do, not delve into my personal life." 

"Alright, fine- no need to get all worked up." Dick put his free hand up to show that he wasn't trying to start anything, and was trying to keep this peaceful and civil, "But why don't we just go to one of the other two areas? They're secure, and I'm sure your friend won't get hurt if something ends up happening while we're there."

You open your mouth to say something, only to shut it and look away. You clutch your cup a little tighter.

How could you tell Dick that you just don't want to be in the manor again, and that you didn't want to go back — without actually having to tell him? How do you tell Dick that you don't feel comfortable being in a space where you knew the rest of them would be, and that you'd rather have to just deal with him than anyone else? That you had a bad feeling about going to any of those places with him, and you don't trust him or the others at all?

You'd rather avoid going to the manor if you could help it, and you had more than enough reasons for feeling that way. Though, would Dick understand? Would he accept your reasons, and see why you wanted to go somewhere else? Maybe not, and even if he did understand, there was no guarantee that he would value your personal comfort over your 'safety'. There was no guarantee that he still wouldn't try and get you to agree with him. 

You also wanted to avoid going to the clock tower. Seeing as just dealing with Dick was… difficult, to say the least, and if you could barely handle one — you couldn't imagine what it'd be like to handle another. Since there was bound to at least be someone else at the tower, just waiting for you to arrive. 

The thought alone made you feel uneasy.

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

[Chapter 3, part 2]

[loriache]

Butch up that Elf: my Marcille manifesto

TBQH, this came into being because the Falin "dragoness" fanart rewired my brain completely. It's sillytimes, but we're going to make a serious argument: trying out being a little butch would Fix Her.

1. Marcille Gender Discomfort

Now, Marcille LOVES feminity. She loves playing dressup, she loves elaborate gowns, she spends her free time going to the spa - the absolute last thing I want is to deny that. However, there's also a definite vibe that this isn't just a preference. Specifically, the way that she pushes Falin towards femininity suggests that she isn't comfortable with gender nonconformity in the people around her.

If this was something she was 100% confident about ("I'm doing this for myself and nobody else!") surely what other people do wouldn't be a big deal? Of course, you can read this as a little bit of solipsism; "what works for me must work for you too! I think this is so cute and would suit you - wouldn't you agree?"

But for the sake of this argument, all I'm trying to suggest is that gender nonconformity (and probably sexual nonconformity... well, frankly, any kind of sexuality at all) is unlikely to be something that's on Marcille's "radar". She hasn't tried out other ways of presenting and decided she doesn't like them. I do think she'd be a very flamboyant butch - "ouji lolita" vibes, you know? It's a whole new set of wardrobe options she could play dress-up in, even.

After the story ends, she starts dressing like her mother in all black, which makes sense - her mother was also a court magician, so she's probably emulating her in order to project confidence and authority. But I can't say I think she should stick with this. Break away and be your own person, Marcille! Try a fancy waistcoat and frilled jacket!

2. Haircut

This is another potential hard sell, I'm sure. The people she loves doing her hair is a cute symbol of their care for her, and her hair is key to her magic - so there's plenty of reason for her to keep it long. But like... think practically. Having someone do your hair every morning, for the whole of her long life, while it gets messier over the day (because she can't remember to keep it neat)... That's got to be such a pain. My hair gets messy when I put a hoodie on. And I have short hair.

It would require her to go through a change of mind, and probably a little more growth in how secure she feels in her relationships, but - the hairdo's a symbol. The more important thing is the relationships themselves. Eventually I think there might be something liberating about cutting it off, even if she might eventually decide to grow it out again.

The lion, her trauma, took something away from her which was really important to her. The people around her are able to make that easier, and make up for it, and soften that loss, but... Mithrun isn't the person he was before, you know? He's a new person. The relationship he has with his brother is new, and I don't know if it's one that the person he was before could have had. If Falin hadn't died, they wouldn't have gone on that wonderful adventure! They wouldn't have met Senshi or saved Izutsumi and Laios and Marcille wouldn't have gotten so close. So I think it's totally congruent with the themes of the story that the burning away of this part of Marcille's self might eventually create the potential for new growth in a new direction, not clinging onto the parts that are gone.

This also isn't totally out of the norm for elven mages - both Otta and Flamela have short hair. Otta is canonically butch, and potentially Flamela reads that way to elves too, but the point is it clearly is possible to be an accomplished mage without long hair.

3. Desiring (to be) a chivalrous prince

Marcille's succubus is clearly General Halleus from her favourite book series, the Daltian Clan. The fact that this is her ideal man.... it certainly plays into readings of her as Not Straight. But at least, this conveys the way her conception of sex and romance is strongly idealised, dissociated from the bodily and from physical desire.

There are many ways to interpret that, including thinking about what types of desire this fixation is obstructing because she is not comfortable with it, but I am going to focus here on what this desire does signify. She likes the trappings of courtly romance, and is clearly comfortable putting herself in the role of the princess, being taken away on a white horse by a noble (but tormented; eyepatch has "death" on it lmao) prince. (Though I think he's actually the token male lead who isn't royalty; he's a General. There's always one in Romfan, lmao. IYKYK)

A kiss on the hand - this is so chaste, I think it's clear it's more about desire to play a role in a dynamic than it is about desire in a physical sense. There is undoubtedly a big part of Marcille that wants to be a beloved and chased-after princess, but I think it isn't at all impossible that she'd also enjoy being the powerful, cool, and chivalrous "prince" to someone (a pretty girl, perhaps) who needs her protection.

This is a little silly, because it's clearly just aping the shoujo artstyle that articulates basically the same idea as her succubus, that Marcille is attached to highly abstracted and idealised romantic (and Romantic) tropes and ideas. But the imaginary "successful" Marcille from chapter 4 looks quite similar to her succubus. (Another thing I noticed is that in the fantasy she has sharp ears... like full elves have. Despite what she says, I think the cultural messaging that this trait is "attractive" and hers are inferior got to her at least a bit. 😥)

Also, the way that she treats Falin, scolding her indulgently, trying to look after her and wanting to be looked up to and respected by her... that aligns more with the "masculine" role in the trope that her succubus is referencing. "What are we going to do with you...?" I can imagine her saying this to Falin, word for word. Whereas, if anyone real started talking down to her, even affectionately, I don't think she'd like it, given the negative way she reacts when people don't respect her or her skills. Especially after canon, given the way the Winged Lion was treating her.

Her attitude to Falin is partially down to her reluctance to acknowledge Falin as an adult, who is independent and can grow beyond her and leave her behind. But I think even as they move on from that unhealthy dynamic, Marcille is still going to get pleasure from feeling capable, reliable, able to look after and protect Falin. She'd like to pull the chair out for her in a restaurant on a date, you know?

4. Conclusion

Even after the growth she goes through during the story, there are parts of Marcille's character that are very much obstructed. Romance, sexuality, and gender, feel like one of those to me. The way that her discomfort with the messy origins of food betrayed a deeper, more significant discomfort with the cycles of life and death.

Much in the same way, I'd argue that the simplified, idealistic, and safely fantastical way that she views romance, as well as her very "safe" gender presentation and tendency to push it onto others as well, suggest an underlying discomfort in her own gender and sexuality. The character growth she goes through leaves her in a place where it may be possible to safely re-evaluate her relationship with Falin, as well as her choice of clothing and hairstyle, both things that go through a change at the end of the manga. Neither, I think, reach a sustainable stopping point that we see - there will be a point when it's more servants doing her hair than friends, just out of practicality, because they're all going to be so, so busy. The black clothing to copy her mum is cute, but once she gets some more self-confidence in her own skills as a court magician, I think she'll move on from it. And... who knows what direction her relationship with Falin will develop, over the years? I'm rooting for them, anyway.

In all those cases, I think moving outside of the things she's done before, into something really different from the things that are "safe" and expected, will be the most rewarding path for her. Like in the dungeon, things that she would initially reject were actually able to sustain her and broaden her tastes. She loves dressing up, looking after people, and "princely romance". So I say: Butch Marcille! It'll be good for her!!

[deadend-if]

DEMO TBA | INFO | 17+

You know of the whole "death comes for us all" concept, you know that freak accidents can happen to anyone, and you know there is a reaper around every corner... You just didn't think it was so literal. When death themself comes walking through your apartment complex, you don't even notice. You do, however, perk up at the sound of a knock on your door. Upon opening, death greets you with a panicked wave and the information that your best friend has died fifteen minutes prior to their visit. Now, usually, you would ignore the lunatics in your city claiming to be death itself, but something tells you to listen this time. It might be the frantic way they describe owing your roommate a favor, or, funnily enough, the way they don't breathe, but you believe them. So, despite all the dangers of following a stranger to a second location, you're sure of one thing; you intend to bring your friend back to life.

This IF is written in twine and will be posted on itch.io. It is currently a work in progress. Advice is appreciated due to this being my first attempt at something like this <3

Travel to the land of the dead to find a way to save your best friend from an early grave, discussing themes of loss, change, and humanity along the way!

Play as a fully customizable character, choose your character's name, pronouns/gender, sexuality, appearance, college degree, and more!

Travel through the underworld and explore the vast layers the city of the dead has to offer.

Determine how you traverse loss and all the things that come with it. Either ignore or come to terms with what might happen at the end of it all.

Build a relationship with 1 of 4 character options (or 1 of 2(?) poly options!), two gender selectable, and two set genders (non-binary spectrum). (Play as aro, gay, straight, bi, trans, etc. Platonic relationships will be just as important in this game!)

This game is for 17 and up. There will be NO sexual themes, but there will be heavy topics, explicit language, and graphic descriptions of death. More Content Warnings will be listed in the demo.

The Best Friend | Abel/Abella Robinson [he/him or she/her] - RO

Your best friend since freshman year of college, once random strangers sharing a dorm, now living together of your own free will. A is an elementary school teacher with a calm, gentle heart. They are a bit of a doormat but are kind despite the world being cruel. For years they have been a loyal friend and helped you whenever you needed it, now it's time to help them escape the clutches of death.

The Guilty Reaper | Mortimer/Mort/Mortie [any pronouns] - RO

Mortimer has your best interests in mind, at least that's why they tell you when they pop up at your doorstep with tickets to the underworld. Being out of touch with humanity is supposed to be an asset for reapers, but Mortimer has always wanted to know everything there is to know about humanity. Can you even believe someone like them? Mort seems a little too honest, and a little too curious, but they're the only tour guide for the underworld that you know of.

Your Best Friend's Best Friend | Santiago/Santiana Vega [he/him or she/her] - RO

You know A has other friends, but what you don't know is why they hate you so much. Santi has never liked you, not four years ago, not today. They are sarcastic and confident. They will always take the opportunity to outshine you, it's hard to understand why someone like A would even tolerate being around them. Whether you like it or not, they're still A's other best friend and are just as determined to get them back safe and sound... Even if it means having to do it with you.

The Guard | Kyo [he/they] - RO

A (begrudging) friend of Mort and one of many guards of the underworld. They're a mystery to you and even to their closest friend. Kyo doesn't speak much. They are blunt, easily annoyed, and strictly there to keep an eye on everyone. He prefers to follow the rules and stay under the radar, especially since he seems to have something to lose. They seem to only tag along to keep Mort out of trouble, but there has to be something more to their goals. Why else would they risk so much for people they don't know?

Poly Options <3

A & S K & M (A secret third option, perchance?)

DEMO TBA | INFO

[harrietvane]

So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.

Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.

Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.

So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:

-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.

-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.

-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.

-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.

Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.

There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.

[anna-proxx]

pretty please can we have arthur morgan falling in love with hyperfem! reader? ur stuff is always so so yummy,, no pressure ofc! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

⭒✧⋆｡guns n' bows ✧⋆｡⭒

pairing: Arthur Morgan x hyperfem!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst (good ending)

summary: Arthur finds himself adoring a dainty woman who joined the gang a while ago. It suddenly becomes clear to him he has fallen in love.

word count: 3294

tags: high honor arthur, fem!reader, (mutual) pining, arthur being a sweetheart

a/n: thank u so much, dolly! i had a few ideas on how to approach this and decided to make it more story-based and focus on arthur's inner process as he realizes he's in love with the reader (as i would imagine it to go). if you'd like something a bit different, lmk! i've been wanting to write a hyperfem fic for a while now, so i had fun with it. also, i'm thinking about writing a pt. 2 where i'd focus more on the reader's pov and have arthur express his feelings more (be a cutie around her) and confess his love. <3

dividers by @saradika / @saradika-graphics

✮ masterlist

Arthur Morgan wasn't used to being gentle with people. His hands were rough and calloused and his muscle memory trained to draw his guns and shoot. They were meant to be a weapon, to protect and harm for the people he considered his family.

Perhaps he had it in him, but there was no reason to be soft and gentle – the world was just as rough as him and he was assigned the burden of fighting against it. The softest he could get was between the pages of his journal as he wrote about his thoughts and sketched owls and beavers and when he patted dogs and talked to his horse.

But most of those were away from prying eyes and frankly, the role of a dense criminal prized for his brawn comfortably fit around his overlooked qualities, as that was all he needed to be. To survive, to fulfill his role.

And yet you saw right through it. Of course you did, you had a good heart, open to whoever you saw goodness in. While some might write Arthur off as a rugged criminal only, you noticed his edges weren't as sharp as he tried making them seem to be.

His duties were violent, sometimes brutal, the earth soaking up blood of his enemies and his image reflecting in their eyes as the last thing before they closed them forever. To some, he was their biggest nightmare. He wasn't a good man, to believe so would be naive and foolish, but he wasn't all bad either, as some would think.

Your heart was big enough to accept his sins and leave the judgment to whatever was above, meanwhile you sought his presence as it brought you a strangely warm sense of security and comfort. Like moth to a flame, his different nature allured you. Hardened on the outside and soft-hearted on the inside.

Perhaps that was the reason you found yourself liking this big outlaw. Scooted towards him at the campfire, or sat nearby and watched him as he lied on his cot and scribbled something into his journal.

You might've been fragile and soft spoken, but you weren't stupid and your intuition on people was like a radar you could wholeheartedly trust. So you did.

Arthur didn't exactly know you sometimes looked for his presence, but he did notice you were comfortable around him.

It baffled him a little – you were so small compared to him, wearing lace and frills and cute little bows in your hair and yet you didn't seem to be intimidated by his appearance or demeanor at all. It sparked joy inside of him whenever you'd come to him blabbering about the rainbow you saw or gave him a soft smile as your eyes met.

You never treated him with judgment or revulsion, despite knowing very well your morals were against everything he was doing. Just how big of a sweetheart were you to do that? He never said it, but it meant a lot to him.

He felt as though you weren't even a part of all this. You were like a gem among roughened stones or a flower growing in gravel, reading in your tent and braiding your horse's mane while he washed blood off his hands.

And truth be told, because of that, he found you to be soothing and healing for his battered soul. It was so different, to be around someone like you.

You brought out a side of him he didn't know he had, one that was more tender than he was used to be. He didn't feel so angry or cynical, even after a job gone wrong. When he was with you, being gentle was easy.

At the beginning, when you first fell with the gang, it was doubt and hesitation he felt towards you. You were so... untouched by the world's cruelty, so innocent and open-hearted.

Arthur assumed you were naive and feeble, not only in the physical sense but mental as well. The world posed a huge threat to someone like you and he was worried you wouldn't survive in such circumstances. He was convinced you'd run after a few weeks but you did no such thing.

As the months passed, you stayed with the gang, patient and resilient while remaining soft and feminine. You helped where you could and offered a listening ear to anyone who needed it; even managed to get Arthur to open up to you when you two were alone. And you barely ever complained, even ate all Pearson's stews though you must've been used to eating fine food. And you lit up the space wherever you went. Your optimism was invincible. How the hell were you managing to do that?

It dawned on him he must've terribly underestimated you and his doubtfulness turned into admiration and intrigue. You were one fascinating little thing.

Things have been going quite downhill, so he kept checking up on you and you always had a warm smile to offer. You were still sweet and charming, even with the law on your tail.

You were his polar opposite, gentle waves of the sea splashing against hard rocks hot from the sun. Soft clouds concealing the sky after a raging storm. A calm rain on a hot summer day.

Arthur had no intentions of falling in love ever again.

But his heart was a sneaky little traitor.

Dusk softly illuminated the lake's surface when he found you sitting on the pier, your feet splashing in the water. You put your shoes beside you and held the skirt of your dress at your knees to avoid getting it wet. It was your favorite, white and pink, the corset decorated with little bows at the front. Your locks curled loosely over your shoulders, a light pink bow tying some of it at the back of your head.

You looked so vulnerable and cute lost in your thoughts like this, your feet creating creases in the water as you idly watched them. You had no company with you, only a couple of ducks swimming nearby and butterflies fluttering their wings around your head.

Arthur wondered what your mind was occupied with and before he could properly think it through, his steps directed towards your small frame lit by warm light.

You were pondering on the events of the past few weeks when the heavy steps on the wooden planks caught your attention. Turning your head to look up at the person coming, your eyes lit up as you saw it was your favorite one.

"Arthur!" you called out, your big doe eyes digging a pit in Arthur's stomach.

"[Name]. How are you?" His gaze lingered on you as he stood before you, his hands placed on the gun belt around his hips. You found the concern sweet. Instead of it being a casual phrase, his eyes studied you for an actual answer.

"Good, I think. What about you?" Your voice was smooth like honey and inviting, giving the outlaw something to lean into.

"'M alright," his voice rumbled as he shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Ya like this place?"

You shortly looked around, taking in the view of the trees and dim sky reflected back in the peaceful lake.

"I do, it's such a charming spot." You looked back into Arthur's face, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

"'M glad to hear that."

You could almost hear his goodbye that would follow but before he had the chance, you spoke.

"Come on, join me." You patted the spot next to you and slightly turned your body towards Arthur when he sat beside you.

Arthur was a bit at loss of words, always quick with his witty responses but uncertain around you. Your flowery perfume overcame him, then the sight of your rosy cheeks and full lips. You looked like a doll, looking at him through your long lashes with the most innocent look in your eyes.

For a moment your company made him forget about everything. He felt like just a man instead of a sinner, leaning into the silent acceptance you provided him.

You swung your feet in the water. "What did you do today?" you asked kindly, no trace of judgment.

Arthur sighed, recalling the day's events. "Robbed a stagecoach, had to shoot 'em guards. Met a few of the O'Driscoll boys too."

He wasn't one to sugarcoat things, especially when there was no reason to. You knew what kind of person he was and despite you never expressing disgust, he knew you must've had certain sentiments of him and they were all true. He was no better than the crooks he fought. And yet, with you, he wished he was.

Your gaze found his hand resting over his knee, barely dried blood on his knuckles.

"Oh, Arthur!" You took his hand in his, examining the damage with focus as you held his palm with both your hands, yours small in comparison to his.

Arthur's breath faltered in his throat. A lukewarm feeling settled in his chest and slight panic ran through his mind as he was slow to realize just what was happening. The warm touch of your smooth fingers was unusually intensive and he wished for the moment to never stop, as if he ever cared for such things.

He felt silly for it. What was happening with him? Why did he feel such fondness at your delicate hands cradling his, the slight blush on your cheeks, the flyaway hairs around your head?

He furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar tightness in his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat picking up on pace.

He hasn't felt this way ever since...

"Your poor knuckles," you mumbled while gently running your finger over the bruises. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen them healed."

Your tone was nothing but caring, as if Arthur hadn't used the fist to break someone's jaw. You put his hand away, putting yours in your lap as you continued bathing your feet in the water and watching the thoughtful look on Arthur's face as he softly looked at you.

Arthur cleared his throat, chasing all the crazy thoughts away. "And how's yer day been?"

You tactfully ignored the change of topic and played around with your necklace as you spoke. "Well, it was alright. I've been doing chores almost whole day, then went to Rhodes for some supplies with Tilly and Javier. He also taught me a bit of one Spanish song!"

Oh did he? A pang of jealousy struck him. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Arthur, everything okay?" you asked, your brow furrowed at the sight of his troubled expression.

"Sure, 'm... just tired, that's all."

You nodded, looking at the sky coloring itself in blueish grays. "Yeah, I might go to sleep earlier today as well, I reckon."

Pulling your feet out of the water, you started putting on your shoes while Arthur stood up, offering you a hand by the time you were done. You smiled up at him and accepted his hand, being effortlessly pulled up to your feet.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Your voice wouldn't leave his head, even after you walked towards your tent, disappearing from his sight. He walked to his own one in a trance, left with many unanswered questions in his head.

This wasn't like him, even less to be so confused by his feelings. And yet, as he lay in his cot that night, he kept going back to the moment at the lake, imagining what it would've felt like to brush his fingers through your soft hair or cup your cheek.

Another heavy sigh.

Only yesterday you were still just you. A kind girl they had rescued when she had nowhere else to go, a young woman who–

No, who was he kidding. The warning signs had been there long before; the warmth in his chest whenever he saw you, that little jump his heart did when you said his name, the joy he felt when you asked him for small favors.

It gnawed at him, the sense of knowing he tried pushing away.

He fell in love with you. Somewhere along the way, without taking notice. As complicated and messy it would make things, in a way, admitting to himself the feelings he had for you felt relieving.

How was he so stupid not to realize sooner?

He loved the way you got excited over making flower crowns and how you'd weave some for the girls. He loved when he saw you consoling and comforting Karen into putting the bottle away, or even being kind to that bastard Kieran. He loved when he found you playing with Jack, letting him put flowers in your hair. He loved your feminine gaze, the one that would capture all his attention, or how your kindness towards him made him feel. As if there was still hope for him, as if he wasn't damned after all.

But there was a tight knot in his stomach. He might've set himself up for another heartbreak. How could you want someone like him?

Arthur fell asleep riddled with contradicting thoughts that night.

The new reality of being in love with you gave him a sort of solace. But it wasn't until morning that he decided he could only do one thing – keep his distance. For both his and your sake.

You were beautiful and dainty like a rose, but he was the thorns.

Arthur did as he promised to himself – despite the stolen glances and wishful thoughts split in half, he would avoid you, though it wasn't as apparent as he's been so busy lately. Not like he would complain about that, if anything, it took his mind off you, even if not for long.

Above all he wanted to return to camp after a difficult job and be close to you, talk to you, feel your calming presence.

What he didn't expect with his plan was how much it would wear him down.

But the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, which he assumed would eventually happen, or lose his head for someone who wouldn't reciprocate the same feelings back.

He returned to camp late today. In the middle of the night when everyone was already asleep. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in his cot, his shoulders slouched as he got down from the saddle and patted his horse a good night, unsaddling him to give him some rest too. The night was quiet and tranquil, like peace after a storm, given how Arthur's day went.

It has been weeks since Arthur had realized he had feelings for you by this point and looking towards the tents, he couldn't help but wonder whether you were alright. He hasn't been around much lately, so he could only guess you continued to be true to who you've been since the beginning. With ribbons in your hair and a dreamy look in your face.

He sighed at the image. What a lovestruck fool he was.

He missed your sleepy eyes and the little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you were confused.

As if something listened to his wishes, a small figure emerged from the shadows and he realized it was you.

Wearing your undergarments, bloomers with frills and lace, you made your way straight towards him. Your hair was in two braids tied by pink ribbons, though a bit messy from sleep, and the loose strands of hair tucked behind your ear.

He froze in place, watching you get closer while his heart went a little crazy. A part of him was happy to see you approaching him, whatever the reason for that was. It made him feel fuzzy inside and that scared him more than any gunfight.

"Arthur!" you called out for him with a slightly shaky voice, not stopping your steps until you stood right before him.

Arthur fought the urge to reach out for you as he saw you small and vulnerable, looking up at him with need, his heart struck with fear when he noticed the little tears in your eyes.

"[Name], what's wrong?" There was urgency in his voice, a worried look in his eyes and panic coursing through his veins.

You held a sob as you spoke, hugging yourself with your arms, a few of the loose strands falling into your face.

"J-just a nightmare. I woke up so s-scared." You started to shiver as you recalled the frightening images. As soft as you were on the outside, you had a vivid imagination and your nightmares could get very eerie and gruesome, causing chills to travel up your spine every time the memory flashed before your eyes.

Arthur's instincts now clutched his heart tightly, a knot tying itself in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this, helpless, afraid and trembling. The sight of you awakened every bit of his protective nature and he didn't want anything more than to hold you and never let you go, even put his life on the line just to keep you safe.

He didn't think twice.

"Aw, c'mere," he proposed in a low warm voice, enveloping you in his embrace gently enough to give you the option of changing your mind.

But you snuggled into the hug instead, a small sob escaping you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, your arms barely connecting behind his back.

He was so warm and firm and you have never felt safer in your whole life. The anxiety was slowly mellowed out, filling your heart with affection instead.

Arthur breathed in your scent and it made him feel lightheaded, and to feel your soft warm body pressed against his felt like a dream.

You were so delicate in his arms and your exposed skin made it hard for him to keep his thoughts straight. He was a gentleman of course, but his heart raced nonetheless and he feared you could hear it beating against your ear.

"It's okay, t'was just a dream." His voice was soothing and warm, and it worked like a charm. He consoled you with strokes on your back, his big palms hot through the thin layer of your undergarments.

"What horrible thin' did ya dream 'bout?" Arthur asked, his embrace not loosening around you. He was quite happy like this, protecting you between his arms, as if you always belonged there.

You kept your face nuzzled to his chest, comfortably leaning into the hug.

You started talking about the dream and he listened. A monster, you said, something big and deranged sneaking its way around to its victims. You rambled about the details, your descriptions a mess as you spoke in loose tangles.

Arthur slightly smiled at your stuttering, it made you even more adorable than you already were, though he didn't know it was even possible.

He would kill anyone who'd dare to touch you.

"'M the only scary thing 'round here 'm afraid," Arthur muttered, his chest rumbling under your head.

"As if," you retorted with your voice muffled, certainty in your disagreement.

It caught Arthur off guard a little and nervousness arose in him as he asked the following question. "You ain't scared of me?"

He knew if there was even an ounce of fear in you, it would've killed him.

You looked up at him, your eyes big and glossy. "I feel safe with you, Arthur."

His heart dropped and he looked into your eyes completely baffled, not grasping how such a sweet creature like you could say such a thing to him.

You felt safe with him.

You did.

He felt vulnerable under your gaze; not even heavens could make him feel so exposed. He was afraid you could read his thoughts with that pretty mind of yours as you held the eye contact, that you could recognize how much he was now melting and crumbling inside.

So much for being a tough hardened criminal.

He felt like a teenager again. The sweating hands, tingles in his stomach, it was all back.

Arthur tightened his embrace, cuddling you closer.

As he held you under the starry sky, your tiny arms wrapped around him, he was sure of one thing.

He could do many things. But staying away from you was not one of them.

[makochi-furin]

KAJI REN, NAKAHARA CHUUYA, AND SUO HAYATO RELATIONSHIP HCs

A/N: these are what my hcs look like

WARNING(s): n/a

KAJI REN

—So, every relationship starts with actually getting into said relationship. As Kaji goes to an all boys school and doesn't seem particularly sociable, I feel like you two probably met at a concert, or maybe a party (it's said he likes crowded places), or even through a friend. If you work at some sort of shop or restaurant, then maybe there

—At first, he probably intimidated you a little bit. He seems kind of rude with the headphones blaring loud enough for those around him to hear, and he speaks rather harshly, but let's just say you saw/heard about how he protected the townsfolk, so you knew he was good people

—In fact, maybe you gave him a few extra candies/dessert for free (if you work at a shop/restaurant), and that's how you landed on each other's radars. You were taken by 1) how cute he is, and 2) you admired that he, along with the rest of Bofurin, cared so much about your city and spent so much time cleaning it up and keeping it safe

—I feel like the main thing this guy admires in others is honesty, strength of character, and optimism. With honesty, it's because he's not the "beat around the bush" kind of person. He likes to be straightforward, and likes other straightforward people, because he always knows where he stands with them. With strength of character, it's because he really values always striving to be your best for both yourself and the people around you. Optimism is pretty simple—he's a pessimistic guy who sees a lot of unpleasant things, and it's nice for him to spend his time around someone who views the world through brighter eyes. Not necessarily naïveté, but optimism

—Kaji is probably really cute in the beginning of a relationship, or the crush era. It's not really obvious to you, per se, because he's quiet and isn't really the blushy sort most of the time. It's more like he just always makes an effort to see you. He'll text you seldom, because I imagine he's a SUPER dry texter, but he'll come visit you when he gets done with his rounds, or just whenever he can. If he visits you at work, he's the kind of person who will help you despite not getting paid for it (will clean up other people's messes so you don't have to), and will just kind of hang around at the register/wherever you are

—Please work up the courage to ask him to go do something with you, because it's gonna take him a WHILE. He doesn't even really talk, just stands there and hangs. He'll take his headphones off, though, and listen to you go on about your day

—I feel like a first date with Kaji would be pretty simple, but nice. He's not rolling in money, you know, and in this economy, you're probably not, either. Preferably, you two would go somewhere that prompts speaking, so not a movie theatre, because you don't want to go a whole date without saying anything to each other (and he probably would, lmao). Go to a park, or to lunch one weekend, and accept that you'll spend most of the date talking about yourself. He will chip in, but he honestly just prefers to listen to you. Don't take it as he's ignoring you/uninterested, he just honest to god isn't used to talking much anymore

—In the bulk of a relationship, Kaji is a very good boyfriend, but all your friends and your parents probably think he's rude. He can't help it, okay? He's just a rough speaker when he does talk. Please, try to teach him manners before taking him home. Your parents HATE this mf, yall💀💀

—People have probably convinced you that he just ignores you all the time, but put it to the test. I dare you. Go on and on about your day, and then ask him to recall everything you just said. He will. With the straightest face, he will tell you all of it back, even if you tell him to stop, you get the point, and that you're sorry for doubting him. He will be petty about it. Of course, he listens to you! He's salty you think he just stands there and watches grass grow, or something

—He gives the best gifts. Because he spends so much of his time listening to you, he knows exactly what you want. Kaji is very observational, and he has a great memory, so you better expect that if you mention something you want, you're getting it. As soon as he has the money, at least

—He brings you things that reminded him of you throughout the day, especially wildflowers. Most of the time, he just sort of hands the things to you with a, "It reminded me of you." Sometimes, if he's feeling playful, though, he'll give you a rock and just be like, "It looks like you."

—🧍

—You're like, "Thanks for thinking of me, but what???"

—He's so unserious, but no one would ever know because he looks so serious. Kaji has jokes, okay, and they're MEAN. His sense of humor is very sarcastic, but he sounds so for real. Please, do not ever ask him if you look good in something. This mf will look at you with the straightest face like 🗿

—He's the jealous type, okay? He isn't proud of it, but he is. Here he is, taking his headphones off and all for you, and you have the audacity to be paying more attention to other people? Nope. Kaji will be petty about it. I know it's just hc, but I see him as a petty mf, y'all

—You get pretty much whatever you want. Like, he'll roll his eyes and call you needy/dramatic, but you'll still get whatever it is. Literally is so whipped, even if it isn't obvious to everyone else. Kaji tries to be his best for you, just as he tries to be his best for Furin, and he takes that very seriously. He knows you could go find a guy that wasn't a delinquent, had more money, had better manners, and was talkative, so he really tries to show you how much he values you

—Is the kind of bf where, if you ask him to tie your shoe on the street, he says something like, "You have two hands," but he says it as he's crouching down, so... Not sure what your point it, Kaji, honestly

—Overall, I think he's the kind of bf who genuinely knows you better than you know yourself, and it shows. He knows your little habits, knows what you always forget (so he, of course, grabs it for you before you leave your house), knows what your worst subject is (and tries to help), and can speak to you through his eyes. ALWAYS knows what you're thinking

—Btw, you two definitely talk hella shit all the time. He's such a gossip in secret, I'm telling you. He'll pretend not to be interested in your friend group drama, but he is so invested. Don't let the stoic expression fool you

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

—Imma be so real, I have no clue how you met this mf. Maybe you work at a liquor store, or a high end wine place? Or, maybe you waitress at a super fancy restaurant he conducts business in. I genuinely don't know, but these are my guesses

—My interpretation of Chuuya is... different from most of the fandom’s. I think he's generally a very chill, easy-going guy, and it's just that Dazai brings out the worst in him💀 Like, Chuuya is always so cool and collected, and then does the most when Dazai is around. Keep that in mind as you read these, lol

—So, I think if Chuuya thought you were pretty and nice, enough to develop a crush, he'd probably frequent the place you work more often (and for brevity's sake, I'll just say you work at a fancy restaurant). He'll take more clients there, but don't get it twisted that having a pretty face is all you need for him to have a crush. You probably need to be kind, honestly, and maybe even sweet. I really see him with someone who is gentle, but has plenty of agency and isn't afraid to stand up for themselves, so if he sees these traits, he'll probably have an eye for you

—He tips really well, but you'll notice he tips you better than your coworkers. Also, he talks to you, whereas he keeps his conversations with your coworkers to only polite, "Thank you"s and "Please"s. If he's waiting for whoever he's meeting for dinner with to show up, he might say hey to you, ask about your day so far, etc...

—All you know about him right now is that he's pretty, kind to you, and rich, so if you don't leave your number on one of his receipts, what are you even doing?? But, if you don't, he'll probably write his on whatever the Japanese equivalent of a hundred dollar bill is and leave it on the table before he goes

—He texts you first, but after that the ball is in your court. He really doesn't want to come off as creepy/annoying, and he also doesn't have much free time being a mafia executive (not that you know that yet, lmao). Keep the conversations going, please; it will so pay off for you

—After you've been talking for a while, you notice you mostly talk about yourself. He's very vague about his life, especially his career, and it's a little bit sus, but he sends you "good morning :)" and "goodnight :)" texts, so honestly suck it up

—When he finally asks you on a date, it's going to be at the grandest restaurant Japan has to offer. I'm being so serious. A private room, live music, a menu without the prices on it. You probably get shit scared, knowing you can't pay for it, so you're like, "I think I'll just have water."

"Why?" He's blinking at you like a cat. "This place has the best filets you'll ever taste."

"It's too expensive for me."

—When I say he gives you 👁️👄👁️ this look, I mean it. Then, he hits you with:

"I thought it was obvious that I'm paying, doll."

—Try very hard not to pass out on the spot while heaving a dreamy sigh

—Everything goes well. You talk mostly about yourself, and he listens with a little smile, obviously engrossed in whatever story you're telling. Still, he doesn't talk much about himself

—Chuuya can't exactly just spit out that he's an executive in the Port Mafia, and he knows that, but he also hates the feeling of lying to you. The minute he feels like things are getting serious between the two of you, he brings you to his Pent House, sits you down with a glass of red, and spills it

—If you take it well, wonderful! Relationship continues. If not, he'll be down about it, and he'll apologize for wasting your time. He understands most people aren't willing to be with notorious criminals, and he doesn't blame you for it. Chuuya will call a car to come pick you up, and probably never come to your work place again

—In a relationship, I think Chuuya is a very chill boyfriend. He doesn't have much time, but it's definitely quality over quantity with him. When he can spend time with you, he usually has everything all planned out: your favorite spot, your favorite music, your favorite activity. He'll take you on shopping sprees (all on him, of course. Homie knows he's way richer than you could ever hope to be, lucky for you). He buys you gifts, obviously

—You mention you like that car? It’s in your driveway the next morning. Oh, that dress is pretty. He's already taking out his black card and handing it to you. If you don't like gift giving, please don't ever make an Amazon wish list. He will buy everything off it. He just loves to make you happy

—He's a very affectionate bf, and PDA comes naturally to him. He's not full on making out with you on the street, but he has an arm around you, or a hand pressed to the curve of your back to lead you. When you're sitting down together, you're touching knees, thighs, or shoulders. He doesn't see the issue with it. Chuuya loves you and you love him, so why not love on each other in public? He doesn't get the stigma around it, and frankly doesn't care

—He is SO good with your family. Your mother loves him. Your father loves him. Your great aunt loves him. If you have little siblings, he's amazing with them. Big siblings? Guess who's gonna make sure they get promoted in their careers. Christmas is your whole family's favorite holiday now, because this man is such a giver. He's also incredibly polite and well-mannered, not to mention charismatic. Everyone just loves him, hands down

(Just don't let it slip he's a gangster, lmao)

—Overall, Chuuya is a boyfriend who makes it clear just how much he values you and you being a part of his life. I spoke a lot about money, and I'm not trying to say he throws dollars at all his issues, but as a child, Chuuya was with the Sheep and was very poor. Now that he has money, I hc that he loves to share it with those he cares about

—Just please treat this man well. He's been through too much, smh. Give him your all, and he'll give it back tenfold

SUO HAYATO

—Suo is an odd one, for sure

—I feel like we really don't know much about him, so I'm going by what his personality is in the show/the portions of the manga I've read

—You probably met Suo the same way you met Kaji, but I feel like Suo isn't really the relationship type. He probably doesn't think about it much, and he probably doesn't really ever think about people's appearances, either. I think you're better off being friends with him first, or having some sort of meet cute

—I imagine a person with any general personality (loud, or quiet; outgoing, or shy) could catch Suo's eye, as long as they work hard towards their goals (doesn't matter what the goal is), act kindly to those around them, and I can kind of see him with someone more innocent

—I feel like Suo is definitely self-aware enough to realize he has a crush, or has caught feelings, and is perceptive enough to realize that you have, too. He probably goes about it in a very mature manner, where he asks you to hang out, maybe go for a walk, and mentions that he really enjoys spending time with you. If you agree, wonderful. He can tell just by looking into your eyes how you feel about what he's saying. If he can see you feel the same, he'll probably just come out with it and confess by asking you out:

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

—He's probably very low key about the date. I doubt he takes you anywhere crowded. Maybe, instead of a rigidly planned out date, you two simply spend the day together. He follows you around to do whatever you want

—Suo moves slowly, I feel like. He wants to be sure of both his feelings and your's before it gets too serious. He knows you both are young and your emotions change like a switch being flipped, but if they don't, great! He's your bf now. Good luck ever getting rid of this stubborn mf

—He's a very private person, so he's not into PDA. Most people, probably even your friends, don't realize that you're dating unless you tell them

—Suo is oddly proud of you?? If that makes sense. Not in a condescending way, but he genuinely is so happy for you every time you accomplish something. He's goal-oriented and a hard worker, and he notices how hard you work towards your goals, too, even if you think he doesn't. These may be some of the only times he's cool with PDA, because how can he not hug you/kiss you after you just did that?

—The living embodiment of "That's my girl" is this guy

—He's so thoughtful. Acts of service are big for him. Because he's so perceptive, he can see when you're overwhelmed/tired/whatever it may be, and he can also tell what you need to get done/dislike doing the most, and he'll just do it for you without mentioning it. For example, say one of your at home chores are dishes, but you hate doing the dishes. If Suo is over and noticed the plates piling up in the sink, he'll excuse himself from your room for a minute, do them, and return like nothing happened. He carries around an extra jacket with him during the colder months if you're forgetful, or think you can deal with it (we all know you’re cold, don't lie)

—He's another one who is pretty busy, but he always checks up on you during the day. He has your schedule memorized, so you probably get a "How's it going?" text after school and after work

—He can read your mood so well. He knows when you need him to back off because you need alone time, and knows when you need him close. Suo also knows just how to make you feel better. If you're an anxious person, he can tell when you're starting to get overwhelmed. Even if y'all are with friends and you'd think it would be embarrassing, he makes the best excuses as to why you need to step out/leave without offending anyone, or hurting their feelings

—All three of these men are protective of you, but where as Kaji and Chuuya are very much "I'll break your fucking jaw," Suo is willing to let you handle it right up until he knows you can't. When you can't, then he'll step in. He recognizes your agency and that you can handle yourself, and that you probably take pride in handling yourself

—He's such a jokester. He's so unserious. He does it with that little smile, though, so it's just kind of hard to tell. Do not EVER prank him. Suo will see it coming from a mile away, and he'll turn it on you SO fast. Just, don't even try... This mf will embarrass you SO bad

—Overall, Suo is a very calm, thoughtful presence in your life. He's always willing to help you think of ways to fix your problems, or just to listen to you vent (if that's what you want). He knows and respects your boundaries, and he's incredibly perceptive

—I forgot to add it up there, but obviously your parents/siblings love him. He doesn't come off as rough as Kaji, and he's incredibly polite to them. Suo can play your mom and dad like a violin, which comes in especially handy when he convinces them to let you do something they normally would yell at you for even suggesting

—Silver tongued bastard. I love him, y'all. I can't—💀💀

[goldsbitch]

Right? p4

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

part 1, part 2, part 3

warning: 18+ i guess?

It was a bit tricky to find a safe moment of solitude for the two of you to have your promised photoshoot. But in two days, your plans might finally become true.

What seemed easier, surprisingly, was finding little moments for quick make out sessions. In the driver's room, in the PR office, in that little hallway just next the mechanics gear storage.

You were a bit more careful outside the garage, but could not help one little kiss between the trailers.

It wasn't like Lando was shy at the beginning, but the more you got into the, the cheekier he became. He was so touchy. Grabbing your boobs and ass during make outs, brushing your hand when he walked by you and getting a little too close when discussing his photos.

You must have missed it before, or the frequency of him putting his hand on your shoulders has skyrocketed in the past few days.

You loved how you got to know him more. Learning the secret tricks that worked on your little, minor, definitely not massive, crush.

Zak Brown has requested a general meeting of the whole crew once you all landed in the next location. A tiny part of you suddenly got worried it might concern your little endeavor. Keeping this under the radar was of utmost importance, no matter what Lando said. You hoped you could trust him and his confidentiality. It felt strange to depend on that, but the adrenaline rush was hard to resist. The meeting turned out to be the introduction of a new sponsor and the obligation that this entailed. You had never been more happier for a new sponsor.

-"I might have one request for our photoshoot," was a text from Lando that popped up on your laptop screen. He was sitting on the other side of the room, at the front with all the important folks, while you were in the back right next to your other colleagues making notes. You looked at Lando, who was already watching you. Once your eyes met, he turned to his phone again. Having a feeling this might be one of his inappropriate games, you quickly disabled all notifications on your laptop. Instead you took your phone out, hoping no one was paying any attention to you.

-"Can you move just little to your left?" he continued. You gave him a questioning look and did as he asked.

-"Great, thanks sweetheart."

-"May I ask why, Lando?"

-"It's very closely connected to my request."

"Which would be....?"

"Be as kind to me as you are today" Again, you reacted with another questioning look. Lando took a moment to reply to a question from Zak and only after that quickly took his phone again to elaborate.

"Tight t-shirt with no bra is the peak of kindness in my opinion. Remember this next time I'm sad, I'm sure it'll help."

There is a certain kind of mad, that's not really angry or serious even, but still manages to rile up the blood in ones veins. Lando noticed your disbelief and tried to hide his amusement by pretending to be super interested in what Zak has been saying. For his own sake, he should stick with a driver's career, rather than acting.

In the meantime, to cut his fun short, you gracefully took out your sweater and put it on.

5 seconds later you received a ":(" text from the one and only.

"Sad already, Lando? I recall some cure for that. But probably for a closer inspection."

Lando was biting his cheek while reading it, only to be lightly reminded by Oscar of all people, that Lando's full attention is required to other things than his phone.

You were also pretending to be super interested in the presentation, but in the corner of your eye, you felt the rookie McLaren driver pointing his attention in your direction.

Probably nothing, right?

//

The change in your mood has been noted by those closest to you. All of a sudden, you were like a lit up candle, shining around every room you walked in. This did not play well with your need to stay as lowkey as possible. Oh and you were dyinggg to speak about this with someone to help you process what the fuck was actually happening. But it was all just pretty delicate. Mentally, you'd settled on the idea that once this is over, it will be a cool and unbelievable story for you and your friends. You did not usually fall for people, but when you did, you fell hard. You were currently overrun by adrenaline and dopamine to make much of a room for any of this to worry you.

Lando seemed to be followed by someone from the team all throughout the week. He was very vocal to you over texts about his impatience and that you both would need to be creative. Lando also wanted to catch the golden hour for your photoshoot. Wanted was an understatement, he was obsessed with it.

So when is the best time to avoid everyone? When they're busy getting ready for a new sponsor welcoming party. It was easy for your to get out of it, it was impossible for Lando to skip it completely - but arriving fashionably late was something he could very much afford. Which gave you an hour or two to have fun.

When the taxi dropped you off over at a location he sent you, he was already there. You agreed that at the moment, him picking you up would be risky. His car here on a random hill near Monte Carlo was suspicious enough. Then again, normal cars seemed to avoid Monaco.

He was leaning over centuries old abandoned wall on a make shift parking spot next to a forest, light shining directly into his face. You were not sure whether he was trying or if it just really came naturally, but when took his sunglasses off to look at you properly, he looked like he was put on this Earth to break hearts, to capture and allure anyone he decided.

So, into the lion's den you went. Nowhere you'd like to be but here.

"Good girl," is what he opened with. Shamelessly looked you up and down and continued: "I like it when you listen to me." Yes. You wore a tight crop top without a bra. And you had zero regrets for using cheap tricks.

"Well, Mr. Photographer. You're the boss. Now it's your turn to tell me what to do." The way how him telling you what to do made you so horny was freaking you out a bit. You were usually the dominant one, right?

"Like the sound of that. Come over there with me and let's see how this light works."

You were 100% sure he wanted to kiss you. Just like you wanted to kiss him. But this cat and mouse vibe was making it all just a bit more exciting. So you immediately went to where he was pointing.

"Taking a girl in the forest, alone. You sure you're not planning anything I should be worried about, am I right?"

"If I recall, you're the one who dragged me to a forest at night. Perhaps it's our thing."

"We'll see."

//

Lando had a different kind of a photographer personality than you had. With him doing this just for fun, he was super relaxed, chatty and playful. You were more "crazy eyes" "in-the-zone" type of a person when it came to photography. But his approach worked on you. You were actually bit worried coming here, because being on that side of the camera was not your comfortable spot. He managed to get all of this out of the window without even trying. At first he gave you over the top instructions as a joke, suddenly speaking with a horrifyingly bad French accent.

"I'm not doing that, Lando," you laughed out when he requested you run away from him so he could take some blurry back shots.

"Monsignor Norris for you, madame, let's be professionale," he kept his act and looked at you and rolled his eyes. "These young hot girls, they always think they are ze shit. How can I work with these material. My art will suffeour."

You looked at him, trying not to laugh at his theatrical expressions. Apparently, you were now into bad accents jokes. He was getting under your skin in parts you had no idea is possible. "This was maybe more German than French, monsignor Norris."

"Papa must have been German then." He then swiftly moved his camera up, completely taking you by surprise.

"Yes," he abandoned the accent. "The face of a total disbelief suits you the best. I want to see that."

It was fascinating to watch someone walk so gracefully on the line of serious hot and goofy cute. You were doomed.

You sighed loudly. He smiled. You bit your lip and butterflies flew as if they were on drugs. Because spending time with him was having the same affect as drugs would have on different people.

"Can I take one photo of you?" you asked. "The light is just too perfect to miss this out."

He stepped closer. Handed you the camera. When his hand touched yours, it felt like being burned in the best way possible.

"Yes. But only if this goes to your special secret folder with the other ones."

You nodded. His fingers played with yours. You looked up at his face and lips he just licked. And then you kissed him again. This was probably the slowest kiss you ever shared. Not a quick "hurry up before someone sees us" type of kiss. No, this was the one where you explored, drowned in the moment. You were becoming used to the texture of his lips, the way his tongue moved and how his teeth lightly bit your own lips once in a while. This wasn't a rushed moment. This was a study session. It continued to surprise you how great of a kissing partner he was to you. Putting most of your previous kisses you had with other people in shame.

When his hand slowly traced a line starting down your neck and ending right above your nipple, you could feel him smile into your kiss. "Shall I continue?" Lando had his line of asking for consent and making it sound hot mastered to perfection.

"Yes."

"Yes...?"

"Yes, please."

"That's more like it." And he went on to circle and squeeze your nipple. It was as if he had unlocked a new level. The further you went the more had the curiosity about how it must feel when he'd be inside you grew into a need. Desire transforming to urge. Intrigue growing to lust. Lando studied what kind of an effect each of his move had. And used what he had observed to toy with you even more. He gently pushed you to the nearest tree, pressed his body against yours and bit your nipple through your shirt, causing you only wanting more. You grabbed his hand it on your other breast and make him squeeze it. While you yourself started exploring his torso under his t-shirt. He returned back to kissing you, while his hands roamed around your body. You reached all the way to his belt and pulled him forward. "Careful, Y/N," Lando joked in between kisses. "Might be hard to turn back and stop if we keep it at this pace. Here in this forest. Anyone could walk by."

Your hand started to trace the outline of his growing erection. "Is it bad that I'm finding that hot?"

He smiled. "Yes. And I guess we are both bad people."

You gently grabbed him. The reaction his body was giving you was everything. "So we'll stop here. We need to get you to the stupid event anyway."

Lando took a deep breath. "Right."

"Right," you smiled, finally seeing that you have some effect on him, which was only making you want to go further in the future.

You both stepped away from each other, burning each other with eye contact. Once Lando came back to normal a bit, he winked at you. "Come along, I need to smile at people who are making sure we get paid."

"Fair enough." You snapped an unexpected photo, getting his flustered face in the perfect light. Cheeky smiles were shared again.

The sun was almost set as you reached his car. "I'll drive you to the hotel."

"You sure?" you asked. "I'm happy to get a cab to be safe."

"Nonsense, you'd be waiting here for half an hour. Come, I'll drop you off in the parking lot of the hotel, quickly dress and head to the event."

You got into his car, reluctantly. Once you were settled, he promply started the car, did 180 drift and had the car sprint to the road entrance.

You laughed. "Show off...."

"Ha, as if."

The drive was silent for few minutes, but after that Lando started asking you quite a lot of questions. It seemed a bit strange to you. He was suddenly interested in how you like your colleagues, what got you to the world of F1, how your family handled the fact you were away all the times. You made a joke about this feeling like an interview. He joked back, saying he is continuing on trying different roles and progressed from a photographer to an interviewer. You had a lot to say about this - how come he would consider this a progress?

It felt like you could spend hours talking to this British idiot.

In the middle of your conversation, he put his hand on your leg for a moment. It really should not make you lose focus on the outside world so quickly, right?

part 5

_______________________

@i-wish-this-was-me @lqvesoph

[perfctvelvet]

Hi can I request something with Jenna Ortega for the Saturday sleepover. Thanks!

Make it work; Jenna/Reader

Summary: Reader's brother brings his girlfriend home on their weekend visit from college. The two don't really get along, but somehow find a way to find common ground.

Content: Infidelity, enemies to lovers sorta kinda, oral sex, fingering, and a little tit play.

WC: 5.7k

visits homes were made on two conditions:

1) Her parents let her fly under the radar, not telling anyone that she's coming home for the weekend.

2) There will be no family events (with Thanksgiving and Christmas as the only exceptions) that she is obligated to go to.

Technically her parents hadn't broken that promise, but they didn't tell her that along with her visiting, her little brother and his new girlfriend will also be in town as well.

"She's a really sweet girl, Y/n, and your brother is very excited for all of us to meet her. You can just pretend to be happy for the weekend, right?"

Despite there only being a two year difference between the two, Y/n still saw Isaac as goofy 15-year-old instead of the college sophomore he is. She would always clown him for being awkward with girls and having crushes on her friends. Something seemed to switch overnight the moment he stepped onto a college campus. After 4 years of failing to find a girl to date him in high school, it only took him a month into his first year to start messing around with girls. Y/n has been spared all the gory details, but she knows her brother was participating in the usual college fuckboy activities. Now as a sophomore he decides it’s time to get into a serious relationship and “change his ways”. They were driving over 5 hours just to come for three and a half days. She hasn't heard much about his "girlfriend" except for what she learned from her parents in the past few hours. She was a bit bitter that her brother hadn't told her first and didn't tell her anything at all.

Her escape home from college is supposed to be just that, an escape. But, with Isaac bringing home his first ever girlfriend, there is bound to be a spectacle. One of her nosy aunts will somehow find out and find their way over and make it a big event. Isaac and his girlfriend are set to arrive within an hour and by then Y/n suspects that her entire extended family will know.

"Who even is this girl anyway? It feels like we're rolling out the red carpet for her...for them."

"Don't act like it wasn't the same for when you brought home your first boyfriend. Even though we knew you really didn't like him, it was still a milestone for you! That wasn't very important for you, but this is very important for your brother. He loves this girl-"

"He's 19 and a sophomore in college — there will be plenty of girls he 'loves'."

"That may be true, but he really likes this girl. So for one weekend, just be happy for your little brother."

Y/n's mother isn't making a suggestion, she's demanding it. The look in her mother's eyes is recognizable, one that easily made her shut up. Her complaints will continue to fall on deaf ears because this weekend is not about her. If she wants to be holed up in her room the entire time while the rest of them enjoy the weekend, then neither of her parents will stop her. However, her mother will not let her sabotage this weekend with her attitude.

"I think they're here," her father chimes in from the kitchen.

There is the unmistakable sound of a car motor coming from outside. Y/n's mom jumps up from the couch with excitement before rushing towards the door. Y/n hasn't seen her mother act like this in years, not since she came back home for her first break from college. She was seriously this excited to meet some random girl that her brother will probably not be with by the end of this summer. Her parents were doting too hard on her little brother just because he was awkward with girls for the entirety of his time in high school, but who isn't?

Y/n was completely turned off by the cheesiness of the reunion and meeting of this girl. Her mother threw her arms around his girlfriend as if she had known her for years. She takes a step back to look at her before fawning at her, "you're so adorable!" The four of them were too chummy for her liking — even her father was gushing.

When they got to Y/n she's sure they expected her to have the same reaction as the three of them, but she couldn't muster up the energy to put on a performance for some random girl she's not going to think twice about once this trip is over.

"Hi! I'm Jenna!"

There was something about this girl that Y/n didn't like, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Something about her bubbly little personality seemed fake. Certainly she should've known that wearing a low cut top to meet your boyfriend's parents for the first time wasn't appropriate.

"Hi."

If looks could kill then Y/n's mother would be doing life. For one weekend she wanted her daughter to quell the 'ice princess' act and even just pretend to be happy.

"Do you need help getting settled in?" Y/n's mother intervened before the situation could become tense. "I can show you to the guest room!"

"Sure, I'd love that!"

Y/n felt like the odd one out. The entire night was about the lovely couple that is her little brother and his perky little girlfriend. Her mother cooked his favorite meal as if she wasn't home from college too. Her master's program was killing her and she would've appreciated her mom throwing in a little something for her too. But no, it was all about Isaac and Jenna. If she had known that she was in for a long, annoying weekend, she would've stayed miles away from this place.

——————————————————

Her resent was obvious to everyone. Everyone except Jenna. Y/n felt like the girl was a little too dumb for her own good. A part of her felt like an absolute bitch for thinking that way, but her annoyance over her parents constant fawning over those two really irked her. They really wanted Y/n to be a part of their joy when it didn't matter to her. Her getting along with Jenna doesn't matter seeing that the girl and her brother are not going to last. It's college, and they're only sophomores. This isn't some great love that's going to stand the test of time. All it takes is one party, one glance at another person, or one stressful semester before it all ends up crashing down. Y/n won't revel in the eventual demise, but she's certainly going to rub it in her parents face to never take her brother's little flings seriously ever again.

"We'll be back by six. You know how your father gets at the Tommy Bahama semi-annual sale. You promise to play nice and maybe hangout with your brother and his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, okay, just bring me back a pretzel."

Y/n hadn't seen her brother or his girlfriend since last night's dinner, and she plans to keep it that way. In fact she wasn't planning on seeing anyone for the rest of the night. With her parents, who surely won't be home by six, out of the house, and the other two most likely having plans, she was prepared for a day alone. She wondered if she still had the vibrator she bought when she was 19 under her bed...

She mentally flipped through all the things she could do today with an empty house. So lost in thought that she didn't hear the rustling and voices upstairs. What pulled her out of her thoughts was the sound of feet bolting down the stairs.

"See you, sis!"

"Wait! Where the hell are you going?!"

When she caught the first glimpse of her brother, he looked like he had been caught. Yet he quickly straightened up and gave her that smile he loves to flash whenever he wants to evade trouble. What was missing was his little girlfriend which made Y/n furrow her brow. She swears that if he's pulling what she thinks he's pulling, her parents are going to come back home to him tied up.

"To see my friends!" He answers as if there wasn't an elephant in the room. Jenna was nowhere to be found yet he was trying to leave.

"What about your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's gonna stay here. Please play nice, okay?!"

"You sound like-" The door slams behind her brother, "mom."

Isaac didn't give a damn. End of story. He was going to leave his girlfriend alone in a house with someone who doesn't care to engage with her at all.

Y/n can't help but feel a little bit bad for the brat. That was a shitty thing for her brother to do and it shows that he probably shouldn't be in a committed relationship. If something like this happened to her, she would take the car back to campus and leave them stranded.

"Asshole," she mumbles under her breath before getting up from the kitchen island. There is nothing she can do about her brother's dickhead move, so she just climbs the stairs to head back to her bedroom.

Now, just because she felt bad didn't mean she was going to overcompensate. Today is her day, plus she still finds Jenna to be annoying. But, it's like the younger girl didn't get the hint over dinner last night because when she spots Y/n her eyes light up.

"Hi! It looks like it's just us today!"

"It looks like it's just you today. I have plans."

"Oh are you leaving the house too?"

"No."

"Then it is just us today I suppose."

Y/n was a little flustered at her comment. That wasn't her intention, but Y/n felt like Jenna was trying to poke at her on purpose.

"You can do whatever you want, just don't bother me."

And just like that, Y/n had closed the door in Jenna's face just like Isaac did to her earlier. She really couldn't claim her brother to be the asshole when she was just as rude to Jenna. But, that's not her problem, is it?

——————————————————

If there was one way for Jenna to describe this family it would be odd.

Isaac's parents were nice, but everyone didn't seem to want to be around each other like. From the picture he painted her about his family, Jenna expected things like family game nights or family outings. Instead she was stuck in the childhood bedroom of her boyfriend's while everyone except for his moody sister was out and about. She had asked, even begged, Isaac to take her with her but he insisted it was "boys' night." She came all this way just to sit in his outdated room, alone on a Saturday night. She can't help but feel lied to about everything; his family, their plans for the weekend, and how he feels about her. Meeting the parents was supposed to be a big step in their relationship, but she just feels so discarded. Sure, they showed interest in getting to know her at dinner, but she doesn't know if they approve of her or not. Jenna feels like she loves Isaac, but she feels uncertain about everything right now.

The only thing she could do was make the best out of time alone. She didn't have any idea what to do, but she remembered Isaac telling her about a secret Jacuzzi their parents had on a private balcony. He told her how to get to it without getting caught because he promised that they would use it while everyone was asleep. She had packed her bathing suit for that exact reason, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste. She changed out of her regular clothes and into the pink bathing suit before wrapping herself in one of Isaac's towels. It was covered in dinosaurs and looked two be more than 10 years old. 'Really?' she thought to herself. Thank god no one is going to see her like this.

She left Isaac's room and tip-toed through the halls so as to not disturb Y/n. Y/n was on her ass for some reason and it was secretly bothering her. She felt it was very important for everybody in her boyfriend's family likes her, but Y/n seemed adamant about keeping her distance. Maybe Y/n was just being a protective big sister, but Jenna couldn't help but feel a little ostracized. The best thing she felt to do was just stay out of Y/n's way.

What didn't cross her mind as she made her trek to that coveted jacuzzi was that Y/n probably knew about it too. Jenna felt like was doing her a favor by fucking off to a part of the house that seemed unknown. But, she was in for a shock when she saw Y/n already lounging in the jacuzzi. She had a big pair of headphones and had her head back. She almost looked like she was sleeping. It was the most peaceful Y/n has looked this entire time.

Jenna's instinct was to turn around; to make her escape without Y/n noticing her. She was still feeling weird about being left here alone, and more and more she was feeling like an intruder. Y/n hates her and the last thing Jenna should do is bother her and make it worse. However, a second voice was telling her to not leave.

'No. No...don't turn around. She's not going to do anything besides bitch and complain. You're used to that by now, you can handle it.'

Where the sudden confidence came from, Jenna doesn't know, but now she feels like it's too late to back out. She stealthily walks over to the jacuzzi, doing her best not to disturb Y/n.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Jenna felt her heart almost come to a stop. How did Y/n notice her? Surely she was quiet enough. She hadn't even gotten in yet.

Y/n sits up and lifts her sunglasses to stare at her brother's girlfriend. Isaac must've told her about the jacuzzi because there is no way she would be able to discover it on her own. Y/n was pissed, more so at her brother than Jenna. If she had been left alone in a stranger's home she probably would've gotten bored and done the same. However she's not keen on extending any grave to Jenna who is now disturbing her peace.

"How did you find this?"

"I-I..."

Of course Jenna had no answer. Y/n was only asking to taunt her.

"You know you're not supposed to be up here, right?"

"A-Are you?"

"Hm. Touché."

When she wasn't trying so hard to impress the parents, she actually had a little bite to her albeit she was still nervous in Y/n's presence. Since she was already here now, Y/n figures she'll let her in.

"Well, I guess we can both fit in here."

Jenna felt a weird sense of pride. Yes, Y/n still couldn't be bothered with her presence, but she had given in.

-

It was awkward, Y/n couldn't lie. She tried to ignore Jenna's presence, but it was hard to. Their legs would bump together every now and then to which Jenna would profusely apologize about. Y/n shrugged it off, but she found Jenna's constant apologizing to be insufferable. Why was she trying so hard to get Y/n to like her?

Curiosity began to nag at her for the first time since she met the girl.

"Jenna."

Jenna is taking back by Y/n actually calling her name. She thought that maybe it was either a mistake or she was imagining things. Until she calls her name again.

"Doesn't it kind of annoy you that my brother just left you stranded here?"

Yes.

"No, not really! He's been talking about seeing his friends for a while now so I'm happy for him!"

"He brought you here just so he could spend time with his boys...got it."

"I-I don't think it's like that Y/n."

"I think it is, Jenny."

Jenna flared her nostrils at Y/n purposefully calling her the wrong name. It was much better when there was awkward silence between them. Y/n had been poking at her since she arrived with her boyfriend. One of Jenna's friends had warned her about the possibility of dealing with a bitchy older sister or helicopter parent, but she had brushed it off. Yet the moment she entered the house Y/n had been dismissive of her. The one thing Jenna wanted out of this trip was to be liked by her boyfriend's family. She still feels like she can make Y/n like her.

"Isaac and I are really happy together, Y/n. Things aren't perfect, but he's trying! You should have more faith in him seeing that he's your brother and all."

"I'm on your side. If my boyfriend left me all alone I'd be pissed. You should be pissed."

The more Y/n brings it up, the less Jenna is able to push down her real feelings. She's not pissed like Y/n keeps suggesting, but she's disappointed that Isaac isn't really doing his best to make her feel included. Some of his friends have girlfriends, why couldn't they have done a group hang. She could've gotten a break from Y/n's coldness and met some other girls and possibly gotten closer to them. Instead she's forced to make this relationship between her and her boyfriend's older sister work.

"I guess it's a little annoying."

"I told you."

"But, it's not as annoying as you constantly being mean to me."

For the second time today Y/n was taken back by this newfound bravery from Jenna. It made her both grow respect for her and the urge to put her back in her place.

"It's just funny watching you be so desperate for approval. I can understand why you want my parents to like you, but they have low standards. But me? I'm just the older sister. I love Isaac to death but we aren't exactly the best of siblings. You'd be better kissing up to his friends and their girlfriends, not me."

Jenna sighs. She didn't expect Y/n to really understand (not because she can't, but because she doesn't want to). It was starting to annoy her more than upset her at this point.

"I just don't get why you don't like me? I'm not asking to be best friends, but is the bitchy act so important that you can't even be decent to me?"

The more time she spent around the twerp, the more Y/n became amused by her. Jenna reminds her of a teacher's pet, someone who needs to be liked by an important authority figure. Maybe Isaac talked her up as some big sister, but Y/n found their relationship to be typical, so the fawning from little Jenna was strange. However, the little devil on her shoulder is telling her to use it to her advantage. Jenna is a cute girl, and obviously unsatisfied in life. Y/n can see it in her eyes that she's not happy nor having a good time.

"Life isn't that simple, Jen. People aren't going to magically fall in love with you. Some things need to be earned." Y/n can see it written on Jenna's face that she's trying to think of ways to earn Y/n's respect. "But, you seem like the type that tries, I'll give you that."

"Well you could at least try to play nice," Jenna whispers under her breath, but she's too close for Y/n not to hear.

"I can play nice, but you might not like how I play."

The way she says the word 'play' is chilling. She's completely fucking around and Jenna is just letting her do so. She's a smart girl, and she knows what's up, but she's not bold enough to speak it out loud.

"I can show you though," Y/n continues. "If you're not scared. I would never make you do anything you don't want to do." Y/n's voice was still colored in her teasing tone, but she was being honest.

Jenna was alone, left behind by her boyfriend to go fuck around with his friends. Maybe it was the anger she felt towards him and the way he doesn't seem to care that much, but for the first time in her life she's willing to do something wrong. But it was for the approval of his boyfriend's big sister, so it's not completely fucked she rationalizes.

"What is it you had in mind?"

"Come over here, Jenna."

There wasn't time for waiting when Y/n was looking at her like that, her body was moving on its own. The bubbles fizz against her skin as she moves through the water. She doesn't think she's been so close to someone else like she is to Y/n right now. There is a certain intimacy that exists in this moment that Jenna isn't even sure she's felt in her relationship. Maybe she's not that into Isaac if she's willing to cheat on him just because he left her alone. Y/n's approval is now less about their relationship and more about Jenna herself.

"Have you ever eaten a girl out?" Y/n was bold in asking. She sort of regrets it when she sees the look on Jenna's face. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, no, it's okay. I've never been with another girl at all."

"Really? No drunken kisses? No weird sorority shit?"

Jenna shakes her head no, and Y/n believes her. She hates to be one of the girl's first, but so be it.

"Don't worry, I'll show you what to do."

The water cascades off Y/n's body as she lifts herself out of the jacuzzi. She rests her back against the house. Her legs spread as an invite for Jenna to come in. She was still covered by her bikini but it was little and it didn't leave much to the imagination. Jenna never had wandering eyes, but she can't deny that Y/n is hot.

Y/n hooks her fingers in her bikini to pull them to the side. Jenna can't pull her eyes away from Y/n's center as she exposes herself. Little droplets slide down her inner thigh and her pussy looks like a treat.

"Don't be shy." Y/n grabs the back of her head and guides her in closer.

Jenna places a hand on each of Y/n's thighs, unintentionally spreading them wider.

"Ooh, I knew you'd be an eager one."

Jenna looks up at her for more reassurance. Y/n's clit was dying to be touched, of course she was going to nod her head in encouragement. 

"Touch me like you would touch yourself."

Now that's something Jenna knows all about. The only difference is that she's never been face to face with herself, but still she's trying -- she's come too far not to work hard.

"Oh fuck!"

Y/n nearly melts when Jenna presses her thumb against her clit. She's slow to start but very nimble as she massages the bundle of nerves. Y/n's fortitude slips a little as pleasure takes precedence over her game.

"Just like that," she whines in the most needy way.

The praise made the younger girl move her thumb faster and harder against Y/n's clit. Hearing her moan and watching her writhe made Jenna feel so much bolder. The older, meaner Y/n was mewling like a kitty cat for her. Jenna can feel Y/n's clit pulsing against her thumb and if it was up to her, Jenna would make her cum. Y/n, however, has other plans. She pulls Jenna's hand away from her sex. One look into each other's eyes and Jenna knows what Y/n wants. She pulls Jenna's hand away from her sex. One look into each other's eyes and Jenna knows what Y/n wants. She presses her face into her sex, her tongue not hesitating to dive into Y/n's warm cunt. She feels her head engulfed in Y/n's plush thighs before they're pulled away. Y/n has to tame herself because she wants to see Jenna's pretty face between her legs.

'First time my ass.'

Y/n can't help but be impressed by how good Jenna is doing. She licks her a little sloppily but the enthusiasm is welcomed. In fact she was eating her like she had been starved. She figured Jenna was repressed, but not this much.

Her tongue slides through her folds to collect her arousal. Every few seconds her tongue swipes past Y/n's opening and then back up to her clit. Y/n's legs tremble in excitement every time her clit is teased. She sort of edged herself by making Jenna stop earlier but she's feeling the insatiable need to release bubbles in her belly again. The purpose of this was to make Jenna kneel, but now her wet tongue is dragging Y/n down to her level. Both are hungry for pleasure.

Y/n pushes the stray hairs out of Jenna's face so it's not obscured. Jenna just looks so much prettier in between her legs.

"You're not so bad at this, Jenny."

It's hard to sound condescending towards someone when they're making you shiver with pleasure. Y/n can feel her clit pulsing against Jenna's tongue. She feels the fire in her belly as Jenna keeps going. There's something so sexy about how determined she is. Y/n can see how desperate she still is for approval deep in her eyes. Y/n begins to fantasize about what it would be like to take Jenna in different ways. She'd love to watch her tits bounce as she rides her strap. She can already imagine what her moans would sound like. The thoughts help drive Y/n over the edge and she cums against Jenna's tongue.

She feels a little bad that she can't control how her hips buck in pleasure. Like the newbie she is, Jenna doesn't hold onto Y/n's hips to control her. Instead she lets her mouth detach from Y/n's pussy. It's too bad because she already misses the taste of Y/n on her tongue. Jenna does her best not to seem so desperate, but her words betray her.

"W-Was that good?"

Y/n doesn't say anything, she just laughs.

"Come here."

Jenna listens, standing to face her boyfriend's sister. Y/n takes in her appearance; she looks a bit of a mess. Her bikini top somehow got fucked up in the process and exposes one of her nipples. Her chin is wet, and Y/n doesn't know if it's her own cum or if it's water from the Jacuzzi. Curiosity makes her desperate to know. She leans forward and kisses Jenna on her soft, pink lips. She feels Jenna stiffen from the unexpected kiss. When she pulls back Jenna looks like she's stuck on stupid. 

"It was alright," Y/n lies. "I guess, good enough for you to deserve this."

Jenna furrows her brow in confusion until Y/n presses her body against hers and slips her hand down her bikini bottoms. A groan instantly escapes her mouth when she feels Y/n's hand press against her clit. Similar to earlier, Jenna's thighs wrap around Y/n's hand but unlike Y/n she doesn't draw back. She becomes this feral little thing who grinds herself against Y/n's hand. Y/n can't help but laugh at her again. She wasn't laughing to be mean or make her feel bad, no, she was loving this.

"When was the last time you came?"

"A m-month ago."

"Figures."

It was surprising that Jenna could still speak. There was a difference in how Y/n handled her and how Jenna handled Y/n. Y/n is used to this and it shows. She truly doesn't know much about Jenna, but she knows how to pick her apart. Y/n kisses her shoulder while she rubs her clit a little more faster now. Her hand was sticky with Jenna's arousal. She places one more kiss to her shoulder before she bends over to take the one exposed nipple in her mouth. Jenna throws her head back in ecstasy, and if it wasn't for Y/n pinning her to the wall of the jacuzzi she wouldn't be able to stand up.

"It feels like you're going to cum already."

Y/n slips two fingers inside of Jenna just to feel her walls pulsating against her. Jenna lets out a moan louder than she's ever heard from herself before. Y/n keeps sucking on her nipples while rubbing her sweet spot. Jenna feels like her senses are going to overload from all the pleasure. No one has given her body this much attention at once and it's a sad reminder for why she didn't really care about cheating on her boyfriend in the first place, with his sister no less.

Jenna is still too shy to vocalize how good Y/n is making her feel, but her moans tell the story for her. Y/n loves hearing every little whimper and groan that comes from her mouth. She can tell how close Jenna is just by the sounds. She pushes her fingers in deeper and curls them to massage her sweet spot. That has Jenna seeing stars and cumming on her fingers in seconds.

"Fuck!"

It's probably the first time Y/n has heard the girl cuss, and it sounds so delicious. She was so loud, neither of them caring about possibly getting caught. However, once both of their dazes of pleasure seemed to subside, they realized if they were to get caught like this it would be very ugly.

Y/n pulls her fingers out of Jenna's pussy and dips her hands in the water to wash them off.

"This never happened. Okay?"

Surprisingly it was Jenna who was trying to cover her bases. Y/n can see the worry in her eyes about this little moment between them ever being found out. She nods her head in agreement, and before she can say anything, Jenna is getting out of the jacuzzi. She's probably embarrassed because she didn't even say goodbye to Y/n. Y/n just watches her scurry away, bikini top still messed up and tracking water throughout her parents room. Y/n sighs, wondering why she always gets caught up with the odd ones. That's just life, she guesses.

——————————————————

This weekend really seemed to drag itself out and Y/n can't think of one moment where she was really able to totally relax. 

Her parents came home shortly after she got out of the Jacuzzi, and Isaac was home an hour later. Of course her parents wanted to have some sort of family game night and Y/n was subject to 5 whole rounds of charades. 

Not a single word was spoken between Y/n and Jenna for the rest of the trip. Isaac had his suspicions that they must've gotten into some sort of fight while everyone was gone because Jenna wouldn't even look at Y/n. He tried to ask Jenna about it but she was dismissive of him and just said she stayed in his room the entire night. Only did she partially tell the truth when he found her wet bikini in her room.

"I was in the jacuzzi and then she kicked me out. That's it. You're sister doesn't like me and I'm fine with that. I just want to get this weekend over without any problems."

It was funny seeing her little brother be so clueless to everything. Y/n loves him to death, but he's so shitty dealing with girls that she can't be surprised that one decided to cheat on him. She may be going to hell for allowing the situation to happen, but at least she had fun.

Just a few hours before she heads back to her apartment, she goes to the kitchen to find everyone else. Instead she just sees her mother there alone.

"Where's Isaac?"

"They left an hour ago."

"Oh, I was going to say goodbye."

"Really? It doesn't see like you really enjoyed your weekend with him or his girlfriend."

"That's not true, mom! I thought Jenna was alright."

"Isaac said you two got into a fight while we were gone."

Y/n pauses for a few seconds. Did Jenna say something? She left no love marks on her so he couldn't be insinuating that they got into a physical fight. Y/n was cautious as she spoke next.

"No we didn't! We even shared the jacuzzi for a little while. She's a little annoying, but after that I found her to be okay to be around."

Y/n's mother eyes her for a bit. She used to know her daughter so well, but after a few years away from home, her poker face is too hard to read.

"Well, I guess I'll overlook the fact that you two were using my jacuzzi which is only supposed to be for your father and I."

"C'mon mom, you know that is the worst kept secret in this house."

Y/n's mom sighs in defeat. There is something else to the story, but there's no use in pushing Y/n to say more. In a few more months they'll all be reunited again for Isaac's summer break, and Y/n's month-long visit. If they're still dating by that point then Jenna will tag along with Isaac too. It's something Y/n's mom is now apprehensive about, but Y/n is secretly looking forward to it. Hopefully her brother doesn't screw anything up so she'll be able to see Jenna again. Maybe next time they'll be able to enjoy each other in other ways.

"And you never know, mom, Jenna and I could end up being really good friends someday."

[bet-on-me-13]

Metahumans Anonymous Pt.2

Continuing where Part 1 left off

(This is Damian Robin)

(Also I need to add one more thing about the previous part. This is an Anonymous Meeting Place, so to protect their identities even more, they wear Masks or Face Covers to try and stay hidden)

Robin was hopping across rooftops on Patrol, going through an area that he has noticed they have been accidentally avoiding, when he sees a strange light coming out from a skylight.

He wanders over and sees an average looking man shooting Fire at another man, who seems to be shooting Ice right back at him in some sort of battle. They even have technological weapons and masks.

Looking around the room more, there are potentially dozens of Metahumans battling in the room, all with small weapons and Masks. At first he thinks they are being made to battle by somebody else, like a Fighting Ring. But then, the two from before call for the others to wrap it up.

Obviously, those two are leading the others, and all of them are there of their own free will, he can tell that from their body language.

He is convinced that they are a group of Metahuman Criminals training to take over the city using their powers. He was raised in an Assassin Cult, and he inherited his dad's paranoia, so he doesn’t even consider the idea that this is completely harmless. He also just recently moved to Gotham, so he doesn’t know the real reason for the No Metas Rule, he just assumes the rumors were true that his dad didn’t like Metahumans and never brings it up.

In his eyes the only reason they could have for using their powers secretly in a warehouse at the edge of town using weapon-like machines against each other, was because they must be training. And if they are training, then they must have a reason for it.

He sees the two people that seem to be the leaders of the group. An average looking man with Fire Powers and a tall but thin man with Ice Powers.

He decides to look them up on the Bat-Computer, after Stalking them and getting a glimpse of their faces.

The Fire Guy looks like he had led a perfectly normal life, a little too normal in his opinion. He must be hiding something, this was obviously a fake profile. It was too clean. (this was actually because he didn’t want to be noticed for his powers, so he tried to keep under the radar as much as possible his whole life)

The Ice Guy was more interesting. He comes from a small town out in Illinois, and moved to Gotham for a job. His parents are registered as People of Interest in the Bat-Computer for their research into other dimensions, and they seem to lean a bit too far in the Mad side of Mad Scientists. He must be the one supplying their weapons.

There’s also some interesting reports from his hometown, a large amount of Powerful Metahuman Villains who recently stopped attacking the city and started living there peacefully. Even the Mad Scientists, who once proclaimed that they would skin the villains alive, had changed their Tune and started advocating for the Villains rehabilitation. Something was definitely up with the Ice Guy.

Robin doesn’t report this to his Father just yet. He only just recently joined the Bat-Family a few months ago, he’s still 10, and he really wants to prove himself by taking down an extremely dangerous Metahuman Villain Group by himself. Maybe his father would cement him as his one true heir then?

He decides to get creative. He can’t defeat all those villains by himself in a straight fight, and he knows picking them off one by one would put them on edge, but maybe he could...outsource their destruction.

He anonymously contacts the Rouge in the area that the Warehouse was in, and tells them that a group of Metas was going to try and take them over soon. He hopes that the villains will just kill each other, and he could pick off the leftovers. It would be two birds for the price of one, taking down both of the Villainous organizations at once and leaving him the sole victor.

The night he initiates the plan, he returns to the cave to rest for a few hours before he can go back out to deal with the leftovers.

Then Batman rushes in, yelling that they needed all hands on deck. Apparently a Civilian Assembly that he was in contact with was under attack by a Villain Organization. He and Robin rush out to help, but the closer they get, the more Robin realizes they are heading in the direction of the Metahuman Villain Group.

Did they make their move? Tonight of all nights? He had perfectly set up a situation where he could get all the credit, but now it was all going to collapse because he didn’t anticipate that they would make their move so early!

They get to the Assembly and see the two different Villain Groups battling. The Civilians must have been caught in the crossfire! He had caused this hadn’t he? (more than he knew)

He decides to take action, and defeat the biggest threats on the field. That of course, meant taking out the most powerful Metahumans in the battle. He goes for the second Leader, the one with Fire Powers, and knocks him out.

Before he can move on, one of his brothers calls out “Robin! What are you doing! Those are the civilians!”

By the time the battle is over, and the Villains have been repelled, Robin has realized what happened. The Civilian Assembly that was being attacked was the Villain Group that he had set up.

Of Course Batman would have known about the gathering of Meta-Humans in his City. He had met up with them months ago and made a deal with them to protect them in return for keeping their head down.

Thankfully nobody had been hurt to badly in the attack, and the Metas with healing powers could fix up most of the damage, but now that one Villain Organization knew about them, every single other one would know within a week. Their little slice of Heaven had been taken from them.

Danny is happy that none of their Masks were taken off or ripped, so none of the Villains will be able to see their faces, but they would need a new location if they ever decided to do in-person meetings again.

If they ever felt anywhere near "safe" again.

Basically, Damian f#cked up...

[winters-secret-star-wars-blog]

When The Light Comes From The Dark

Summary:

Against the whirlwind of thoughts, Phee’s voice repeated the question. “Got a name, Brown Eyes?”

The cockpit spun around him. His fingers lightly touched his helmet around his eyes, as if to adjust something on them. “Tech.”

Another phantom touch on his shoulder, warm and gentle. “Head to these coordinates, Brown Eyes.”

He needed to find out more.

~~~

Or the one where CX-2 is actually Tech and everyone deserves their happy ending.

Word count: 4213

AO3 link

“You chose the wrong side,” was all he said before he submerged the clone under the water. From behind his mask, he watched as his struggles began to cease. It served him right. Traitors who turned their back on the Empire deserved nothing less.

The hands peppering the assassin’s arms slid below the surface as well. It wouldn’t be long now. Once CT-9904 stopped moving, he would resume pursuing the target and bring her—

Someone was behind him.

CX-2’s mind always worked fast; a trait he was secretly proud of. Although he shouldn’t have been. Such display of individuality was unbecoming of someone like him. However, it was in his nature. It provided him with a valuable advantage.

Well, at least most of the time.

It were instances like this that drove him to frustration. His mind being able to pick up something, yet his body was too slow to react. And what was worse, he made a mistake. It was foolish of him to think the others would leave their own behind, he assumed no one would be coming—

“Better late than dead, I always say.”

The woman’s words were the last thing flashing through his mind before the world turned dark.

He came to as his body collided with the rocks at the bottom. Aware of the water filling his lungs, he suppressed the urge to cough and began to swim towards the surface. Painstakingly, CX-2 heaved his body onto the rocky bank and allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.

“Ace? Ace, wake up.”

He startled awake, unaware of the fact he was starting to drift off. The phantom feeling of someone shaking him faded back to where it came from.

Ace…

There was a strange familiarity tied to the way it was spoken, stirring something in his chest. He was aware the clones were naming themselves instead of going by their designated number, this however… Ace. Was he… was he going by ace before becoming CX-2? It didn’t feel quite right, but at the same time it didn’t feel wrong either.

“Got a name, Brown Eyes?”

He sucked in a breath. It was the same voice from before. The answer to the mysterious woman’s question was at the tip of his tongue, yet it refused to come through.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was CX-2 and that was all that mattered. The target might have escaped, but some of the luck was on his side at least. He could very well imagine the consequences of thinking such thoughts.

With one last steadying breath, CX-2 pushed himself to his feet and headed for his shuttle.

Tracking down the Trnadoshan wasn’t all that difficult. One would think that after dealing with the Empire and selling the rogue clones out, she’d have enough brains to disappear off the radar.

Yet she stayed in her shady little bar.

The Trandoshan’s unwillingness to give up any other information could be considered remarkable, if only it didn’t stir something in CX-2’s chest. Something dangerously resembling anger.

“Hey, you three. You could have walked away. That loyalty is admirable, but with Cid, it doesn’t always go both ways. Watch your backs.”  

It happened again. The more time CX-2 spent activated outside his chamber, the more these little voices whispered to him somewhere from beyond his reach. Bits of conversations, sometimes even a quick flash of some place or another where he, to his knowledge, hasn’t been before.

This time, the voice whispered a warning. Something told him it didn’t come from what you would call a trustworthy source, but the words rang true. The emotion that was most definitely anger was, strangely enough, burning not on his own behalf, but on someone else’s.

“Remember our mutually beneficial arrangements, and how well we know one another, if you know what I mean. You’d do well to not assume I am just threatening you boys.”

She betrayed them, although he couldn’t determine who ‘them’ was.

In one swift motion, he took out his vibroblade and plunged it into the bar counter. The Trandoshan – Cid – flinched. Her eyes roamed around the bar for help that wasn’t there. The two patrons fled the moment they recognized him as a part of the Empire, although not before sending the bar owner a disgusted look.

“It would be wise to start talking now,” CX-2 said. At her hesitation, he continued. “You didn’t seem to mind selling them out for a quick credit before. Why the hesitation?”

Cid silently turned her head away in shame.

In the end, it didn’t take that much force before she was spilling again, and CX-2 left Ord Mantell with a name of a pirate that’s been in contact with the target.

“She’s not a pirate. She’s a liberator of ancient wonders.”

This particular whisper caused him to exhale through his nose sharper than usual. It could almost resemble a chuckle. That was dangerous. It was a good thing he was yet again alone, as he wasn’t sure he would be able to mask it.

Still, what a strange reaction.

The comm on his ship beeped. It was time to report his findings.

The woman had remarkably good instincts. Even without hearing the alarm, she sensed something wasn’t right and pulled out her knife as she approached the ramp. She even gave the hangar one last sweep before boarding. He kept observing her until she boarded the ship and the door closed behind her. Only then he moved.

In a corner of his soul, he was grateful for the droid’s intervention. He would hate it if he had to hurt her—

He stopped going over the data he pulled from her navicomputer, stunned by his own thoughts. He’d hate to hurt her? That was hardly the proper terminology. He was meant to think eliminate, no?

“Got a name, Brown Eyes?”

There it was again, that same whisper. There have been many, but this was the only one that repeated with a certain frequency. He couldn’t figure out why it was so. CX-2 was aware of the fact he was a clone, so what was so special about it? The phenotypic eye color for all clones was brown. And while he was different from the rest, iris pigmentation was not affected by his mutation—

“Aren’t clones supposed to look alike? So much for quality control.”

“She’s not a pirate. She’s a liberator of ancient wonders.”

“Heh. Looks like you have some competition.”

Sounds of wooden classes dully clicking against each other. The sun setting and the lights coming on, resembling stars in the sky.

“Got a name, Brown Eyes?”

He sucked in a breath.

Phee.

Of course, he learned her name from the Trandoshan, but that was Phee.  They… knew each other. It was a mere feeling, and he was a logical person after all, but he knew it to be true! She knew him… and the traitors… no… brothers… and the target… little sister who was technically older…

Against the whirlwind of thoughts, Phee’s voice repeated the question. “Got a name, Brown Eyes?”

The cockpit spun around him. His fingers lightly touched his helmet around his eyes, as if to adjust something on them. “Tech.”

Another phantom touch on his shoulder, warm and gentle. “Head to these coordinates, Brown Eyes.”

He needed to find out more.

Reluctantly, he punched the comm button. It would be suspicious if he suddenly went radio-silent.

He found them near the Archium. The name of the structure came to him out of nowhere, like many things did recently. The sense of familiarity the place invoked in him set something off in his very core. CX-2 pushed it asked and pressed a button on his arm.

“Report.”

“I’ve got eyes on the target.”

“Ground them and wait for the division. She must be recovered unharmed! No mistakes this time!”

“And the clones she’s with?”

“If they get in your way, eliminate them.”

CX-2 gripped his rifle. He’d have to make sure they wouldn’t get in his way.

No matter what.

The following hour passed by in an odd hazy blur as two unseen forces battled inside of him. On one hand, there was the need to follow orders. He blew up the ship. He gave the order to destroy every ship and skiff to cut any possible escape route off. He was even ready to give the order to burn the entire island to the ground.

But on the other hand…

He could’ve shot the rogue clone, or blow him up along with the ship, it would have been easier. So why didn’t he? He was meticulous about everything he did. Then why did it appear like he gave the clone enough time to escape the explosion?

“I like to blow things up,” the whisper paused before it rose in volume, “because I like to blow things up!”

At the sight of the ship burning, something screamed inside of him and didn’t stop. It blended with the screams of the civilians fleeing the soldiers. Then there was the attempt to commandeer one of their ships, and he couldn’t bring himself to shoot the clone.

Instead, he shot the pilot.

Usually, the crash would kill anyone on board, but for some reason, deep down CX-2 knew better.

He’d told the mayor he could do worse.

Then why was it impossible for him to do so?

Stars, he even lied to the soldiers he’d neutralized the two when the girl surrendered herself. It was like his body was running on autopilot, mouth detached from the brain.

Clearly, it was naïve of him to expect to find answers here. In the end, he was left only with more questions.

CX-2 escorted the girl to the ship, taking note of the look she threw over her shoulder before he made her move again, and set coordinates back to Tantiss. It wasn’t until the ship shuddered as it jumped into the hyperspace that he heard a quiet sniff.

He chanced a look over his shoulder to find the target hunched in on herself, a single tear running down her cheek.

And that’s when the haze broke and everything became clear.

“We’re a family. Aren’t we?”

“Well, uh, yes. Yes, of course we are.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

But he did.

“I may have process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean I feel any less than you.”

His grip on the controls turned white, hidden by the black gloves.

“They call him Tech.”

A good-natured shove followed. “Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours.”

He would do anything for his family.

“We have not always agreed with Crosshair, but he still is our brother. We do not leave our own behind.”

They were going to get their brother back. They were going to be a complete family again, they were so close—

“When have we ever followed orders?”

Tech felt nauseous.  

What had he done?

Running through every possible scenario, he concluded there was no way out of this. If it was a possibility, contacting Echo would be his best bet if he was still with Rex, seeing as he blew up his own ship and cut his brothers off, but the shuttle’s comms were monitored. The imperials would know immediately if he attempted an unauthorized transmission.

Then there was the matter of his internal homing device. He had no means to remove it from his body safely, so even if he changed the coordinates, Hemlock would keep sending other operatives after them until he succeeded at recapturing them again.

Something told Tech he would not be making it out of that situation alive.

And lastly, there was Omega. He couldn’t tell how much time has passed since Eriadu, but judging by her hair, it must have been months. She had an air of maturity around her, but there was a part of her that was easily excitable. It was impossible to tell if she would be able to keep up the ruse if he revealed himself.

Tech couldn’t risk that. Still, it didn’t stop the decision from eating away at him all the way to Tantiss.

Omega eventually fell into restless sleep, and he took the chance to remove the suicide capsule from his mouth.

There was no turning back now. Hemlock was awaiting their arrival and there was nothing Tech could do. As much as it pained him, he gave his little-big sister a slight shove to keep the appearances.

Then he was dismissed.

As the stasis chamber closed on him, he hoped his brothers would come up with a plan to find her.

Find them.

The base was a mess.

Tech categorized anything he could on his way to intercept his brothers. To a certain degree, he was glad for the initial haze the stasis chamber has left him in, as he was uncertain how he would react to their orders if he was fully himself right away. This way, however, he remained undetected.

Positioned at the vantage point with the rest of the operatives, he spotted his brothers sneaking in through the rubble. He couldn’t help but notice their armor stripped of all color.

It was like before their first ever mission.

Chasing nostalgia away, he took out his rifle and aimed before any other operative could beat him to it. He aimed at Hunter and pulled the trigger, knowing his brother would be able to dodge. It was the most subtle way to alert his squad to their presence.

Then all hell broke loose.

Crosshair watched as the other assassins passed a blade between each other. The one who nearly drowned him on Teth let the blade hover over his wrist before it was raised high into the air.

“You should be more careful with your shooting hand.”

The horror inside of him intensified as he became aware of the assassin’s intention. Time seemed to slow down with the blade’s descend.

Except the pain never came.

The blade suddenly changed the trajectory and was sent flying right at the assassin electrocuting Wrecker nearby. The throw was precise. The assassin’s grip on the staff loosened as he fell, the blade plunging even deeper into the gap in the armor when his body hit the ground.

The foot pinning his wrist to the ground disappeared as the one standing over him shifted his stance, took out his rifle in one swift motion and with no hesitation shot the one who owned the knife. The one who was previously attacking Hunter and Wrecker before being stunned by Crosshair’s explosive shot had barely a second to react before he found himself with a hole in the chest too.

Shocked, Crosshair looked up the last assassin, their gazes meeting.

“I mean it.” The tone switched from menacing to more nonchalant and matter-of-factly. “You really should be more careful, Crosshair.”

Too stunned to speak, Crosshair could only blink. The voice-changer was still active, but the intonation almost reminded him of…

The assassin removed his helmet.

“Tech,” he breathed out in disbelief.

Tech reached out his hand and Crosshair allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “My apologies. I was waiting for the right time, and in the meantime, I had to avoid suspicion.”

It was impossible. His brother who died on Eriadu after carrying out Plan 99 was standing in front of him, alive. Although in imperial gear. “How—“ Crosshair forced out a single word, but before he could force the rest of the sentence out, Tech was suddenly off his feet in one of Wrecker’s famous bone-crushing hugs.

“Ah, it’s… good to see you too, Wrecker,” Tech wheezed out. The only response he got was a sob.

“All right, Wrecker, put him down before you squeeze the living lights out of him,” Crosshair said.

After a few more sniffs and being convinced Tech was indeed real and alive and not a fragment of his imagination, Wrecker did so. It was obvious he wanted to ask the same question as Crosshair, but changed his mind last minute and instead shoved their brother. “Don’t you ever dare to do something like that ever again, you hear?!”

Tech’s mouth opened, a retort no doubt on the tip of his tongue, when a groan coming from a nearby rubble cut him off. They all spun on their heels immediately and rushed to their leader. While he and Wrecker worked on getting the debris off Hunter, Tech hovered over him, scanning for injuries.

Hunter blinked the daze away, meeting his now-alive brother’s eyes. He then clocked his other two brothers and sighed. “We’re dead, aren’t we.”

“No,” Tech replied. “Although, you came close quite a few times. We… all did.”

The implication hung heavily in the air, but they all knew this wasn’t the time or place to demand answers.

“Later,” Tech promised. “Now,” he motioned to the burning base, “Echo or Omega?”

“Take a guess,” Crosshair replied.

After a moment, Tech nodded to himself. “Omega.”

“I never took you for a sniper rifle type,” Hunter filled in the silence as they ran through the base in search for Omega. “It’s more of Crosshair’s thing.”

“I am not,” Tech replied, “but they didn’t exactly ask me what my preferences were.”

Crosshair wordlessly held out his blaster. Tech, appreciating the offering, took the sniper rifle off his back and swapped it.

They met with Echo and Omega and all the freed clones near the detention block.

At last, Tech allowed himself to fall to his knees and spread his arms in anticipation of Omega’s hug. He was never too big on physical contact, but this time, it was a necessity. For both of them.

“I’m sorry. Omega. I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s not your fault,” Omega pulled back and placed her hands on his cheeks. “They made you do it.”

Omega was always observant. Helmet or not, his attire remained the same, so it should be no wonder she connected the dots. He wanted to protest, but she was having none of it. She wiped her tears, her eyes sparked with determination.

“Let’s make him pay.”

They surrounded Hemlock on a bridge outside. He was a far cry from his usual put-together look, with his hair being a mess and a crazed look in his eyes.

He lost.

Tech could sense the thirst for revenge from all around him.

Hemlock turned to look at him, their gazes locked.

“You,” he hissed. “How did you—“ he cut himself off.

“You sound surprised,” Tech stated. “It should have been obvious after you failed with Crosshair. I might have been more susceptible due to my injuries after the fall, but you should have known it wouldn’t last. We’re deviant after all. It’s in our nature.”

The crazed look intensified. “We’ll see about that. You’ve been compromised!” he yelled. “Eliminate yourself right no—“

It was Crosshair who broke the tension with the first shot right to Hemlock’s chest.

His hand didn’t shake.

The chain reaction was instant. All freed clones carrying a weapon aimed and shot and shot and shot until the force of the bolts sent Hemlock’s body over the railing into the jungle below.

Tech watched with cold detachment. This time, he was certain. There was no surviving that.

Several pairs of eyes turned to him. He blinked, snapping back to reality. “Your worries are unwarranted. I already removed my suicide capsule.”

Hunter huffed a laugh. “Of course you have.”

It hasn’t been easy readjusting to normal life after everything they’ve been through. Then again, they were never normal.

Tech already lost track of how many times he woke up screaming when the nightmares of Tantiss plagued him in the middle of the night. Thankfully, the comfort was never far. It came either in a form of a mere presence and reassuring words of his brothers and sister, an embrace from Phee, or the weight of the Lurca hound named Batcher Omega tamed and took with her the first time she escaped Tantiss.

At first, he’d been wary, but he came to care for the creature.

Some days were good. Some days the shame of what he’d done as Empire’s assassin weighted heavy on him. Shep’s words were true once again; the people of Pabu were resilient and rebuilt the damage he was responsible for after the imperial forces left.

It… wasn’t very comforting.

During those days, talking about it with Echo helped, since he was the most familiar with the feeling. He hid it well, but the time he’d spent on Skako Minor as The Algorithm responsible for countless of his brothers’ lives weighted heavy on him too.

Crosshair was a great help too. As Hunter said before the mission where they’d saved Echo, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but Tech was content sitting with him in silence, the quiet understanding surrounding them.

However, he wasn’t the only one affected.

It was hard to not notice the look of guilt Wrecker was watching him with from afar, even though he had nothing to be guilty of. It was Tech’s own decision to resort to Plan 99. He even said so out loud, but he knew it would take Wrecker a long time to accept it, if ever.

There were also those worried looks every time he was somewhere more elevated or was walking next to the railing when they were going to the docks. In the first case, they watched him like hawks, ready to jump at the slightest sign of trouble – even if he was only four feet off the ground. In the second case, someone always subtly-not-so-subtly wedged themselves between him and the railing. Omega rushing into various rooms with fear in her eyes only for it to disappear when she spotted him also became a regular occurrence.

He learned the hard way not to disappear on the bad days for too long after she broke down near the cave where he sought the solitude. Apparently, he’d been gone for hours and nobody could find him at any of his usual places.

And Phee…

When their ship touched back down on Pabu, she was already there, waiting for him. The moment his feet touched the ground, he found himself in yet another embrace. There was no hesitation on Tech’s side and he pulled her close.

“I’m glad you kept your word and haven’t run off with any other pirate or smuggler,” she said.

Tech didn’t comment on how her voice was thick with emotion. Instead, he opted for a simple: “I’m here now.”

Phee chuckled. “Better late than dead, I always say.”

“—you always say,” he said the last part in union. “You know, those were the exact words that began the process of breaking the conditioning.”

“Were they now?” she asked, intrigued. “Well, I’m glad I was able to help.”

Tech smiled. “You helped more than you realize.”

Phee hummed, and before Tech realized what was happening, there were lips pressing against his. They were gone as fast as they appeared, but the fluttering in his stomach remained. “Now come on,” she turned around and began to walk away, “let’s get all your friends settled.”

He blinked after her retreating form until a choked chuckle broke his trance. “What?” He saw his squad – his family – huddled together with various looks on their faces.

Wrecker was giving him two enthusiastic thumbs up, Hunter was smiling, Echo was also smiling but more smugly, Crosshair looked like he would be rather anywhere than here, and Omega was chuckling, her palms pressed against her lower face.

“Tech, you’re blushing,” she said, mirth lacing her voice.

“I guess it was inevitable,” Crosshair commented. “You two were made for each other. She flies like a maniac too.”

There was a story behind it, but for another time.

So, yes, readjusting hasn’t been easy, but they managed. They understood when Echo eventually joined Rex again, but the rest of them remained on Pabu. As civilians.

While his brothers took up work in the docks – Wrecker especially enjoyed his time on the sea –, Tech found meaning and joy in teaching the next generation all his skills. It took others two standard years before they allowed him to strike a deal with a person on another junkyard planet in the Outer Rim for him to take his apprentices there to practice their skills.

The agreement was way more mutually beneficial than the one with Cid. The junkyard owners got to sell whatever they fixed and gave them a portion of the profit, or if they managed to fix something they deemed unsalvageable, they got to keep it.

Even then, he wasn’t alone. Phee was always accompanying his group, not that he minded.

“You never know,” she shrugged as she boarded, “there might be a treasure there,” she said, winking at Omega.

But most importantly, Omega finally for to have a normal childhood. They watched their little-big sister grow up until it was time for her to go on her own journey. As he sat on the porch of his and Phee’s own home watching the ship fly off into the night, only one thing was on his mind:

In the end, it was all worth it.

[cerealkiddie]

carer!hitoshi shinso headcanons

u don't understand. I need 2 get mi thoughts out. anyway he's literally carer coded.

sleepy carer, doesn't even need to take naps just enjoys resting and bein comfy

my boy loves his coffee, the type to say 'yeah, you won't like this kiddo, it's a grown up drink.' and it's coffee and cream. no sugar. he doesn't strike me as a black coffee person

being a caregiver helps him calm down/destress. as much as regressing helps u, caregiving helps him! plus he just likes it. it's different when ur looking after urself and someone else

likes touch, whether it's holding ur hand, biting u, laying his head on u, holding you or cuddling w u, he loves it all

a little bit of a gamer, if u play games urself he'll learn quick if u need a player 2 (likes hand held consoles; Nintendo 3ds. Gameboy, psp, etc.)

he has a preference for taking care of younger babs (0-2) and more independent older ones. (5-8)

fav activity to do with his kiddo is moon gazing and talking walks around the neighborhood (ones he knows have cats)

he even takes treats on ur weekly cat walks.. the cats know when he comes, they have a shinso radar.

would definitely like to care for a cat regressor. omg all the little toys he's spoil you with. he loves brushing ur hair n ears. would let you mess w his hair if u like :3

museum kinda guy, deffo would have a record for how many times he visited the air & space museum in a month.

sucker for gifts shops n trinkets. he is a guy that loves things. can't say no to a little object.

another thing he loves is reading to his kiddo, classics or even baby books his voice is perfect for stories.

ddlg/abdl/nsfw/variants dni! add any of ur own headcanons in the comments or reblogs ! post belongs to me ☆

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I LOVED what you wrote for the dutch's daughter!reader fic. I know you said you wanted a bit of variety in the requests, so you can ignore this one for a little while if you want. Would you be able to expand on their relationship a bit more, and maybe do a scenario where the reader is washing up away from camp, perhaps at Flat Iron Lake (when they moved camp to Clemen's Point) in the evening, and Arthur "stumbles" upon her (he was lowkey watching her), joins her, and fucks her whilst suspended in the water. After they finish, he has to duck down behind her because Dutch walks up to check on her since she was taking a long time, and they nearly get caught.

Getting caught stirred Arthur on more, and after Dutch walks off, he has to take her again because he has such an adrenaline rush :)'''

The Passion Of Lovers (Part 2)

(Arthur Morgan x Dutch’s Daughter!Reader Smut)

Warnings: smut

In spite of your father’s imperiousness, you sought cracked pleasures. There was only so much contentment money could bring, and your other needs began to come into question. Being surveilled in camp 24/7 turned you into quite the sly individual, that combined with the fact that you were Dutch’s daughter, and you could witness firsthand his own connivingness. You in turn became very skilled at sneaking and lying; an inherited sixth sense that would backfire on Dutch time and time again. Your humor attracted the lucky bad type, never quite breaking your heart in the process. You were meticulously careful in all your sordid affairs, making sure your father knew not too much; and knew exactly what you wanted him to know. Though you never did view your relationship with Arthur as something to be ashamed of or worth hiding; in fact, the chances of anyone else in camp besides your father finding your relationship to be disreputable were extremely low. But the two of you were smart enough to know that if you had decided to confide in your most trusted peers, it would somehow, inevitably get back to Dutch. 

You didn’t even want to ponder on the possibility of what would happen if your father found out. There’d be a strange rift in camp; like a burdensome wrinkle that you can’t quite iron out no matter how many times you go over it, no matter how much heat you apply. The tension would be palpable; would Dutch argue with Arthur? Would he force him to break up with you? If so, would he change his mind once he saw how ruined you were because of it? Part of you felt a sick satisfaction out of imagining your father’s guilty face once he saw how heartbroken you were. A pleasure in pain. 

Your mornings begun fairly early; you’d awake at around 5 AM, a feverish anticipation for the day stirring in your joints as you became restless, giggling quietly to yourself as to not wake your father, as you imagined yourself venturing off into town with Arthur in an impromptu date, or sneaking a kiss or two just outside camp out of the view of any watch guards. Subtly pushing up against one another, blowing each other's circuitry while disguising it with the confusion of blithe laughter and small talk funneled into each other's ears with moist, anticipatory lips. Of course, before drawing any suspicion to yourselves, you’d look off to the side with an idle stare that suggested nothing was happening between you two, that this was entirely casual, that neither of you had meant to have you press your ass up against Arthur’s eager crotch while hurriedly passing each other in a cramped area. 

Perhaps your flirtations over time had become imprudent. Caring less and less about keeping them away from camp, finding some sort of exhilaration in the risk that came with doing so in such a widely observable area. Your coquetry bordering on the edge of just enough to keep it safe and fun, and pushing the boundaries of what would fly under Dutch’s radar. 

Though like many of your mornings, you began your day by heading towards the campfire to eat some stew. You’d then indulge in a cup of coffee, sipping the drink with an eerie smile on your face while you stared off over Flatiron Lake, something no one would comment on out of politeness. If chance allowed it, you’d sneak over to Arthur’s tent and share a few hurried kisses before anyone else awoke. Though whilst the morning was still breaking in from night, you’d venture into the lake for a quick bath in preparation for the day’s events. You used only the most expensive shampoos and fragrances which you’d use modestly; the scents potent enough for them to last throughout the day. You had hoped the fragrance would absorb into your skin, wanting to smell as though you were some readily edible treat. A treat that Arthur could merely observe behind a viewing glass as long as the two of you were in camp; and if he so much as dared to reach for the confection, his wrist would be slapped away hastily. 

You dressed yourself with some of the finest clothing you had picked out yourself provided your father’s money, and by the time you returned to camp from the lake, more than half the camp was bustling with life. You’d greet each member in passing, careful not to put too much interest in your greeting towards Arthur as you stood next to him by the campfire.

“I’m going into town today? Ride with me?” Your question was innocent enough, but the corners of your mouth twitched at the innuendos underlining it. ‘Of course, I ALWAYS wanna ride.’ seemed to be a shared thought between the two of you as you both took a moment to clear your throats. 

“Of course, (Name). What errands you running today?” He’d ask. 

You’d shrug nonchalantly, unsure of what tribute to your sizable allowance you’d buy this time. “Was thinking of some clothes. Nothing specific in mind but I just wanna look around.” You disguised your burgeoning smile by sipping another mug of coffee you had poured yourself. Arthur nodded before looking off pensively, as if he were going through some mental archive he had of all the clothes he wanted to see you in. 

It was routine to walk towards your father’s tent, to inform him of your departure from camp for a few hours to do some errands, and without looking up from whatever book he was engrossed in, unable to see your excitement, he’d beckon Arthur forth, instructing him to accompany you into town. It was only then that he’d look up at Arthur with a threatening gaze, telling him to take good care of you.

And good care he took of you. You weren’t made aware of any leering gazes, as Arthur had effectively scared any men off. He held your arm as you walked, whispering the occasional compliment about how amazing you looked. He’d bury his head in your hair, taking in deep inhales as he reveled in the fragrant scent and softness of your hair. 

The occasional stray touch would indicate your excitement; a hand sliding too far up one another’s thighs as if in search of the pulsing heat the other longed for. You and Arthur appraised how well a clothing piece would compliment you. A sensually inquisitive hand would adjust your collar, lingering on your pulse before pulling away, a small brushing of your breast preceding a more firm squeeze, a hand on your back that would impishly slide down to the curve of your ass before delivering a playful spank or clutch. 

By the time you two returned to camp, you were concupiscent, at the boiling points of your arousal. Before entering the path towards camp the two of you would swap saliva, hungry tongues exploring as you groped each other ardently. Sometimes coitus was not an option on the table, restrained by the limits of time and curfews. You two would adopt the facade of friends well acquainted simply returning from a day out on the town; walking into camp while your bodies were still in stages of lingering arousal. From where you stood next to Arthur, you’d be able to watch as Arthur gingerly ran his exposed palm over himself and adjusted his pants, his shame and caution taking control over his half-inflated genitals. 

You’d continue the rest of your day with chronic arousal, briefly glancing over towards Arthur and granting him a knowing gaze. It said ‘I know you’re dying to touch me right now, and you’ll be able to soon.’ 

You’d set down whatever book you were reading, gathering your night garbs and expensive soaps and lotions before heading off towards an isolated part of the lake for your second bath of the day; an inviting air surrounding you. Arthur would perk up in his cot, as if someone had suddenly called his name with unbridled urgency. Before long he’d feel excitement stirring in his loins at the thought of watching you bathe, and would feign composure as he sat up in his cot, accentuating just how ‘non-excited’ he was by stretching out his limbs and sighing, before hurriedly walking off towards the woods bordering the lake. He’d loop around the path to make sure no one was watching him, whistling for his horse so no one would question his whereabouts without his horse to follow. He’d tie his steed to a tree trunk, before venturing into the trees himself. 

He saw the horizon over the lake, the sky tinged with lavender and dark purple as day transitioned to night. His eyes scanned the lake desperately for signs of your body. He walked along the edge of the woods, eventually spotting your pile of clothes left on a boulder. He traced his eyes up from the pile and towards the lake, where he saw your naked body contrasting against the darkness of the water and the sky. The water blocked him from viewing your pelvis or legs, but your breasts and hardened nipples were in full view, gleaming from the moonlight shining on them. Arthur leaned his back on a nearby tree, as if he were getting comfortable for a show he had traveled various lengths for, finally able to enjoy what he came for. 

He watched as you clutched the slippery bar of pink soap in your hand, lathing it over your skin with careful precision as to not drop the bar. As if you were reading Arthur’s mind, you smeared the bar over and in between your breasts, glazing your skin in a soapy film before taking your hands and frothing the suds. You ran your hands down your sides sensually, lifting your legs from the water to lather the skin there too. As you did so, your crotch came into view. Arthur’s chest heaved in excitement, and he began palming his cock through the front of his jeans. The applied pressure caused him to groan silently, and his hands gained a mind of their own as he began unbuckling his belt and undoing the front of his jeans. 

Before he could pull his cock out, he made eye contact with you; and rather than being chastised and branded a creep for watching you, you giggled and turned to face him fully from the water. 

“Hey, Arthur!” You called from the water. You waved your hands towards you, motioning for him to come to you. “Get in! Water feels real nice!” You waved the soap bar in the air now, suggesting you could give him a cleaning of his own; a cleaning that would more than likely turn into something more. 

He held the demeanor of a kid flying down the stairs of his two story home on christmas morning, bee lining towards the gifts under the tree. He stood next to the boulder where your clothes lay, depositing the fabrics hastily behind the rock out of view in the possibility that someone stumbles across you two. You licked your lips in excitement as you watched him undress, drinking in every detail of his body and making a special note of his half erect cock. He dipped his body below the water’s surface to begin soaking his body in preparation for your cleaning. You took him in with open arms, feeling the way his chest vibrated in a satisfied hum as he felt your soapy breasts up against his torso.

“Were you watching meee?” You drew out the syllable playfully, playing with the hair on his chest as you looked up at him. His arms slid under yours and around your waist with ease, pulling you impossibly closer against him. He reveled in the way your breasts pressed and slid against him, and you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. 

“Maybe.” He responded humorously. 

“Do you want me to clean you?” You raised the bar into view again, waving it. 

“As long as you’re touching me, I don’t care what you do woman.” He gave your ass a playful spank as you dipped the bar into the lake water, rubbing your hand on it in a way that made Arthur’s cock twitch once again. Once you produced enough suds, you began rubbing it all over Arthur’s chest and shoulders, working the foam into his skin in hopes he’d smell as good as you. Arthur hummed in delight, thinking nonchalantly about what excuse he’d use when asked why he smelled like you, and he’d claim he had treated himself to some soap, and in his ignorance for what was best, trusted your judgment and ended up buying the same one as you. 

You arms massaged his firm muscles in the process, squeezing before moving onto the next fiber group. Your hands moved around towards his back, in awe of the expansive size of his wide set shoulders and formed rhomboid, which you took extra care in massaging. He groaned in satisfaction as your lithe hands pressed against him, and before long you dropped all innocent pretenses, handing the bar of soap to him before gripping the base of his cock, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking it vigorously. Arthur released a sigh of satisfaction, tipping his head back as a string of moans and curses followed. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” You confessed, eyes trained on the way the tip of his cock bobbed with each movement. Your right arm rose and fell in repetitive motions, tugging against his crotch. 

"Fuck… what if your dad catches us?" Arthur groaned, leaning his pelvis towards you as if you were pulling him along by his cock. Your dad. The way Arthur referred to him not by Dutch but as your dad added a layer of scandalousness to the situation that made it all the more better. 

"Well then, you hide." You answered bluntly, stopping to smother his tip with your thumb. Arthur discarded the thought, lathering up his hands before cupping your breasts and rubbing them thoroughly. The suds sat on your breasts irresistibly, some of them sliding down over the curves and onto the rest of your body. The skin became equally as slippery, and made the movement of your breasts against one another effortless as Arthur pressed them against one another. He ran his thumbs over your nipples in fascination, delivering the occasional slap before going back to squeezing them. 

The display was theatrical for Arthur, but you soon grew far too needy. Not to mention the growing urgency of time restraints; your father's apprehensiveness over your well being when you took too long to do certain things drove him to look for you, and even during something as intimate as a bath, he found more reason to search for you given your vulnerable state. 

Reaching down you used your fingers to guide his cock into you, making it past the awkward rubbery stage of submerged penetration. All your worries melted away as Arthur speared you on his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck as he bounced you on his pelvis. You threw your heard back in a wanton moan, noticing the beginning of a smattering of stars, but your whole world was soon reduced to hisses and moans, the water of the lake responsive to each thrust, lapping away at your thighs.

You opted to wrapping your legs around Arthur's torso, his hands coming to instinctively cup your ass as he held you up. The movements were hurried, desperate; as though some worldly force would come and ruin this moment for you. You dragged your nails along Arthur back, thin ribbons of blood blossoming forth and leaving a stinging sensation behind for Arthur to revel in. With Arthur supporting your whole weight within his hands and firearms, it allowed you to unwrap your arms from around him and theatrically play with your breasts, making a show of the slippery wet mounds of flesh. 

Before long, you came on Arthur's cock, your juices mixing with the lake water. You had to bite down on your thumb to contain any squeals or moans, bracing yourself for Arthur's own release. He gave you a warning grunt, stilling as he emptied himself inside you in a few deep thrusts. As Arthur slid you off and helped you onto your feet, you groaned in satisfaction. Your crotch was a pool of spent pleasure; the slow drip of Arthur's fluid leaving your body feeling like a deep ache inside you that had finally been remedied. 

"That was fun." You giggled, leaning up to kiss him. The two of you remained there, bathed in moonlight, sharing a few tender kisses and forgetting yourselves; and the time. 

"(Name)!" 

"Shit." You whispered between teeth. You allowed each other a moment of shared disbelief; Arthur looking down at you in horror before jumping into action. You dunked him beneath the water behind you, the increasingly nearing sound of leaves and sticks crunching urging you on. You hoped to God Arthur's lung capacity would be in your favor. You yourself had to lower yourself to neck level to avoid having your father look at you stark naked. Thankfully, as he emerged from the woods, he allowed you the decency of shielding his eyes, only daring occasionally to look between the cracks in his fingers to ensure you were okay. 

"(Name)! There you are! Are you okay? You've uh.. certainly been taking your time today." He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the ground. You followed his eyes down to where they were on the floor, and a cold sense of panic rattled within your rib cage as you realized some of Arthur's clothes were peeking out from around the boulder where your clothes lay. 

"I'm okay, Daddy." You said reassuringly, hoping that would be enough for him to leave you alone. You felt a small tap on your calve, indicating Arthur's breath was running out. A sense of anxiety prickled at your skin in a way that made you restlessly snappy. 

"Alright well, stews ready. And I left a small gift for you by your tent, and—"

"Okay! Thank you Daddy! Now please let me finish." Your eye twitched in aggravation, thanking the Lord your father couldn't see your face. He bid you farewell, and you watched as his back disappeared into the woods. You waited a few more seconds until he was out of earshot, Arthur's tapping on your leg had now turned into a firm squeeze. You pulled Arthur up by the shoulders, feeling as though Arthur were sucking in a deep breath for the both of you. You both caught your breath, reveling in the success of your veiled debauchery. 

“I can’t believe we pulled that off!” You laughed breathlessly, slapping one of Arthur’s pectorals. He nodded and laughed along.

“If Dutch spoke any longer I would’ve drowned.” He took one last deep breath before evening out his breathing. “And uh… it was quite exciting.” 

You nodded, tracing your eyes down and noticing he was no longer flaccid, he was hard once again. The two of you exchanged sensuous glances, before Arthur gingerly slid his hands beneath your armpits and picked you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a kittenish moan at being penetrated again. The silence of the lake was loud again.

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The Passion Of Lovers - Bauhaus

[tojisbbygworl]

Know Your Place - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader x Cuck!Miguel O’Hara

Unbeknownst to him, the affair between you and Hobie did not go under your husband’s radar

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Smutttttt, Semi-Public sex, Cuckhold, Really from Hobie’s POV, Hobie is 21+, kind of a Threesome, Reader can be any age, but I’m imagining you being slightly older than Hobie at least

author's note: HAIIIII!!! I keep saying 'oh im probably not going to write blah blah blah' and then I think of a story idea like right after that. I have been FEIGNING for a Hobie x reader x Miguel and I didn’t even think that tag existed like come on! People! There's a hole in the market! I'm pretty sure I've only ever read one and it was more Hobie focused and full fledged cheating instead. I can not find it again and I'm gonna lose my mind because of it. Anyway enjoy I hope I made it as raunchy as y'all wanted. (it could always be raunchier)

Also if this kinda plays like an imagine at some point while you’re reading just bare with me. It was an imagine originally but I got too into it.

Part 2

Masterlist

Hobie isn’t sure how things got this way. One day he went from adjusting his pants at HQ and going home to fuck his fist after being in your presence and now he’s watching you ride him while Miguel stands to the side beating his own dick.

It all started a month ago. The conversation began normally, “How’ve ya been, love? Something a miss?” and then you started making all these comments about how much you loved his piercings and how smooth his skin looked with you caressing his hand. He's not one to be startled, but his eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets.

And then you dropped a bomb: your husband (i.e. his boss) was not doing it for you in the bed anymore.

“I know you can give me what I need, Ho-baby,” you had whispered to him. He was nervous admittedly, but then you gave him a sultry smile and he just couldn’t say no.

The both of you snuck around HQ feeling up on each other in every closet, nook, and cranny you could. In a corner, he loved to sink his teeth into your neck and fingers into your cunt humping your side as he revels in your sweet moans.

If you two managed to get a little more space, like a supply closet, he was holding the bottom of his shirt with his teeth with you bent over in front of him. He would roll his eyes back and groan every time you gave him a squeeze. He loved the sound and look of you gushing onto his abs and stubble. Your ass recoiled off of him so deliciously, he always found himself pulling out and cumming all over it with no shortage of curses and grunts.

It was like a drug, the two of you fucking behind Miguel’s back. Hobie could never get enough of it. He adored knowing that big bad Miguel O’Hara was a bad lay. Even if he wasn’t, even if you were actually a sex goddess in disguise, at the very least Hobie was better and if he had an ego, that would fuel it for miles.

If there was one thing Miguel cared about, it was you. He would never admit it, in fact he tries to hide it, but you made him soft. When you were in the debriefing room for a mission, his usually stern tone was careful. He was less tense around you. Hobie even saw him smile once or twice. Only when it was just the two of you with no one else around, then he would hightail it once Miguel noticed him.

It was cute, but if you were Hobie’s, he wouldn’t hesitate showing you off to everyone. As the boss’s wife, you were a pretty big deal around the society. He always wondered if Miguel knew about all the things people say about you. About all the things they want to do to you and your body. All the things Hobie was currently doing and more.

Okay, so maybe he has a bit of an ego.

It’s all the more prevalent when you start being a little more risky with your suggestions. It went from isolated corners and locked rooms to rubbing him at a far off table in the cafeteria to giving you a creampie in the therapist’s chair during his break.

At first, it freaked him out. As much as he loves a risk taker, he didn’t want to get kicked out. And, he would hate for you to get in trouble. But the way you were acting, it seemed as though you weren’t even a little bit concerned about getting caught. So, he chilled out. Actually, he got way more bold.

He's always loved to piss off Miguel, usually to make you laugh which it always did, but now there was some merit behind it. Miguel would walk by an area that Hobie made you cum in the other day and would snicker loudly getting his attention. Or, Miguel would send the both of you on a mission and Hobie would send you back with three more hickies than you had before, all with a shit-eating grin in his face.

He found that he loved looking Miguel in the eye and talking back to him with your pussy still on his breath. He was never the wiser, just slightly more annoyed by his newfound hubris. It made the anxiety all worth it.

This, though? This was way too much.

“Are you taking the piss?” He asked incredulously when you presented your newest place of coitus.

You had the audacity to look at him confused. “What do you mean? What’s the problem?” You ask, your voice echoing off the large and infinite walls of Miguel’s office.

“Listen, babe,” he starts, “You’re proper fit and all that, but I'm not fucking you in my boss's lair."

You pouted, you little minx, and you began to strip off your suit while keeping eye contact with him. Hobie scoffed and chuckled to himself. Of course, only a woman as crazy as you could stand a stick in the mud like Miguel. He looked back at you backing onto the floating platform. You dropped the suit all at once revealing your completely bare body; a habit you picked up from your husband.

Hobie looks back at the large entrance that was now closed and locked, you and Miguel being the only ones with the access code. He turns back around at you who was now sitting in Miguel's large swivel chair smiling and giggling at him and slowly lifting your legs. He shrugs and walks towards you, the platform turning on and lifting when he steps on it.

He freezes in place and stares at you in terror, immediately relaxing when your laughs get a little bit harder and you reveal a small remote from behind you. He looks up to the ceiling saying a silent prayer and continues his trek.

You bite your lip when he reaches you, closing your eyes and humming when he leans over to kiss you. His hand rubs your waist. You sit up and scoot out of the chair making him look at you in confusion. You turn him around and sit him down resuming the kiss.

Like always, the two of you waist no time getting right to it; every second counts when you're having an affair. You pulled off Hobie's shirt and he tugged his pants down, his dick standing straight up and leaking his thick, clear liquid. He beats it for a second while watching you get on your knees. The sight alone is enough to make him moan, more pre cum escaping his dick and gliding down his shaft and fingers.

You lick the drop from his base to his tip. He bites his lip and admires your pretty face as your mouth encloses around him. "Oh, yeah," he whispers watching you bob your head up and down. You twirled your tongue around his head making him jerk his hips. "Ffff-fuck!"

Hobie steady humps into your throat, his mouth hanging slightly, looking at you like a desperate puppy. He thinks about how glad he is that he always follows you wherever you want to go. He admits that the riskier the place, the better it feels. And it helps that neither of you have even gotten close to getting caught.

He starts to do something he's only ever said in his head. "You love sucking on this dick, don't you?" You seemed a bit taken aback, but ultimately, you liked it. You take him out of your mouth and nod your head sweetly going right back in soon after. Hobie takes the back of your neck and pulls you off of him. "Stick out your tongue."

He proceeds to slap his dick onto the pink muscle groaning and biting his lips with each plop. "You like getting slutted out like this? My dick slapping your tongue?" You nod again letting out an "ah-huh" from your open mouth. Hobie grins wildly. "My dick, right? Not his?"

That made you excited. "Yes, baby," is all you can get out before he stuffs himself back into your mouth.

The sounds leaving him are completely incomprehensible. His breathing is staggered, heavy and loud, but not nearly as loud as your mouth as you coat his dick in saliva. He has to put his hand on your shoulder to stop you before he feels like cumming.

He let's out a large and winded breath. You smile up at him, the entire bottom part of your face matching his dick and lap, wet and shiny. He can't wait to put it inside you. He just knows it'll slide right in.

And he was right. In a commanding tone, he grabs his base and tells you to sit on it. Without breaking your smile, you do. He moans louder than you and immediately attaches his hands to your hips. He filled you up so nicely, you could feel him hitting your abdomen. Every time he was full sheathed inside of you, you whined from the bumping sensation.

Hobie, on the other hand, did not stop moaning. He slowly leaned his head backwards to rest on the chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't speak, his mind racked with excited thoughts about what the two of you were doing.

Now he knows, he does have a big ego. Not only does he have a beautiful woman rolling her hips on his dick, desperate to make him cum for her, it's his boss's wife. His boss who he, on the lowest of keys, can't stand and vice versa. And she's riding him in his own office. In his chair.

He hears you begin to pant harder. Then he looks up into your eyes. He holds the contact with you while guiding you through your orgasm. "You want to cum? Yeah? You want to cum on my dick, you fucking slut? What about your husband, huh? How would he feel knowing your getting off on me instead?"

You sighed deeply and slowed down. Hobie could feel you clenching and spilling around him. "That turn you on, baby? Knowing he can't make you feel like this?" You do something he doesn't expect, you smile and giggle. While it's cute, it's a little off-putting. Soon after you look at him and nod again, picking up speed once more.

He sighs and closes his eyes again. His stomach coils and he can feel his release coming soon. "Mmm, mmm, mmm..." He moans.

His bottom lip finds itself under his teeth once more and the only thing he regrets about this moment is how he didn't get a chance to pound you on Miguel's devices. You put a hand on his chest "Baby, look at me~," you beg.

How could he deny you? He opens his eyes only slightly, then they shoot wide at the sight in front of him.

He clammers to get up and opens his mouth to warn you, only to look down and see a hand wrapped around one of your tits. The man's face sits right next to yours with his chin in your neck. He's smirking right at Hobie, red eyes glowing. "She asked you to look at her," says Miguel. "Do it."

"Please~?" You plead. Hobie's eyes shift to you and take everything in. You were still riding him, faster now, with one hand on his own chest and Miguel playing with one of your nipples. He watches his boss lean his head down to kiss your soft neck and leave love bites making you purr like he's never heard before. Hobie looks at your free tit and holds it. His thumb rubs your nipple and he gazes up in adoration at your cries. The ghost of a smile that was about to show up on his face disappears when he makes eye contact with Miguel.

He can not read his face for the life of him. He looks perfectly content; in fact, he was jerking himself off, his thick dick laying over and leaking onto yours and Hobie’s thighs. He humped into his hand not caring that he was hitting his leg too.

The grunts Miguel made were only heard by you. They turned you on even more, making your second orgasm approach quickly. With the way he played with your breasts, all you wanted was for someone to put their mouth on it. "Hobie," you pant. Said man brings his gaze back over to you. "Will you suck on it? Pretty please?"

'This woman is trying to kill me,' he decides. He half expects Miguel to shut down whatever the hell this was, but he doesn't. Instead, he smiles. Genuinely.

"Trying to make me angry, hermosa?" He mutters in your ear. Then you both do something that made Hobie's stomach tingle and twist in lust. Miguel chuckles against your ear with you following suit. You lean your head back and turn it capturing your lips in his. The two of you have a heated make out session on Hobie's dick. Miguel lets go of his dick and grabs your thigh instead. He continues to thrust into the air, slowly now.

You're both moaning into each other's mouths, tongues flying everywhere. It's so erotic, Hobie sits up a bit more and leans his head into your chest encasing your nipple in his wet, hot mouth. It makes you gasp, moving your head from Miguel's leaving him hanging in the air. He watches as you cum for the second time on Hobie. Because of Hobie. With Hobie. He glares at the two of you, his dick harder than ever.

The younger man refuses to lift his head from your chest even as he spills into your pussy. He whines and groans, "Yes, baby..." "That feels so good..." "Keep milking my dick..." He wraps both of his arms around your waist pulling you closer into him. You both come down from your highs panting and staring at each other. You smile at him and lean down to give him a kiss. Hobie accepts it quickly, he rubs your ass and grips it slightly, trying to get you in the mood to kiss him the way you just kissed Miguel. He starts to over stimulate himself by humping into you some more. It works, you start to whimper again and you stick your tongue into his mouth. His pride overwhelms him causing him to say:

"I'll fuck a fucking baby into you..."

Miguel refuses to sit there with his dick in his hands and watch his employee talk about impregnating his wife. Hobie's had his fun, it's time for him to go. Miguel takes his previous spot behind you and leans into your ear, his eyes not leaving Hobie's. "Tell him he has to go."

Hobie blinks at what was just said and looks at you. You're looking as at his lap sheepishly, but there's a mischievous glint in your eye and just the smallest gleam on your face. You look up at him. "You have to go now, Ho-baby."

Miguel growls and grips the back of your neck. “Don’t fucking call him that.” He leans you backwards. "Open your fucking mouth." When you do, he gathers up as much saliva as he can and spits it onto your tongue. "Now kiss him goodbye."

You do as your husband wishes and hold Hobie's chin. Winking at him, you lean down and lick his lips. At first, he doesn't know how to feel, but his heart starts racing and he thinks it won't hurt. After all, Miguel's technically been kissing his dick for a month now, he wouldn't mind swallowing his spit. You're such a good girl, you saved so much of it in your mouth.

You and Hobie proceed to leave each other's faces drenched. You hadn't lifted yourself off of him just yet which he was grateful for. Eventually, the both of you hovered your lips over each other, too stimulated to focus on kissing from the feeling of him growing inside of you. Miguel smirks evilly as he connects with your ear again. "It's time for Hobie to go, mi amor."

He knew if felt good, but he would make you feel even better. And you knew it to. So you slowly lifted yourself off of Hobie. Miguel pulls him up onto his feet and pushes you into the seat, back first. Hobie tries to keep his balance, and when he finds it he lifts his pants back up. He turns back to the two of you who were paying him absolutely no mind. You were staring up at Miguel, your legs spread and in almost in a mating press. Miguel was furiously beating his dick over you, using his thumb to spread your pussy lips and watch Hobie's cum drip out of it. Hobie hears him groan, but he quickly jumps back when Miguel twists his head around and glares at him furiously. "Why are you still here?" He spits. He plants the head of his dick directly onto your pearly spunk covered hole. "You want to watch me show you up? You want to watch me make my wife cum on my dick?" He ends the sentence with a smile. Hobie looks away from him to your fucked out face. Your hands were rubbing Miguel's torso with your fingers raking it, silently pleading for him to fuck you. Hobie wished he could tell him, ‘fine, you can fuck my baby into her instead,’ but he decides against it. His good girl still needed to be fucked and his attitude would not help with that.

As much as Miguel wants to continue taunting Hobie, he was ready to give you some real dick. "Damn, baby," he tells you, rubbing his dick between your folds, staining your region and covering himself with white. "You're such a fucking whore for me. He just came in you and now you want more?"

You shake your head. "No, daddy," You whimper. "I want you."

Miguel smiled. "I know you do."

By the time he's started fucking into you, Hobie had long since swung away and took a portal back to his home ready to hump his sheets and imagine he was fucking you again. Maybe this time he'll imagine that Miguel's in the corner.

~

Miguel thought about what went down yesterday as he waited for Hobie and his team to return from an assignment. You had told him hat the two of you were meeting up again when he got back. Today, you would go to his universe.

He doesn't completely understand how you all got here. He has always known that you had a little thing for Hobie, but he never imagined that it would get this far.

For the longest time, Miguel was looking at you, looking at Hobie, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid; he knew you were a bombshell; perfect brown skin, tasty full lips, a cute round nose and a body that puts anyone to shame. Why wouldn’t Hobie get weak at the sight of you? Hell, you’re married to Miguel and he still gets butterflies when you look at him.

He could pretend that it pissed him off that you wanted Hobie too, but when he thought he should have been angry, he felt blood rushing to his member instead. Imagining you on your hands and knees while someone who wasn’t him drilled into you from behind, hearing you moan someone else’s name, lubing his own dick with someone else’s cum and fucking you with it…it made him excited.

Yeah, it was a bit annoying how excited you were when he told you he was okay with you starting a sexual relationship with Hobie, (more like he wanted you to), but as long as you were happy, he was happy. And then he got really happy. When you told him about the small meet-ups you and Hobie had, he couldn't believe himself when he told you to fuck in the therapy sector. He would keep Peter-78988 occupied while you two did your thing in his office. His morals kept him from recording, however, and he desperately wanted to see it happen.

He guesses you knew that, you told him you would be fucking in a new place that Miguel would really really like. He was prepared to wait for you to tell him when it was all said and done, you sitting on your knees and jerking him off as you did it like always, but imagine his surprise when he entered his own office and saw his platform activated and Lyla turned off.

Yesterday was nice, and he hoped that you all could do it again one day, but that day may not be soon.

He didn't appreciate the way Hobie sauntered into HQ that morning, clearly thinking that his shit doesn't stink. It was already annoying that he looks like that regardless, but now he knows he's the shit and that makes him worse. No, he's not actually. He just thinks he is. And Miguel needs to let him know that.

"You," he points at the man after they turned in their reports. He raises his pierced brow. "Stay." Gwen and Margo make a childish ooo~ sound waving bye just before the entrance closes up again.

Hobie stands in front of him, taking his a stare head on. Miguel has his hands on his hips, like he always does, looking like a dad about to scold his son. He fights back a scoff, but he’s annoyed. He had more important things to attend to; he really wants to see if he can make you call him daddy, too.

Miguel gives an ingenuine grin. Hobie's bored expression doesn't change. "Yesterday was something, huh?"

Even though it was clear that this was what Miguel wanted to talk about, it still surprised him that he would. Hobie doesn't let it catch him off guard, though. "Yeah, did you hear her begging me to suck her tit? That was something."

Miguel's "smile" grows wider. "You know what you didn't hear? That you can't make her feel like I do."

Hobie gives him a cocky beam, something that wasn't really becoming of him, but it's been building up for a month now. "You mean like how you can't make her cum? Why she came to me in the first place?"

Miguel gives him a look of realization. "Ohhh." he says. Then, he laughs. He crosses his hands over his chest and shakes his head. Hobie's smile widens. He knows he’s in for it now.

Miguel sighs and calms down. He waves a finger at him. "You know, you can be really funny when you want to."

"I usually get like that when I'm dying of boredom."

"Oh, is my presence not enjoyable?"

"Not nearly as much as your wife's." Hobie lifts his wrist and looks at a pretend watch. "Who I have to be meeting soon, so if you don't mind..."

He turns to walk away but is stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder. He looks back at Miguel and his unsettling grin. The smile that was on Hobie's face has been wiped off. He looks at him unimpressed, despite being nervous inside.

"I don't want to keep her waiting either," he starts. He turns Hobie around fully and looks down at him. "So let me make one thing clear, Hobart." He leans over just enough for Hobie to feel his breath on his face.

"You're only fucking my wife because I allow it. I'm the reason she's keeping your dick wet. Remember that. You will never be enough for her. Ever." With that, he slaps his shoulder encouragingly and pushes him out, ready to get back to work.

Hobie stands outside the room and contemplates what the fuck just occurred. He looks to the floor as his mind runs with memories of every time the two of you fucked. All the "sneaking", all the lying, it was never what it was...He knew about it the whole time.

Hobie could probably find it in him to care, but your pretty face popped up on his watch with you asking where he was and that you wanted him to show you his place.

Yeah, he'll be fine with this.

ending a/n: Tell me what you thinkkkkkkk

Okayyyyyy lmk if u wanna be tagged in part 2 OR WHATEVER

Masterlist

[sopuu]

I would LOVE to hear rambles and rants about your champion Jesse au! Your design and concept have really been picking at my brain!! (In a good way lol)

part 2 is out so I can finally get to this! im so glad you’re liking it so far ahh it means the world to me!! 🥹

and hmm au rambles... did you know one of the reasons why i started this was bc iii got really mad at the whole petra talking down on lukas and radar conversation in the ice palace? the rest is under the cut bc it got long as usual lmao

radar i can understand a little since she at that point didn’t know him that well, plus from someone who has been a warrior her whole life it mayy be hard to look at determining someone’s abilities to fend for themselves from a different, less swordfighting perspective (though I don’t agree with her at all). but LUKAS? the guy who fought the witherstorm and went through gruelling experiences in portals with her? the guy who she’s been good friends with even before s1?? girl what that just makes no sense to me. this coupled with the development side of things where lukas’ va had life stuff and couldn’t make it into several eps made me feel like their friendship had a lot of missed potential to be handled better? especially since the two didn’t exchange a single word throughout s2,, they’re like my fav platonic duo too :( soo i wanted to do some character exploration but didn’t know how yet at the time. (this became the catalyst for leadership w/o a leader where i wanted to tackle both their lack of interaction and the doubting)

i also had other scattered thoughts like the champion arc not getting enough attention, as in champion petra/jack post-prison fight had like one or two lines about how the experience was and that’s about it? there’s not much more info on what exactly happened or how much it affected the characters aside from instilling a few doubts in them- or maybe i missed something i dunno. so i wanted to do some exploration of that too.

i didn’t want to just rewrite the season my way bc that feels kinda wrong plus i still like it as is, and since i love canon-compliant aus I came up with CJAU to put all my thoughts and headcanons in :) it’s more like an alternate timeline than anything haha. there’s also other reasons for why i wanted jesse to be the champion but i can’t really say juust yet

hope you continue to enjoy the au! thanks for letting me go off for a bit lol

[raineandsky]

Ouroboros

#78.2 (part 1) (part 2)

“Chicken noodle soup?”

The henchman brandishes a bowl at the hero like a weapon of healing. The hero begrudgingly takes it, and the henchman gives them his classic lopsided smile in victory.

It’s been two weeks since the hero woke up in this cosy little room. Two weeks since they tried to stop the villain unleashing chaos on the city. Two weeks since they disappeared off the agency’s radar.

The henchman settles in the chair next to the bed as the hero gets comfortable, the bowl balanced carefully in their hands. It’s delightfully warm against their skin, the smell absolutely divine; they’re two seconds away from either falling asleep or devouring the entire thing.

“Any news about the agency?”

The henchman clicks his tongue. The hero’s been finding more and more roundabout ways to ask the same question, but the henchman knows what they mean by now.

“They have another hero out dealing with [Villain].” He averts his gaze to the window awkwardly. “They still haven’t acknowledged that you’re gone.”

The agency’s a self-absorbed little corporation. The hero knows that. Still—a search party would be nice. A memorial, even. Something to say that they noticed the hero disappeared.

“They’re probably busy filling the gap I left,” the hero says with forced disinterest, and dips into their soup to keep their mouth from saying too much.

They crave for someone to notice—a colleague, their higher-ups, anyone, anything to prove they cared even a little bit. They’ve already told the henchman that the agency looks out for them. It’ll be awkward if it turns out they lied about that.

The two of them sit in silence for a while, the henchman reading a book as the hero inhales the soup. It’s amazing, as always, and fills a gaping hole that they wish could be filled by more legitimate means.

The henchman looks up when the bowl rattles against the bedside table. His book gets flopped page-down on the table next to him in an instant. “Let’s get those bandages changed again,” he says simply, and the hero groans.

They don’t see the point. They feel fine, but the henchman won’t even let them look anymore. The last time they’d seen the gash it’d looked much better, but the henchman insists that they must’ve done something to tear it again. What, they’ve no clue—all they do all day is roll around in bed. How they’d tear a wound open enough to need another week of healing and close inspection is beyond them.

The henchman shuffles closer armed with a roll of bandages. The hero rolls their eyes and lifts their shirt in defeat.

The henchman’s touch is as soft as ever, of course, and the hero watches him for lack of anything better to look at.

His brow furrows in concentration, his hands steady, his tongue caught between his teeth. His hair is still wet from what the hero assumes is a shower. His usual black clothes—that the hero has come to guess are a uniform for the villain—are abandoned in favour of a baggy t-shirt and a pair of well-loved joggers.

They don’t flinch under his fingers anymore. He’s pleasantly warm against their skin, forever gentle despite the hero’s repeated “I’m fine!” When he’s done he leans back and graces the hero with the slightest of smiles.

“It’s still looking a little rough,” he says like he read the hero’s mind. “We’ll give it a couple more days to make sure it’s definitely good before you head out.”

“You say that every day,” the hero points out. They can’t keep their tone from being exasperated.

They love it here, sure—the cooking, the comfy bed, the being doted on—but they want to kick the agency’s ass for apparently forgetting about them.

“A couple more days,” the henchman repeats, and with a sigh he grabs the old bundle of (bloodless?) bandages and leaves the hero to themself.

A couple more days. The hero’s getting restless stuck in this tiny room. They need to sink their claws into the agency, show them what they’re missing.

They can always come back once they’re done.