#and actually wants to be around me ya know

[melodyofmbaku]

Mind Your Manners (Smoke Moore x Annie/Reader)

First line was was actually inspired by a line in this fic by @szatears, please check it out :)

Preview: “I done told you to watch that mouth ain’t I?” He snapped before undoing his belt and stalking towards you."

Word Count: 2.25k

Warning ⚠️: Strong Sexual Themes + Smut (18+ Material)

A/N I watched Sinners yesterday and pumped this fic out today. I'm back in my writing era 🤠💁🏾‍♀️ ___

If there was one thing Smoke didn’t like, it was an attitude. Whether he deserved it or not. 

So when the man who had skipped town 4 years ago appeared on your door step you knew he’d have something to say about you kissing your teeth, huffing and rolling your eyes. 

“What are you doing here Smoke?"

He took a drag out of his cigarette.

 “Now that ain’t no way to greet a man Annie.”

Your eyes slid over him. He was covered in a tailored tweed 5 piece suit and his bulk couldn’t be hidden. Thick arms, a broad chest and a wicked smile with golds peaking out. 

Smoke Moore. Nothing better. 

You took him in. 

“Ain’t you gonna let me in?” He grinned and leaned on your door frame. 

You squinted your eyes at him. Thoughts of that night at the Juke years ago surfaced. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“You ain’t never needed me to do that before.”

He sucked another mouthful of smoke from his cigarette. And blew it towards you. Your eyes watered a bit and you glared, gripping the doorframe tighter. 

“Maybe I need you to now.” There was a beat. 

“You don’t need an invitation. You just come and go as you please. I’ve given up on trying to keep you away. It’s a waste of time.”

He smirked something fierce. 

“Yeah you right. I was just fucking with ya.”

He flicked the cigarette into the grass and pushed past Annie, not without placing his paws on her body to maneuver her out of the way. 

One hand grabbed her waist, the other palmed her heavy breast before squeezing past her and into her quaint home. 

Smoke had it made for her. For them. 

One of the last things he did for her before he skipped town. 

——

He’d picked her up from her rotten daddies house and told her to pack a bag. He strapped her into that car and drove them over to the tiny plot of land he’d procured. And there it sat, a little home. 2 bedrooms and a “kitchen meant for cooking” as he called it. 

He held her as her eyes watered and whispered. 

“You like it baby girl? It’s yours. You ain’t never gotta worry bout a place to lay your head again.”

And there they spent the next 2 days holed up and christening the house. Even the kitchen meant for cooking. 

_____

Smokes eyes took the place in. The small house he’d bought, you’d made it into a home. You brought in an ice chest and had decorated it, your personality showed in every corner. 

He smelled bacon on the stove and the nostalgia hit him like a brick. 

“You making greens?”

“What’s it to you?” You replied with your back turned towards him. 

He loved your greens.

You didn’t know what to do with him back in your space. You felt activated. Didn't know whether to run to him or away from him.

You took a deep breath and composed yourself. And turned around only to see him fishing for a cigarette. 

“Don’t you smoke that shit in here.” You snapped. 

He looked at you and paused before nodding and sliding the pack back into his jacket pocket. 

He lifted his hands up. 

“You’re right sweet girl. My bad. I know you don’t like that in the house.”

“Thank you.” You whispered to yourself. Feeling relief at the inch of control you had gained back. 

He knew you thought it was a nasty habit and if he wanted to smoke, he’d have to do it outside your home. 

Say what you wanted to say about Smoke, he knew how important this space — your home — was to you. And you didn’t want anyone to ruin it. Even the man who built it for you. 

“Why are you here?” You asked. 

“We’re back now. I’m back now. For good.”

You scoffed.

“What you had all your fun? Running around Chicago with your brother? Fucking all them northern whores?” You sneered. 

His eyes watched you. You hated how they could see right through you. You weren’t jealous. You were hurt. 

His eyes glowered. “Watch your mouth.”

How could he just give you the best few days of your life and just leave without a trace? Leaving you to hear news about him and his brother through the grape vine. 

How dare he tell you what to do?

“Or what?” You snapped back. This was 4 years of pain. Of hurt. Of anger. 

“What, you tired of them? Wanted to swing back on down and fuck your southern whore too? Taste the mother fucking rainbow?”

“You not no whore Annie.” He warned again. 

Your eyes shimmered with angry tears. 

“How you know I wasn't up and down these streets? You not the only one who likes to fuck.”  You snapped back. 

He smirked a knowing smile on his lips. 

“You wasn’t fucking these niggas. You forget that I know you. You wouldn’t let em get a chance.” 

And you hated him because it was true. 

“Fuck you Smoke.” You spat. You could almost see the vein pop from his temple. 

Smoke didn’t like an attitude. Whether he deserved it or not. 

“I done told you to watch that mouth ain’t I?” He snapped before undoing his belt and stalking towards you. 

You backed up against the wall. Fiery defiant eyes staring back at him. 

He bullied his way into the space between your plush thighs. Sticking his face into your neck and breathing deeply. He kissed you.  Once. Twice. 

“Why are you back?” You whispered brokenly. 

He ignored your question and worked quickly to push your dress over your thick hips. 

“You weren’t ever this rude before Annie.” He mused while manipulating your body to be exactly where he wanted it to be. He knew your body like the back of his hand. You was his and nobody else’s. 

That was law. 

His fingers found your sex and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips. 

Smokes fingers stroked between your folds before sliding into her. The wetness soaked his fingers immediately. 

He kept his eyes on your face. He loved the faces you made. And right now your head was thrown back and your plump lips parted slightly. 

Quickly the sound of the small home was filling with deep breathing and whimpers. 

“Why? Are you back?” You managed to breathe out between moans. 

Was he here for good or was he just passing by? 

“I must not be doing a good job if you still asking me all these questions…” he mused. He added another finger for good measure. 

Unfortunately, that did shut you up. 

He took the other hand and palmed at your breast and tweaked a nipple and you groaned deeply. 

He smiled, nothing but pure joy on his face. 

“You ain’t have nobody here to tell you… to teach you your manners. That's why I came back.” He stated. 

He bent his fingers within you once before sliding out and replacing them with his tongue. 

He expertly licked into you. Letting your essence coat his lips. 

Smoke loved him some you. When he had his fill he stood up and captured your lips in his. 

You tasted yourself on him. 

He looked down at you. You were thoroughly debauched. “You ready for me?” 

You nodded lazily, you could barely think straight. Smoke liked you this way sometimes. Pliant and easy. He could move you any which way he wanted. 

He graciously turned you around and pressed you into the wall. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now princess. And you gon’ like it.”

“Yes daddy.” You whispered and that’s what drove Smoke to press himself right into you, and he felt you stretching to accommodate him. 

Now it was his time to groan. 

“Fuck.”  He spat out. 

You giggled. That didn’t last long as he pulled out slowly and thrust back in with intention. 

That giggle turn into a graphic sound he would file away for later. You were so responsive for him. 

There you began your dance. Smoke began a slow and intentional rhythm. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire time. 

Still your question persisted despite the pleasure filled fog which filled your head. 

“Why you back Smoke?” You managed to whisper. 

He grunted. You wasn’t letting this go. Could he blame you? 

He changed his pace, to something more punishing. Something that would make you forget you were angry with him at all. 

“Why? I needed to set you straight. That’s why. Remind you of how to act right.” He thrusted after each sentence. 

Your moans got louder with every thrust. But he kept his pace. 

“You got this attitude because I ain’t been here to fuck it outta you. And for that baby I was wrong.” He crooned into your ear. 

“It’s my fault.” He stated. 

He pumped into you relentlessly. And you took every thrust like a champ. 

“Blame me mama.” He whispered. It almost got quiet in the room.

The unspoken "not yourself" conveniently omitted from the end of his sentence. Just two bodies doing a dance as old as time. 

He reached over to grip your breasts again and pluck at your nipples. 

Your broken moans filled the space. He knew your body like no other. You were made for him. 

“That’s right.” He encouraged, he loved to hear you. 

“I’m back now baby. Daddy’s here and he’s gonna take such good care of you.” He breathed heavily into your ear. 

You were overcome with emotion. Your eyes watered. Was that a promise? You couldn’t do another broken promise. 

“Don’t you say that Elijah. Don't you dare lie to me. I can’t take it anymore.” You panted out. 

“You’ll take what I give you.” He snapped. 

Why was he like this? Why did you love this? 

Your head dropped low. Because he was right. You would take what he gave you. Even if it was lies or castles built up in the sky. 

You were a fool. And you loved him. 

He slid his hand into your hair, grasping your curls. 

You were Smoke’s to play with. To have, hold, fuck and scold. You didn’t pretend you didn’t know it.

“Chin up.” You tilted your chin up and his grip on your curls tightened. 

“Good girl.”

You moaned.  

He kissed your ear before speaking. 

“This time I ain’t lyin’.” He kissed your cheek. 

This was feeling good. You were barley listening. He could tell you he could sprout wings and fly right now and you’d believe him as long as he didn’t stop. 

“I’m back for good. I did what I needed to do out in Chicago. For you. For us. We don’t never gotta worry about money ever again.”

“It was never about the money.” You managed to gasp out. 

“Shhhhh.” He coaxed. 

That was another thing that came up in the past. Smoke was money motivated. He didn’t understand that you just wanted him.  Nothing else. 

He never wanted to be under the control of another man because of some money. So he went and got him some. 

“I think…" He pondered for a bit before continuing.

"I think I’m gonna fuck a few babies into you tonight Annie. Your body was made for it. For me.”

Your walls immediately clenched onto him. 

“Gonna have a bunch of em fat and happy running all around this place.”

Tears dripped from your eyes. The pleasure, the visuals, the stimulation. It was all too much. 

He didn’t stop. 

“You want that baby girl? Want daddy to put a couple babies in you?”  

You wailed. Short circuited even. 

Because Smoke knew. He knew that’s all you ever wanted. Him. And a family. And he wouldn’t tease you about that. 

“Yes! Yes! I want — “

“Yeah? You gonna have to say please mama. You how I feel about them manners.” He grinned wickedly. 

How he managed to stay aware enough to play you like this was beyond your comprehension. 

“Please!” You wailed out. 

“Please what?”

“Please make me a mama!”

His finger slipped to your clit quickly and he watched your face in wonder as your orgasm washed over you.  

You clutched onto him desperately to prevent yourself from falling. 

“That’s my girl.” he hissed.  Before thrusting and unloading his seed right into you. 

—

It’s been a few hours and you and Smoke were laid out in a blanket on a cot on the floor. 

Drunk on each other. 

He had fed you peaches from the jar right from his hands and had quelled any fears you’d had about him leaving you again, from in between your legs. 

“If it’s a girl we gon' name her Amiyah. After my mama.” You whispered into his chest. 

He kissed your head. “Whatever you want.”  

“And if it’s a boy I wanna name him Erik Stevens.”

He furrowed his brow. 

“Erik Stevens? Where you get that name from?”

“I don’t know I just like it. You don’t like it?” You asked, looked up at him. 

He scoffed. “That sounds like the name of a bandit.”  

You pinched his skin between your fingers. “Hey.” You frowned. 

He looked down at your big brown eyes and melted. 

“You really like that name?” 

You nodded. 

“Aight, I can be convinced.” He brought you closer to him and you both just sat in silence basking in your love.

He scoffed again. “Erik Stevens…”

“What is your problem?” You asked perplexed. Fingers stroking his chest. 

“I don’t like it. He sound like a boy who ain’t go no manners.” 

“Oh brother.”  ___

I so enjoyed writing this. I hope yall enjoy!!

Taglist

@sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy

[msfantasy-anime]

My Ex-Wife

Monkey D. Luffy x ExWife!Reader

Summary: Luffy runs into his ex wife at the docks

A/n: after the marine wife request, it got me thinking about alternative timelines. Like what if Luffy ‘married’ Y/n in their childhood and Y/n actually believes it and went along with it— but declared divorce when Luffy left the island to pursue his dreams of becoming the king of the pirates…. Btw the original can be read here

“Y/n!”

That voice.

That loud, grating, boisterous, voice that rattles your brain, and it’s unmistakably his.

You freeze mid-step, your heart pounding at the unexpected encounter, you’d almost believe the world stopped if it weren’t for the commotion of the docks and the seagulls screeching above.

You didn’t dare to turn around, only hoping that if you don’t respond, he’ll assume he mistook your figure and go back to whatever the hell he’s doing.

But then again, this is Luffy we are talking about… you can already picture the wide, toothy grin stretched across his stupid face.

Before you can even consider running away, his rubber arms slingshot out and yank you straight into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Oft—! Luffy! Let me go!” You squirm, but it’s useless. His grip is unrelenting, strong in a way that reminds you —

God— shut up brain!

You scold yourself.

“I missed you!” he says, laughing as if you weren’t actively trying to peel yourself out of his grasp.

“Yeah? Well I sure as hell didn’t miss you!” You lie, wriggling harder to escape his grasp and avoiding those warm welcoming eyes you use to look into so fondly.

Luffy pulls back just enough to grin at you, but his arms remain locked around your shoulders, as if letting go would make you disappear.

“Still mad huh?” He begins to chuckle in that dismissive way that send your blood boiling. He finally releases you from his hold, the loss of his tight grip has your heart twisting.

“Um Luffy, aren’t you going to introduce us to this beauty?” Sanji questions, taking your hand and begins to pucker his lips as he lean into your knuckles for a royal smooch.

Before Sanji had the pleasure to kiss your knuckles, Luffy’s thick hand smacks centre into Sanji’s face, pushing him away from your form.

“Don’t kiss my wife!” Luffy announces making his crew drop their jaws at the sudden proclamation.

His crew watches with wide, confused eyes, their curiosity practically radiating off them.

“Your WHAT?!” They all scream in unison.

“I’m not your wife damn it! And you know it!” You wave, folding your arms into your chest with a huff.

“Aw, come-on, you’re not seriously still mad about it are ya?” Luffy asks, his puppy dog eyes glistening up at you.

“Huh? So… who are you?” Nami finally asks.

“Are you deaf Nami?! I just said Y/n is my wife!” A vein pops straight from Nami’s head.

“I can hear perfectly fine moron!” Luffy begins to whine in pain as Nami pinches harshly at her captains cheeks. “And what I heard was her denying you’re married!”

You slap a hand over your face with a groan.

“Oh, for the love of—Luffy, we are NOT married!”

“Yes, we are,” he argues, completely serious. “We had a wedding and everything.”

“And you left me on the bloody island to go off and become a pirate king all by yourself!”

Luffy shrugs. “But you said you didn’t want to become a pirate so—.”

“So you left me without saying goodbye?! I would’ve become one for you Luffy!” You feel a headache coming on. A very familiar one.

“No.” Luffy says firmly, all smiles gone. His serious attitude coming out. “I want you to follow your own dream — even if it’s without me.”

“You were my dream damn it!” You yell, suddenly the crew felt like they were somewhere they shouldn’t be. “But whatever— it’s done now anyway.” You say— a bit more defeated. “If you’re going to introduce me — you better do it correctly. Because Im your ‘ex’ wife.”

Luffy stares at you blankly. “Nope— you’re my wife.”

There was no use talking to this baffoon, he just doesn’t get it.

Sanji, ever the hopeless romantic, takes a long drag from his cigarette. “So this is why you turned down Boa Hancock…”

Luffy beams, completely unbothered. “Of course! Y/n’s my only wife.”

Your eye twitches. “For the last time, I AM NOT—” But there was not use. You glare at Luffy, who’s just standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Same as always.

You want to be mad. Really, you do.

But looking at him now, standing so confidently, so sure of himself… it’s hard to ignore the way your heart stumbles just a little.

Damn it.

After all this time you thought your heart followed your demand… but Luffy still has it beating to the sound of his drum.

Tag (this is not technically part of the My Wife Series- but an alternative time line— I’m just tagging you in case)

@sriish @laws-wife-things @withthistreaserisummon @kazuubaby @matronofthevoid @shondlenoodle @azndance98-blog @coffiviv @200th-piece-of-glass @princess-vibes25 @jetblackw1ngs @tellynojelly @twistedcece @anyaswlrd

[ryebread0605]

Can I request the test third years and the kind of fantasy/wet dreams they would have about the reader

Or maybe if that's too specific how they act walking up from one of those dreams and have to face being near them that same day

I can do ya one better and do both! Hope you enjoy anon!!

Cater:

soft sex style dream 

Hear me out, he would act like he’s into the hardcore stuff but actually just wants to be gently fucked 

Having you use a strap on him, arching his back as you whisper in his ear how good he’s being for you, shivering as you plant soft kisses on his bare back and neck

He’s really down when he wakes up and realizes it was just a dream

Until he remembers that he’s your boyfriend and can just ask you to do that

After classes that day, you get to see him more vulnerable than anyone has ever seen him before as you gently fuck him as he melts in your arms 

Trey: 

breeding kink style dream 

Has always wanted a larger family 

Plus the idea of getting to be in you without a condom? Getting to watch his cum leak out of you before fucking more into you?

It’s no wonder that suddenly he is waking up early to deal with his… growing problem

Another one that is far too nervous to actually bring it up, thinking it’s disrespectful 

Until you straight up tell him you had a wet dream about him and now he feels as if you are intentionally inviting him 

(With your consent) the next night neither of you sleep as moans reverberate off the walls of his dorm room

Leona:

predator prey style wet dream 

He’s the prey for once though

The idea of you chasing him down, pinning him to a tree, tearing off his clothes and-

Ruggie just had to go and wake him up right at the good part

He’s a grump, moreso than usual, all day 

He’s embarrassed to think the idea of himself being a prey to you got him more horny than anything he’s ever previously thought of

And yet, somehow, he still will be able to keep up the facade 

That is, until you walk into the greenhouse just as he’s about to fall asleep

Well, no one else is around, right? Might as well let him get a head start and finish what your dream counterpart started

Vil:

latex fetish style dream 

The idea of you or him (or both of you) in latex, the shiny fabric clinging to your skin, hugging your curves in all the right places, it absolutely makes him crazy 

Perhaps even a whip to make you behave when you decide to act all bratty under the influence of Ace and Deuce

His eyes roam over your skin, the latex catsuit constricting you in a pleasurable way as he searches for even the slightest hint of disobedience

When he wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize it was all a dream

Isn’t one to masturbate but also can’t go to class with a hard on, sevens knows what damage that would do to his reputation 

He won’t directly say why, but don’t be surprised to find latex skirts, pants, and dresses suddenly showing up on your doorstep 

Conveniently seems to almost always suddenly ‘need the restroom’ whenever you wear one of the pieces to class 

Rook:

body worship style dream

He imagines what your body looks like under your baggy uniform, how stunning you must look in your birthday suit 

Running his hands along your body, feeling every dip and curve, a squeeze there, a brush there, sevens he could cum just from this

And he does

Wakes up with a stain on his pants but just shrugs it off and gets dressed, finding his dream to be a magnificent feat of his mind showing him his wants

He is Unbothered and will go right over to you, not even the smallest hint of a blush on his face

Not afraid to just straight up tell you what he dreamt of

Will ask you if he can see if reality and his dream line up (aka he wants to see you nakey but says it in a far more poetic way)

Idia:

Toy usage style dream

Having you restrained on his bed as multiple toys he himself made invade your body and overwhelm your senses 

He watches as your body shakes, back arched and loud moans pouring from your lips 

5, 6, 7 times you orgasm, and he still doesn’t turn the toys off

He laughs sadistically at the site of your overstimulated expressions, grabbing his phone to snap a pic-

He shoots awake rock hard 

Yeah no, he refuses to leave his room that day

Although he does watch you through the security cams

He wants so badly to relieve the ache in his pants but feels so dirty doing it 

Maybe next time, you could be the one to help him

Lilia:

a dream of… ‘interrogating’ you

Taking place back when he was general

You wandered into his campsite? A lowly human?

And yet… you don’t seem dangerous

His sword pressed against your throat, dick deep in your hole, watching you blabber incoherent nonsense-

His alarm makes him awaken with a bit of a jolt before he laughs it off

Unbothered part 2, but worse 

He will straight up describe IN DETAIL what happened in his dream, even if the others are around to hear 

Poor silver. He really wished that day that Sebek would’ve deafened him with all his yelling by now

Lilia knows he can’t truly make his dream a reality, but why not do some role playing and see what happens?

Malleus: 

sensory deprivation style dream 

The silkiest of ropes around his wrists, blindfolds tied tight around his eyes, large noise canceling headphones over his ears

Every caress from you sets his body on fire

All his body can focus on is the sensation of your hands running along his bare form

His body stands at attention for you, his two dicks hard as you caress them, pushing him closer and closer to the edge-

Sebeks voice breaks him from the sweet embrace of his dream, reminding him to head to class

He is… confused. He’s never experienced this kind of dream and of course goes to Lilia for help who lays out everything for him 

He’s absolutely terrified to make you uncomfortable and will seem more distant 

If you confront him, though, he will fold under the pressure and spill everything 

Won’t you reward him for telling you? Make the poor dragon fae’s dream a reality?

[yokohamapound]

Ooh, a new BSD blog! :D How about the reactions of Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Akutagawa and Fyodor when they see their female S/O in fancy attire for the first time? Like if they're going to some formal events together as a couple.

Hmm, it's almost like you knew I am addicted to fancy clothes...this sent me on a deep dive through my extensive Pinterest board.

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Contents: fem!reader, possessive, controlling Fyodor

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of man to enjoy seeing you in everything you wear, especially when you're puttering around the apartment in just one of his his shirts, but seeing you in formalwear is something special.

Maybe it's another award ceremony for the Armed Detective Agency, a fancy gala that requires you to wear something more upscale than business casual. Dazai has a suit he can fall back on—probably something in a dark blue or a shade of camel, because black reminds him too much of his time in the Port Mafia.

He's waiting in the living room for you to come out of the bedroom, periodically whining for you to come out of the bedroom and pay attention to him.

"I'm going to die of neglect out here," he calls forlornly. "And I always wanted us to die togeth—"

The door slides open, and Dazai cuts off his wailing, looking over his shoulder. There's a moment of silence—yes, actual silence from Dazai—as his gaze moves slowly up your legs, his eyes getting progressively wider as he takes in the slinky little number clinging to your curves, how the neckline reveals the arch of your throat. Your make-up, those smoky eyes and glossy lips...

"I don't want to go," he blurts, shuffling over on his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Let's stay home. I'll pour you sake and feed you grapes."

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo doesn't tend to make a big deal about what you wear. He notices of course, because he notices everything, but he'll only comment if you're wearing something particularly cute or if he's deduced something interesting from your choice of attire, which usually goes like:

"Are you wearing that skirt 'cause you wanted me to notice you waxed your legs?"

"Ranpo, even if you know something, it doesn't mean you have to say it."

"What? You wanted me to notice and I'm noticing. It's not my fault you're not subtle," he says, grinning around his lollipop.

"Right, because I'm the one that's not subtle."

He's fiddling with his tie as the pair of you get ready for a formal event thrown in the ADA's honour (normally he'd complain about going to something so boring, but Fukuzawa promised him there'd be a buffet and lots of people wanting to praise him) and complaining that he can't tie it and he doesn't want to wear it.

"Oh, you big baby," you chide playfully, sauntering out of the bedroom, heels clicking as you fix one of your earrings in place "You wear a tie every day."

Taking the ends of the tie, you start to weave it into a simple Windsor knot, glancing up to see Ranpo gawking at you, his pretty green eyes wide open. For once, his brain isn't processing information at warp speed. It's crickets in there, like he's short-circuited.

"That good, huh?" you ask, tightening his tie. "No deductions, smart boy?"

"Uh..." Ranpo falters a bit as you draw him closer by his carefully knotted tie. "Nope."

You give him a kiss and release him. He's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he follows you to the door.

"Hey, is there room for snacks in your clutch?"

Nakahara Chuuya

If you're Chuuya's girl, you'll never want for the finer things in life, but that first, first time he sees you all dolled up is very memorable. Even if you have cash of your own, he would have handed you his shiny black card, pressing it into your hand with a kiss and a grin.

"Let me treat ya. Don't even look at the prices."

After some credit card BDSM—that plastic rectangle got used and abused and it liked it—you came back to the penthouse laden with shopping bags, your hair freshly styled, a mani pedi, and a facial. By the time Chuuya comes to pick you up, you're dolled up to the nines.

Chuuya walks in, calling out for you, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees you. You've got your back to him, carefully fixing the edge of your lipstick in the vanity mirror, when you spot his reflection.

"Hey, babe, almost ready," you say, turning to face him.

A slow grin breaks out across Chuuya's face. He reaches up and pushes his hat back, as if to see you better, his blue eyes wide.

"Fuck me, doll," he says, his voice coming out rough. "You look incredible..."

You make a show of checking your beautiful antique watch. "I don't think we have time for that right now, but when we get home..."

Chuuya lets out a groan, pulling you toward him by the hips. You won't let him smudge your fresh lipstick, so he leaves a love bite on your throat instead, like a promise for later.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Akutagawa swears by formalwear (even if his taste in formalwear is over a century out of date), so he's no stranger to being suited and booted. Perhaps the two of you have been tasked to infiltrate a high society soiree as part of Mori's plans, or perhaps you are his undercover bodyguards while he attends one himself.

Akutagawa dislikes clothes shopping, so he flatly refused to accompany you to buy a dress for the occasion. This is probably for the best. It's a lot less stressful to shop with Gin and Higuchi than it is with an irritable, murderous Ryuunosuke dogging your heels and glaring daggers at the sales assistant.

Which is to say, he has no idea what you are wearing until you show up to the gala. He's watching Mori from near the wall, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long black coat. Disinterested.

His pale grey eyes sweep over you at first, mistaking you for another of the wealthy partygoers.

Then they snap back, going wide. Akutagawa stands there as if he's been locked into place as you saunter over to join him, a flute of champagne in each hand.

The way the dress moves, how it flows or clings to the various planes and curves of your body, how you move while you wear it, as if you've become a new, elevated version of yourself.

"Sorry I'm late," you say, handing him a champagne flute. He's surprised enough to take it without muttering that he doesn't like champagne. "The boss did say to arrive separately."

"...what are you wearing?" he finally manages to say. "You look—"

"Ridiculous? Yeah, I know, but this is what we have to wear to these stupid things. I can't even get away with hiding a gun under this thing."

"No—"

Too late, you've already moved away toward the buffet to grab a couple of hors d'oeuvres for you and him. Akutagawa finds his voice a little too late.

"You don't look ridiculous."

Fyodor Dostoevsky

I can guarantee with 100% certainty that Fyodor knows exactly what you're wearing, because he took you to the exclusive boutique in order to purchase it—after he had you model several dozen gowns for his appreciation and approval. He had to spend all that money he stole from the Guild on something, after all, so there were shoes and jewellery into the bargain.

There are staff to pamper you: a hairstylist, a nail tech, and a make-up artist, all under strict orders not to speak to you or dare look you in the eye as they primp and doll you up.

"Doll" being the operative word, because you look like a porcelain doll by the time they're done with you.

Airy layers float around you as you carefully pick your way down the sweeping staircase, ankles wobbling in your slightly-too-high heels, giving you that vulnerable, fawnish air that Fyodor likes so much.

He stands at the bottom of the stairs, cool violet eyes watching every tentative step. His masterpiece is complete.

"Myshka," he purrs at the sight of you. "You look perfect."

He offers you his hand, cold fingers closing around yours as you stumble off the very last step and into his arms. He makes a soft, slightly mocking sound of amusement in the back of his throat.

"Careful, darling," he chides, his hand settling firmly, possessively in the small of your back. "I can't have you falling for anyone but me."

The humour carries a note of truth. Fyodor's finger traces along the line of your jaw, curling beneath your chin and tipping your face up toward his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

"I will have to dress you this way more often."

AO3 | Other Blogs: Bleach | BNHA | Naruto | JJK

[othersidedd]

Let me take care of you

Joel Miller x f!reader

🤎 You're sick and Joel wants to take care of you.

🤎 tags: no outbreak or maybe were in jackson however you wanna imagine it, sickness, soft dom joel, caring joel, kissing, joel talking you through it kinda, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, praise, joel cums in his pants from just eating you out

🤎 wc 2.5k

🤎 a little bit self-indulgent short thing cuz im sick again for the third time this month and im honestly so tired of it (and i wish joel miller would take care of me)

🤎 reader has hair she can braid, pink lips and is smaller than joel

-

You had been feeling under the weather for a few days now, waking up with a dry throat, guessing it'll probably pass when you get a glass of water, but instead it stuck with you, then it was your nose next, midday suddenly realizing you cant get any air through your nose.

A day after that it all really hit you. You woke up to an aching all over your body, getting up from the bed, rubbing at your forehead, attempting to ease some of the pain. You tried to breathe with your nose, but still nothing. You groaned in annoyance and pain, waking up Joel, who was still peacefully sleeping next to you. He slowly blinked, adjusting his eyes to the bright sun beaming from the window, making you glow in the light as Joel watched you, but you definitely didn’t feel all that shining and glowing right now.

"Is somethin' wrong, baby?" his voice called, still rough and slow with sleep. His eyebrows furrowed with worry, a hand reaching for your cheek. He softly traced your cheek with his thumb. "Jesus, you're burnin' up." He brought his hand up to your forehead, laying the back of his hand flat on your hot skin.

"Everything hurts, I just wanna sleep for a bit more," you told him, looking at his sweet, dark brown eyes filled with concern about you.

"Ya' stay right here, I'll go get the thermometer." His hands left your body and you laid your weak body back on the white sheets, sighing with the acceptance of it all, you really weren’t feeling well, and you would have to stay in bed for at least today.

As he came back and sat next to you on the mattress, checking your temperate, you both figured out you really were burning up. In Joel’s words, you had a dangerously high fever. He told you to relax and stay in bed, while he ran to the pharmacy to get all kinds of medicine to help get you back on your feet.

Only back then you didn't know that you would still be staying in bed after a week, feeling like an eternity with your body locked up in one place. This sickness was hitting you hard. You mostly slept through your days, and even when you could rarely stay awake for a few hours, you couldn't do anything. Your body was so weak, even standing up made your head spin.

Thank god Joel was there for you. You tried to tell him you could take care of yourself, however he insisted on helping, and there was no use trying to argue with him, he was a persistent man, and you were also lying, there was no way you could have taken care of yourself when you were like this. He made food for you, he read your favorite book for you, the pink cover of it looking silly in his big, rough hands. He even helped you get to the bathroom, the fever still making your legs wobbly. He carried you to the couch on the days you wanted to watch a movie to pass the time. He laid with you when you fell asleep, his comforting hands around your waist, and his hot breath in your hair.

And of course, he gave you all those medicines he bought. He would feed you a strange tasting liquid with a spoon, demanding you to open your mouth afterwards to make sure you actually took it all, then spray something up your nose, and then, your favorite, he would rub those creams on your chest and back, running his calloused hands on your soft skin. It felt comforting, his touch so gentle and knowing, soothing away some of the aching in your body. But his hands on your chest, only inches away from your breasts, also had your stomach twisting with want. You'd stare at his face with pleading eyes, as he focused his gaze on his hands spreading the cream on you. But either he didn't notice the glint in your eyes, or he just didn't want you like this, all stuffy and messy, because day after day, his hand left your body, fixed your shirt and kissed your cheek, wishing you a good night.

-

"Open up, baby. Stick your tongue out." You rolled your eyes, but still obeyed, sticking your tongue out at Joel sitting in front of you on the bed, soft mattress dipping under his weight. You still tasted the metallic taste of the medicine faintly on your tongue.

"Good girl," he cooed, smiling at you. You laughed softly, the praise slightly stirring something in you, reminding you of all the times you've been on your knees before him, hearing those same words, but in a darker tone.

"Gotta' make sure you take everything I give ya'." You gave him a look, a mad one, maybe, but you didn't actually want him to stop. He was teasing you, and whatever he was trying, was working, your face flushed, and your touch deprived body tensing up at his filthy words.

"Stop talking like that." You slightly pushed his shoulder, only earning a soft laugh from him. "I'm all messy and sick," you said, more to yourself, trying to stop the arousal twisting in you. You hadn't even looked into a mirror that day, but you could only guess what a mess you were, sitting on bed in your worn sleep clothes, hair falling out of your now loose braid, holding an used tissue in your hand.

He reached for the small container of cream on the bedside table, twisting the top open with ease. You were only wearing a small pink tank top, giving Joel all the access he needed for this. He dipped two fingers, his index and middle, into the soft cream, your eyes closely following their every move, causing you to feel a familiar heat between your thighs. He brought the fingers to your neck, softly starting to work the cream onto your skin, starting at the neck.

"You're still burnin' up,” he stated matter-of-factly as his hands worked on your skin. They were slowly starting to make their way down, now massaging the cream into your upper chest. You felt your nipples harden at his touch, the action clearly visible to him too, the hardness of them poking right through your thin shirt. His eyes flickered to yours, lips now forming into a small smirk. His hands inching lower, you could sense this wasn't about the cream anymore. Your breath hitched in your throat, lips slightly parted.

"You look beautiful," he whispered as he slowly brought his lips to yours, giving you a gentle kiss. His hands sat right above the soft flesh of your breasts. You huffed and opened your mouth to protest, how could he find you beautiful in this state? But he quickly stopped your attempts, "Shh, don't say anythin'." To make sure you got the message, he closed his lips on yours again.

You breathed out his name, hands tugging at his old gray t-shirt, trying to ground yourself, but also wanting to pull him closer, get more from him. He softly brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, his sweet eyes looking at you with so much love and gentleness. "I know, sunshine, you've been feelin' so bad." His hand still resting at your chest finally moved lower, gently massaging over your clothed breast.

"Let me make you feel better." Your head dizzy with the sickness, and now also arousal, all you could do was nod, hoping that would be enough for him, enough to not stop, enough to give you more.

He slowly tugged your shirt over your head, leaving you in only your panties. His gaze moved over your chest, always savoring the sight of your pretty flushed nipples and soft skin, as if every time was his first time seeing you like this. He kissed your jaw, neck, collarbones, making his way down, feeling the feverish heat of your skin on his lips, sucking gently, tasting the sweetness of you on his tongue. As his mouth finally found your breast, you leaned your head back, a slow exhale escaping your parted mouth. He knew just the way to touch you, and tonight it was all about you.

"Lay down for me." His big hands guided your back to find the soft sheets, making sure your head was resting on the pillows. Joel hummed in satisfaction, moving himself towards your feet. His thumbs tenderly teased circles on your hips, "Let's get these off," fingers finding the waistband of your white panties. He slowly tugged them down, taking his time, letting you relax and feel every moment. He tossed the damped underwear aside, rough hands gently guiding your legs open.

You loved when he was like this, Joel Miller, the big, rough, mean man, touching you like a sacred thing, like you could break at any moment. His touch so full of care and love.

His breath tickled your skin as he kissed along your thighs. You suck in a long breath as he softly held your legs, thumbs circling the skin, and kissed right next to the wetness between your legs. You felt yourself struggle for breath, your nose still stuffy.

"Breathe through your mouth, baby," he guided you, other hand reaching for your lips, other still staying at your thigh, holding you open for him. His index finger pushing against your pink, soft lips, your body responding to him, parting your lips. The digit gently pressed at your lower lip, holding your mouth open. You took long inhales through your mouth, Joel feeling the hot air on his finger.

A soft whimper escaped your mouth as he licked your folds, dragging his tongue along your wetness. The sweet pleads from your mouth as he worked you with his own, went straight to his cock, feeling the hardness in his boxers. He looked up at you, as he slowly dipped his tongue into you, your parted mouth, slight string of saliva running down your chin, wetting the finger still in your mouth, gently, but firmly holding it open, your face flushed the most gorgeous shade of red. You moaned his name, hips bucking up, grinding into him. Joel savored the taste of you, even if this was for you, that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to enjoy himself.

"This what you needed?" His lips found your clit, sucking gently, causing you to throw your head back, body shivering from the sensation. "Needed me to make you feel good?" You couldn't answer, only frantically nod, barely even registering the words in your hazy mind. His digit left your mouth, trusting you to keep it open with all your moans and whimpers. The hand traveled down your body, touching your neck, chest, stomach and thighs. He rubbed your thigh, trying to ground you before speaking again, "Tell me, beautiful."

Your voice came out hoarse and dry, more like a broken cry, "Yes, fuck-. Joel, yes, please, I need you." He smiled at you, a soft, comforting smile.

"That's my good girl," he cooed, a calloused finger finally finding your opening, slowly pushing inside of you. Your back arched at his digit working its way inside of you, your breath fast and unsteady. "Easy, let's take it slow," he didn't want you to overwork yourself, already feeling weak due to your fever. He slowly dragged his finger in and out, feeling the way you were soaking it.

"Look at me." You opened your eyes, hadn't even realized they were closed, lost in all the pleasure. You gazed at him with heavy eyelids, meeting his eyes, glimmering beautifully in the dim light.

"Keep your eyes on me, okay?" You tried to respond, half the word disappearing into a moan as he pushed his finger deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You fought to keep your eyes open, soft whines filling the silence of the night. His mouth returned on you, gaze still connected to yours as he licked your clit. The sight of him like this, between your legs, mouth working on you, lips and jaw glistening with your wetness, eyes full of eagerness to please, was enough to almost bring you to the edge.

Joel loved this too, his precum dampening his underwear, cock twitching with arousal. The way you looked, so messy and ruined under his touch, your whimpers and begs in the thick air, how you let him take care of you. He saw the way you were struggling to keep the eye contact, brief moments of eyes closing, moans getting shorter and louder, signaling to him that you were getting closer. And he was too, he felt that familiar tug at his stomach, causing him to groan against you.

"My sweet girl," he mumbled in between sloppy sucks and licks. "You're doing so good for me."

His words went straight to your cunt, hips bucking up into him, his finger curling inside of your soft walls. He stared at you with hunger and fire in his eyes, like he never wanted to stop, like he was enjoying this just as much as you.

"Joel-," your words cut short by another flick of tongue against your red, aching bud, "Ah- I'm gonna-". You reached your peak, back arching from the mattress, crying out his name.

He felt you come undone on his finger, your walls squeezing around his digit. He watched you writhe under his touch, listening to your cries of pleasure, hearing his name on your lips over and over again, pushing him over the edge too, grunting as he felt his release paint a wet spot in his boxers.

You both watched each other come undone, his finger still softly moving inside of you, letting you ride out your pleasure. Breathy moans and groans traveled in the air as you collected yourself.

Joel slipped his finger out, bringing it to his mouth, licking the flesh clean. He leaned over you, hands on either side of your head, closing you in, bringing his lips to yours. You tasted yourself on his lips, gaze traveling around his still clothed body, surely he needed the release too, you were ready to help him, even if your body was aching and screaming at you to go to sleep, but then, you noticed it, the wet spot on his pants.

"Did you...," you whispered between the soft kisses, staring at his crotch with slightly widened eyes. He looked down at himself, then back to you, and nodded, eyelids heavy and breath still uneven. You laughed softly, running your hand in his dark curls. "Joel Miller, the man you are," you smiled at him, eyes bright with amusement, earning a low chuckle from him.

"C'mon now, lets get you to sleep, baby." He laid his bigger body next to you, hands resting on your bare waist, holding you close to him. Planting soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, you drifted off to sleep with Joel holding you, taking care of you, like he always does.

-

🤎 im so sorry if theres any errors im sick and tired :( please tell me your thoughts if you have any !!

[neoheros]

there are very little things in this world that sakusa deems valuable enough to not risk – his game, his career, his reputation, his name.

he isn’t a gambler but he is an athlete and when you’re in his shoes, playing in the big leagues, thousands of people watching, looking, judging, there are a lot of risks you have to look out for.

he has to be quiet, polite, say the right thing, say it in the right tone, say it in the right time, otherwise, he risks his job and reputation.

he has to be focused, agile, ready for any change in the volleyball world the minute - the second - it happens, otherwise, he risks getting left behind, getting replaced by someone better, newer than him.

he has to be a lot of things and the risks of not being any of it puts him in a corner - cold and confining.

all of it, he hates with a passion, he hates with an effort. so he doesn’t take any risks at all. not when it comes to his game, his career, his reputation, his name.

but you – you are probably the riskiest person he has ever met.

i mean, you guys work together for god’s sake. it’s an HR crisis waiting to happen. it puts everything he’s worked hard for at risk — his game, his career, his reputation, his name.

but still.

you always know the right things to say to him, always know the right time he’s gonna be there or the right place to sit where he sees you so clearly even in the middle of the court.

everytime you talk to him, everytime you touch him, everytime you say his name or bring him coffee, everytime you watch him play or everytime he sees you outside of work — there is a feeling in his chest and he almost hates it.

“there’s a new ramen restaurant in miyagi that i’ve been wanting to try…” sakusa clears his throat, standing a few inches away from the lockers as everyone gets their shoes on.

it’s a little bit after 4pm, practice for the day had just ended, and well, meian always tells him he needed to socialize more with the rest of the group.

the locker room is stuffy and sweaty and to be honest, he’s never really been fond of the smell wafting in the air, so he always makes it a point to be the first one out the door after he’s done changing.

today though, he stays, hangs around everybody, and even if he hates it, he goes, “does anyone want to come with me tonight?”

hinata looks up at him from his shoes, “sorry omi, gotta take natsu to the dentist after practice, i dunno how long it’ll take us.”

he gives hinata a short nod — that’s fine.

“kaashi and i are seeing a movie around 7, but next time, man, i promise.” bokuto says, his hand on his neck, apologetic, almost.

another nod — that’s fine, too.

well, at least now, sakusa couldn’t say he didn’t try to socialize more. it’s the preferable outcome for him anyway, he’s better going off on it alone.

atsumu’s voice tears him away from his thoughts, loud and too cheerful for someone who just performed 4 diving laps, “i could go with ya, omi!”

and out of instinct, he replies “no, thank you.”

his blond teammate looks like he’s gonna say something after his response but you speak before he gets the chance to.

“well, i don’t mind coming, omi.” you say, and he blinks - how long have you been there?

there’s a knot in his stomach. “tonight?”

(he thinks, please say no, please say no, please say no.)

you nod at him, “it’s gonna be snowing so some ramen would be perfect.”

he nods at you - unable to say anything else, really - and he clears his throat, looking at atsumu, who he’s now just been really appreciative of for existing all of a sudden.

“then it will be you, me, and miya?” he asks, and he wants to keep his voice quiet now, untrusting of it.

(in the corner of his eye, he sees hinata step on atsumu’s foot and he goes “ow, whaddya do that for!” bokuto gives him a look, similar to the one hinata has, and atsumu catches on.)

sakusa gives the three of them a warning look, begging, actually begging, anyone who’d listen in that silly head of his for them not to do anything stupid.

“sorry man,” atsumu flashes him a grin, and he feels his knees go weak. “i forgot i had some plans tonight, i don’t think i’ll be able to go.”

lord, forgive sakusa kiyoomi for he’s gonna kill somebody.

he wants to say something, but before he could, you beat him to it.

“perfect.” you smile, “more for us then. right, omi?”

sakusa swallows the lump in his throat, and gives you a short nod, “yeah.”

you gather your things in your hand, “i’ll come over to your place, then?”

(words that make his knees feel even weaker.)

another nod. “yes, that’s fine.”

and he regains his composure, the worst of it over, but before you turn to leave, you flash him another one of your smiles, and he wishes you would just go so he can feel his pulse return to normal again.

“it’s a date.” you say, and you’re out the door.

sakusa’s face has a whisper of a light pinkishness to it and unable to think about it too much, he blames it on the open window letting the cold in.

the second the door closes, the locker room erupts in cheers, “way to go, omi!” “you’re going on a date!” and “it’s finally happening!”

there’s a knot in his stomach, and atsumu claps him on his back.

he rolls his eyes at the group, shaking his head as he whispers something along the lines of “whatever” or “its not a big deal.”

but his face feels hot and his pulse feels like its drumming against his skin, but, he can blame that on the cold too.

the sun goes down quicker than sakusa hoped it would, it’s 6:47pm now and you’ll be arriving in no later than 13 minutes.

he takes a good look at his apartment, ransacked and messy, the complete opposite of its usual state.

there’s a knock on his door and he feels his heart beat out of his chest at the sound.

he opens it with a fervor, “i asked you to come 30 minutes ago.”

“it’s a 30 minute walk.” behind the door is atsumu, sheepish smile on his face, hands shoved into his pockets as he pushes past the brunette and into the apartment.

“woah, this place is a mess.” atsumu says aloud, even him surprised at the disarray.

“i didn’t know what to wear.” sakusa admits, and he feels embarrassment course through his skin.

“i’ll say.” the blond replies, but he doesn’t tease. “you alright, omi?”

sakusa sighs – he really isn’t. his nerves are killing him and there’s an intense nervousness that pools in his belly. you make him nervous, did you know that?

“maybe i should cancel.” he says, and he looks at himself in the mirror again — coat, scarf, gloves, check, check, check.

“what? don’t do that.” atsumu shakes his head, “it’s five minutes ‘til 7.”

he’s probably right, sakusa thinks, you’re probably on your way by now, and even with the chilling weather outside, he feels way too hot for his own good.

he takes off his gloves to alleviate some of the warmth, placing it on his dresser as he paces.

“you’re an asshole, right?” sakusa says suddenly, “punch me in the face, take me to the ER, and i will reschedule whatever this night is to when i’m readier.”

(he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready, to be honest.)

“even if i do really want to punch you in the face right now, that is so not gonna happen.”

“being your friend is useless to me.”

“yet, i’m the one you called over here.”

the doorbell rings and the both of them freeze in their places, sakusa looks over to the clock and how is it 7 already? and must you be on time for everything?

you’re already here and his place is a mess and atsumu freaking miya is standing in the middle of his apartment.

he says the first thing he can think of, “hide.”

atsumu looks at him, “what?”

he insists, “hide now.”

“are ya nuts? your apartment is a shoebox, where the hell am i hiding in here?” atsumu shakes his head, and he follows sakusa’s eyes in response as he tilts his body to look over to the bed.

“no fuckin way, nuh uh.” he backs away, “i am not hiding under there.”

the doorbell rings again and atsumu feels the nerves getting to him too.

“please. i’ll owe you.”

and atsumu wants to say no - really, he does - he’s not some teenager caught with his pants down and has to be stashed away under a bed, but sakusa looks at him in a way that makes him unrecognizable.

sakusa may not know it, but everyone can tell, every single one of them on the team knows, just how much this means to him.

(after all, the only people in msby black jackals who don’t know that sakusa likes you are sakusa and you.)

so he relents, and he gets on his knees near the bed before he scurries off under it. “you so owe me for this.”

sakusa feels embarassed – ashamed, really. he’s actually invested in this - in this date, and he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not, and he hates it.

he opens the door, and you’re there, and it’s always nice to see you outside of work.

“hi.” he says, and he doesn’t know what else to say.

“hi.” you say back, and for a second, it’s quiet.

another second passes, “can i come in?”

and he wants to kick himself, “yes. of course.”

“it’s freezing tonight.” you make polite small talk, “good thing i wore my coat.”

“it looks nice.” he nods, and he is grateful you don’t say anything about the mess of his apartment. it takes him another beat to realize what he said, and he feels embarrassed, although he doesn’t know why, so he follows up, “the coat.”

he wants to hit himself. he sounds like he’s just talking about the coat.

“you as well.” he says again. “not just the coat, i meant to say. you and the coat are nice looking. both of you.” he wants to stop talking – why is he still talking?

he looks at you, “where’d you - uh - buy it?”

great, now he sounds like he wants to take the fucking coat.

there’s a sound almost like snickering coming from under the bed but before you could look over to it sakusa clears his throat again.

“i’m ready to go,” he says suddenly, “are you?”

you haven’t been able to get a word in all night it seems, but it makes you smile - amused, and you nod, “yes.”

the night starts off okay, it’s quiet though, and he thinks, are dates supposed to be quiet?

“you okay there, omi?” you break the silence, and he wonders if you can tell what he’s been thinking.

“yeah.” a short reply, “just cold.”

you nod, “ah.”

in an effort to keep the conversation going, and the sudden realization that he may be the reason why it’s such a quiet evening, he looks to the side, and tells you, as the two of you walk the pavement to the train station:

“i forgot my gloves.”

there’s a pink hue on his ears, and he’s grateful you don’t tease him about it.

you stop walking for a moment, so he stops too.

he watches you as you work, taking the left glove on your hand off and he says nothing when you ask him to give you his left hand.

“here.” you slip on your left glove on his left hand, and it’s a snug fit, but it is warm.

then you say, “do you mind?”

and he doesn’t know what you’re talking about until you put your - now, ungloved - left hand to his -also, ungloved - right hand. fingers interlacing.

“this way, it’ll stay warm, don’t you think?”

he doesn’t trust his voice and he’s more grateful for the snow now as he finds it being his excuse for how red his ears are getting. he can only nod his head, keeping his nose tucked in under his scarf.

his lips tremble and he’s not so sure if it’s from the cold or from you.

sakusa doesn’t gamble. he doesn’t like the risks of it all. he always feels there’s always gonna be too much to lose rather than gaining anything beneficial for him.

so no – there are very little things in the world he cares enough about for him to risk anything for.

“better?” you say, and he tries harder to focus on your voice rather than your warm hand.

“yes.”

you smile and he thinks it’s really nice. “so, why was atsumu under your bed?”

his face feels hot now, his first instinct to deny that there ever was any man named atsumu under his bed, but he knows that look you’re giving him, and he knows it would be pointless to lie.

still, he doesn’t know what to say to you.

“omi?”

but then again, he never knows what to say to you.

“… i asked him to come help me get ready.”

you tilt your head, “get ready for?”

the silence becomes your answer and sakusa feels his face burn. it feels like embarrassment – but it also feels like something else.

“oh.”

and unexpectedly, you laugh, and when he hears it, for the first time all evening, his nerves finally cool on him, and he laughs too.

you bump your shoulders with his, playful, “if it helps to know, i was nervous too.”

“because of me?” he doesn’t really believe you, he doesn’t think anything can make someone like you nervous, but you, on the other hand, make him nervous all the time.

“well, you don’t really talk to me at work,” you shrug, your voice sounding teasing, “i didn’t think you liked me all that much, to be honest.”

“sorry.” he says in quiet laughter, and he can’t bring himself to look at you.

you look at him though, and he wishes that you wouldn’t. he can hear the smile in your voice still, “for what?”

“for this shitty date.”

that makes you laugh even more and he feels like it’s gonna make him fall over.

“well, we haven’t even gotten to the restaurant yet so jury’s still out on whether it’s shitty or not.” you squeeze his hand, teasing.

(and he rolls his eyes, nerves gone, and feeling much better now that he’s talking to you.)

you are probably the riskiest person he’s ever met. you put everything on the line.

by all things considered, he should stay far, far away from you — you jeopardize it all, you could take all he’s ever worked for away.

but everytime you talk to him, everytime you touch him, everytime you say his name or bring him coffee — there is a feeling in his stomach that envelops his entire body and the corner he’s been backed into doesn’t feel as cold or as confining.

you smile at him and he wants it all: he wants to wake up next to you, he wants to fall asleep and you’re the last person he sees, he wants to drive you to work and he wants you to come home with him after the day is over.

“besides,” you say, and the snow may be cold, but his face feels warm.

your voice is soft, “you can just keep taking me on them until we get it right.”

the risk is you could take everything he’s ever worked for, his game, his career, his reputation, his name. but you smile at him and your hand is warm against his and your laugh feels like it’s gonna make him fall over, and he thinks, okay — take it all, it’s already yours anyway.

[callme-holly]

Heyooo I love ur writing! I saw your inbox was open I was wondering if you could do a johnny cade x soc fem reader who's shy and anti social but a chatterbox when they get close,maybe they can have their first meeting at school?

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐬𝐡𝐲!𝐬𝐨𝐜

a/n: i've been really enjoying writing headcanons and then an imagine. lmk if y'all like it too bc i might carry this style on. tysm for the request!!

You might be a soc, but to Johnny you’re incredibly different from the others—you’re not loudmouthed, you don’t brag about your privileges and you just tend to keep to yourself, which he respects. You tend to just stay in the back of the classroom, following along with whatever you have to do.

A lot of people assume you’re snobbish (especially greasers) and won’t really talk to you because you’re so quiet. If you don’t make an effort, why should they? However, if anyone was to dig any deeper, they’d realise that you are, in fact, just shy and incredibly bad at striking up conversation with new people.

  Johnny always noticed you in class, mainly because you were the only one who never really spoke up, much like him. You were just this quiet, comforting presence amongst the chaos, and he found himself drawn to that. You noticed him too, and while you thought he was you, you never really made the move to talk to him. Not only was he a greaser and you were a soc, but your anxiety also held you back immediately.

The first time y’all actually talk is when you’re both paired up for a project. You’re absolutely mortified at first and stumble over your words, but Johnny is just as awkward, and you both find yourself laughing about it, which brings you two close.

You tend to ramble when you’re nervous, but Johnny never minds; he just sits there with an encouraging smile. The moment you realise he isn’t there to laugh at you or judge you, you really open up.

He loves how comfortable you feel around him, and you two slowly begin to hang out more and more, and your classmates definitely notice the change, especially since they’re seeing you actually talk and interact with someone.

You stared blankly down at the paper that had been placed on your desk, chest tight, and as much as you tried to school your anxiety, you couldn’t help the nerves that slowly began to churn in your stomach.

The print was clear— Partner Project: Assigned Pairs.

Your name, and scrawled next to it, Johnny Cade.

You glanced up, scanning the room quickly, watching as everyone were slowly starting to shuffle to join their partners. And then your eyes landed on him, still sitting in his seat, watching you with a polite, expectant smile. 

You two had never spoken; sure, you’d met each other’s gaze before, and there was silent, mutual respect that had risen between you both, but you’d never engaged in any true interaction other than that. 

Holding your books close to your chest and taking a deep breath, you pushed your way through the throng of people moving between desks, standing awkwardly before him, shuffling like you weren't sure what to do with yourself.

“Uh.. Hey.” His voice was soft, quieter than you’d expect from a greaser, and the smile he gave you was gentle and genuine.

You opened your mouth to respond and promptly forgot how to speak, not a single sound leaving your mouth. You just blinked at him, and Johnny gave a soft chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“Guess we’re partners, huh?”

“Yeah… Yeah.” You stammered, sitting down across from him, setting yor books down in front of you clumsily and offering him an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, and you couldn’t help but jolt in surprise. “You haven’t gotta be nervous. I ain’t gonna judge ya.”

And something shifted in you then, some small part of you relaxing in a way you’d never relaxed around strangers. 

“Im not the best at this type of things---like talking, i mean. Especially with people I dont know and group projects make me super nervous because I dont want to mess it up for somebody else, but i also dont wanna do bad and... oh im sorry im rambling.”

Johnny laughed inr response, shaking his head and waving you off with a casualness that made your heart flutter.

“It’s okay, really. I like listenin’ to ya talk.” 

And, yeah… Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad at all. 

[lostsprit]

"Ford ! What the fuck are you talking about" said stan clearly confused but gentle not to cross the line -if he hadn't done it before-.

And if ford wasn't concerned enough that was enough to make ford commit to the role.

"Stan you dont get to ask these questions when you were the one LOCKED IN THE TRUNK OF A CAR IN BUMFUCK NOWHERE, MEXICO " said ford trying to coax a answer out of him.

"Justgotinsometrouble" he whispered trying to avoid the actual answer. Ford now trying to calm himself down looks into his brother's drooped eyes looking at his floor ....and what was that look he could not put his finger on it..

Oh

Oh

He never wanted to see his brother like that. ..like he looked at his father after listening a handful of berating.

"Tell me what happened " said ford." I dont wanna tell " replied stan . "You know what leave it help yourself around the house" ford said gesturing towards the fridge." I assume you have seen the object of your desire, my lord" dipping the head down trying to lighten the mood. "Ya still play that game eh" stan replies trying to match his energy .

"Hey, what's up with the pyramids and are.... those the..........illuminati ?? " stan asked pointing towards the doors window. Let's not discuss that" ford replies coldly.

Stan not trying to stir the pot " getting really hot in here" "Stan it's the middle of December " said ford deadpan. Ford leaves the room taking a pack of jellybeans and throws a pack of toffee peanuts at stan.

He saw the peanut candy on the kitchen counter top and shudders ...... he hated that oooh he really hated that but when your a seventeen year old kid with no money to your name you cant really be choosy now can you.... heh he still can remember the first few days where all he had was toffee peanuts and free water. And speaking of that why was he here . He should be dead in bumfucked no where , mexico.

Stan was now really confused, first ford was talking to him and hes not DEAD. Was he on a drug trip.. he did get some in Tijuana but he was in his car the last time he remembered so that's not it. Ford was talking about some magic .. alarm spell what was that about.

Now think stan the baby rattle was for shermie, the snow globe for ma and the -stan'owar sailboat for stan........ who was the banjo for. He looked around his house and spotted what was that ..... ma and shermie he really can tell .... he needed glasses ....he really needed glasses but no can do when you break all of 'em plus he did not needed to look like a chump(sorry ford) and then he found what he was looking for a tall,slender and blond looking guy and was his brother wearing...... shorts . Oh times have changed but jokes aside why did he get tattoos.

For all he knew ford was the last person he knew that would get a tattoo let alone four. Ford made it for himself excluding the weird triangle imagery he did it without him .

stop it he doesn't need you.

stop it he is better off without you , you only attract danger.

Danger .. danger oh fuck he forgot about rico and his gang and...and...and his wrist did ford see it. Of course you dimwit he saw it.

stop it

Was he having a panic attack ....nahh he was fine ( that was the moment he knew he fucked up) ok.... hes ok .. ford is here hes ok.

Oooh that ice cream sounds sooo good right now.... oh he should not have eaten that sandwich not when you have nothing in your stomach other than weeks old burrito or was it the stolen kidney but why did he have to take his car he took his kidney alright he doesn't know . Things were getting dizzy.

Thump

.

..

...

Ford was in the other room trying to -kill- find whoever did this to stan when he heard a thump on the ground. What was it ....

Oooh weeee I did it .... it took 1hr but i did it.

Tag time bby. @biggirlscantcry ( I wanna show u this) @aroace-get-out-of-my-face

@thenoellebird( we need some fluff)

Stan wakes up, his head throbbing and his whole body aching, to find himself laying on a bed. A very comfortable bed.

Which is weird, since the last thing he remembers is passing out from the heat inside the trunk he was shoved into.

Groggily, and a bit nauseous, he pushes himself to his elbows and looks around. Then, he notices there are damp towels on top of his arms, torso, neck and forehead. Okay, that's even more weird.

He finds a cup of water on top of the drawer next to the bed, which also has a piece of paper with something written in it. Curious, he takes the note and brings it closer to his face so he can read it.

He immediately recognizes the impeccable cursive handwriting.

"Stan, if you're reading this, it means I have gone out to buy some groceries. I left a cup of water for you to drink, and if you're feeling better you can help yourself to anything from the kitchen. I only ask that you try to keep yourself hydrated. And maybe take a shower, if you're feeling up to it. I'll be back soon

- Ford"

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~ AGAIN, MAYBE?

Tw; p in v sex, nsfw, MDNI, idk tbh, comfort, insecure!reader, shy!reader, simon riley things again <3 and yes, chubby reader/ curvy.

Some people lay their life out in front of you like they are a book, ready to be read, wanting to be read. It was easy to make friends with those people, they were friendly, they wanted to be around others. That was you. And there was him. Reserved, quiet, a book that refuses to open, locked with the key thrown into the ocean, you have to break it up just to read the first page. He hated people, he hated being around people.

There we went again, spiraling into the void. The sunshine isn't supposed to meet the moon but once in a lifetime, it happens. You were looking at him with doe eyes, staring like he was the prettiest man you've ever seen, from across the coffee shop. And it made him hungry. Curious, interested. What's a pretty bunny like you doing, staring at the big bad wolf? Like he wants to bite into your neck. You were hoping he wanted to. You stared like you could take him. You stared like you could handle him. It made him almost smirk, laugh at the thought. You, a pretty small little thing? But listening to your friends for 5 minutes talking about how "you should totally, no, need to go there", you caved in. You swallowed as you held your hands together in front of you and blushed, walking towards him. "..Ex-excuse me.." He slowly turned towards you. He raised an eyebrow and when he saw you, he smirked. He tilted his head, "What do ya need?" He asked, like he didn't already know. You swallowed, words almost stuck in your throat. "Well, I was wondering.. Maybe, you know, if you were uhm.. Interested? And not taken of course uhm.. If you would give me your-.." He fully turned towards you and crossed his arms. He smirked fully and cut you off. "You want my number, sweet thing?" He asked before you finished your sentence. You were rambling like you were doing it to save your life. He found it adorable, he found it amusing how you were actually brave enough to come up to him. You sighed and nodded, defeatedly. "Yeah.." You looked away, expecting rejection more than anything, when he stood up and put his rough hands on your soft cheeks, caressing it. "How about this, sweetheart? I'll take you out to dinner tonight, like a real gentleman. And if you decide you still want it, I'll give it to you." He said, his thumb still working it's way to give you the butterflies you never had before. You nodded, now turning as pink as your lip gloss. He smiled and spoke. "Great. Meet me out here at 6, alright pretty? Wear something cute." He said, and let go of you, and gestured his head to your friends. "Run along now love." And so you did. For some reason your feet moved on it's own when your friends looked at you with a smirk, amusement and utter happiness, excitement for you. Looks like you have a date. ~~

And you showed up right exactly at the time, no later, maybe a little early. He showed up in semi fancy clothing, nothing too much, no suit or anything, just not casual clothes either. You wore a pretty dress, and it surprised him. Not how pretty you were. He knew from the start you'd look like a damn fucking angel if you come here, the thing that surprised him was your braveness. You actually came, and it was a little shocking. Foolish little bunny. He grabbed your hand, softly. Way more gentle than what he actually looked like he would be. Rough on the outside, gentleman on the inside. He brought you to his car and opened the door for you. Once he also got into the car, he reached behind your seat. He pulled out pretty red roses and spoke as he handed them to you. "Didn't know what you'd like, so figured I couldn't go wrong with roses." For the first time, he sounded nervous, his cocky confident attitude gone for a second. He sounded like he was afraid you'd hate it, in a way. You smiled at him, and looked at him in his gorgeous brown eyes. His heart skipped a beat, but not just metaphorically. He swallowed and he felt the feeling of something crawl up his stomach. You spoke, in the softest tone he's ever heard. "Thank you. They are very pretty.. uh.." You trailed off, realizing you don't even know his name yet. He smiled. "Simon. It's Simon, love." You smiled back at him, and spoke. "Mine's *name,*" You said, fidgeting with your fingers. He noticed, he noticed every bit of you. It made him hungry. But not yet, he couldn't, not yet. He spoke with a tone a little darker than before, but it's barely noticeable. He smiled. "What a pretty name, for a pretty girl." He said, and looked at you up and down. You just had to wear a dress with the prettiest laces at the end of your thighs, didn't you? He swallowed visibly. He drove to the restaurant in mostly silence, trying to keep the talking to the date. He put on some music, even told you to do it, he wanted to know your favorite songs to rail you to to listen to.

The restaurant was very pretty. People weren't noisy, it was well built and people followed the rules. Like an elite restaurant, just not really. You were amused, you were surprised by how beautiful everything was all around. Practically in shocked, you gasped. "Woah.. Such a pretty view." Simon didn't take his eyes off of you as he swallowed and looked at your face. He spoke quietly. "Yeah. Mesmerizing.." As he snapped himself out of it and got your reservation. He smiled at the receptionist and admittedly you wish it was towards you. You two sat down and ordered. The start is always awkward, but the tension quickly broke with him cracking a joke about the food here and you two started talking about your favorite foods. He listened to your every word like you were teaching him the ways of life. Your favorite drink, favorite food, how you eat your favorite food. Everything you said just stayed in his mind, locked up in a memory of his most treasured events that were already filled with two encounters. You coming up to him, and now you having dinner with him. Towards the end of the date, you got yourself a little tipsy, but still completely aware of what you were doing. You were already sobering up when you started being more bold, making jokes. Cracking a joke about the waiter being into him, you smiled as you made it. Something about how handsome and perfect he must be, for everyone around him to want him. He looked surprised. "What do you mean by everyone around me?" He asked, with one of his eyebrow raised. Questioning you. You smiled and rolled your eyes, the alcohol hitting enough to be a bold truth serum, you spoke. "Everyone in this place probably wants to get on their knees and suck your cock." Bold. You didn't even realize what you just said, as the second of silence passed and it hit you. But it was too late. His eyes darkened and he practically stared at you hungry, but not for the food anymore. His tone lowered as he asked, "Do you?" And you didn't know what to say. The alcohol in you didn't want you to deny and lie, but the mature version of you in your mind begged you to not agree, begged you to not seem like a desperate little bitch. But you didn't have to say anything. Your breathing quickened and your thighs pushed together at the thought and he noticed. Every single part of your body, every single thing about you, he noticed. The flush on your cheeks. It made him wanna stop holding back on you. Made him wanna go feral, fuck, it made him go feral. Drove him crazy. And suddenly, he smirked. A challenge.

"Like you could handle it, bunny." It echoed in your head. Bunny. Your eyes widened and you took it as a challenge, too far gone in your head as you swallowed and you screamed "Fuck it, fuck you" in your head to the only part of you that was still somewhat smart. And you spoke. "You wanna bet on that, Riley?" You called his last name. He loved it and tilted his head. "Let's ditch this fucking place, then." Yes, absolutely. Let's do it. For fucks sake, did you really just do that? Did you really just get yourself into that? your cheeks felt hot as he rushed to pay for the damn dinner and practically pulled you out of the damn restaurant, a starved, hungry man. Won't you be kind enough to feed him love? He's so hungry for you. He swallowed and he opened the door for you again, making sure to still be a gentleman even while wanting to rip your clothes off with his teeth. He was feral, like a dog. He drove home the quickest he could and the second you stepped foot into the stupid apartment and he could lock the door, the only reaction you could have was, "Wow, this is huge" before he was already on you. Kissing your lips like it was a lifeline, holding onto you like you were his savior. He needed this. He needed you. You were such a brave, stupid little bunny, walking right into his arms and practically begging him for this. Wouldn't it be rude to refuse? By the time your first kiss with him ended, you were panting an so was he. He started unzipping your dress from the back, and his lips travelled down to your neck.

He picked you up, which caught you off guard. He carried you to his bed, stopping his lips from wandering just until he got to his bedroom and placed you on the bed. He got on top of you and put one of his hands on your cheek, while the other he used his elbow for support. He held himself on top of you, his lips pressing kisses down your collarbone. You breathed heavy, speaking. "..I expected you to be more rough, if I'm being honest." But he shook his head. He stopped and looked up from your collarbone into your eyes as he spoke, "Not tonight." He wanted to be gentle as long as he could be. He knew he would lose it eventually. So he would do it as long as he could. He reached your breasts with his kisses and looked up again, waiting for your consent. Begging for it, begging for you. You whispered. "Go ahead, Simon.." And he slid your top half of the dress off of you. He started kissing down your breasts, leaving hickeys everywhere he could get his mouth on. He then slowly slid the bottom half of your dress down and sat up. He swallowed. How was he supposed to hold back, with a body like that? You tried to sit up too, but he immediately pushed you back down, practically glaring into your eyes. "You told me you could handle it, bunny. You're gonna handle it, without moving." He looked at your underwear and smirked. Lacy and red. What a combo, you really did that for him? He looked at you and he slowly slid his hand inside. He whispered. "Cheeky, did you plan this out?" You swallowed, feeling his cold thumb start to rub against your clit. "N-no.." And you swear you didn't, not at all. You were simply.. hoping. He slid two fingers inside, and his eyes widened. Why the hell were you so tight? Did you really think that with tightness like this you could handle him? He swallowed. He spoke. "I've got you filled by just two measly fingers, bunny. How do you think this is gonna work out? You really wanna take me on?" And you already felt numbed, because you had never been this filled before. You swallowed. "I want it. I want it, Simon- I need it. I need you. Please?" You begged. And how could he refuse when you look at him like that? But not yet. He swallowed and he used his fingers to stretch you out further, as much as he could. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, and he leaned down to kiss you, muffling your moans that were starting to get louder. He whispered to you, against your lips. "Come on now, baby. You don't want my neighbors hating me, do you?" He teased. He smirked, and you shook your head no, but it wasn't good enough for him. He stopped moving his fingers. "Words, bunny." You swallowed and looked at him with frustration. "W-what are you doing? keep moving! Si- Simon!" You demanded, like you deserved it. And that amused him. "You're in no position to demand anything. Are you, bun?" He asked, mockingly. He tilted his head as he looked at you and you swallowed, once you realized he was serious. "N-No. I'- I'm sorry." His smirk widened and he started moving his fingers, faster than before, this time he was trying to make you cum. He let out a loud groan and he spoke in a raspy tone, "There's a good girl." And that was all you needed. You released all over his fingers and he pulled his fingers out with a satisfied, sadistic look on his face. "Look at what a fucking mess you made, sweetheart. Look at this. Is this how you treat your host, huh? What kind of guest are you baby?" Your cheeks flushed as he talked like that. It was embarrassing. But you loved it, and he loved it. He loved the look on your face every time he spoke like that. He looked into your eyes much more seriously now. "You think you're ready?" He asked, pulling your panties down. You looked at him, and slowly spoke. "Yes. Yes Simon. I want this, I want you."

He swallowed and slowly unzipped his pants. He pulled his boxers down, and he seemed nervous. Not insecure, nervous. He didn't wanna hurt you, and when you saw it, you just couldn't understand. You guessed it wouldn't be small at all, but for it to be big and pretty? Was completely ridiculous. You swallowed at the size, preparing yourself mentally for it to hurt. Because you knew it would. He spoke again. "If you want to back out of this, say no, you have to tell me now-" You cut him off. "I want it, I want it inside me." And he snapped. He didn't have any more questions, he just slowly put himself inside you. He looked at you. At your uncomfortable expression. It hurt at first. It hurt so bad, but after letting yourself adjust to his size, he felt like heaven. He started slow, moving in and out and looking at you. You looked so sexy, your moans got so much louder than before. He loved it. He craved to see more. "You're so fucking beautiful, angelic," He said, looking at you. He started to hurry his pace up, breathing heavy. He needed you. Fastening his pace again, more and more. "Si-Simon, sl-slow down! I'm n-not going a-ah! Anywhere.." But he wasn't listening. He couldn't even hear you, pussydrunk and drunk on how beautiful you are. He couldn't focus on anything but the pleasure and how good you looked under him. Muscle memory, maybe, but he suddenly put his thumb on your clit again. Rubbing it, fast, and it made you scream his name louder than ever, snapping him out of his state. His eyes widened as he realized what just happened- you squirted. He was satisfied, and he fastened his pace, not even stopping for a second. You were overstimulated, your mind begging for a break, your body took it like it needed it. He was chasing his own release. "You look like a fucking angel, bunny. You look beautiful. You drive me crazy, you fucking know that? Drove me crazy even from the first moment you stared at me. Pretty fucking bunny thinking she can handle me.." He rambled. "I wanted you since the start. And that pretty red dress you were wearing? Fuck, bun. You look perfect. You belong here, you belong under me. Don't you baby?" All you could do was moan, "Y-yes-, all yours Simon- all yours.." "Is tha' right baby? Yer all mine? All my baby? All mine, huh? Mine to fuck, mine to own? Mine to treat, huh?" He asked, looking down at you. "Y-yes Simon.. Yours.. all yours, for-forever.. My body is all yours." And his eyes snapped open at that, fully. Fuck yes, you're his. His release came crashing down on him and he panted on top of you. He pulled out of you before falling next to you, and he looked at you, panting heavy. He smiled at you. You looked beautiful. You leaned over to press a kiss on his lips, and he smiled. He spoke, his voice much more gentle. "..You wanna go on a date? Again, maybe?" You smiled, and wrapped your arms around him. A silent yes. When you realized something- Did you forget to take your plan B pill?

A/N: HIYIOOOOO i hope you guys enjoy this fanfic too lmfao idk anymore tbh, I love yall, sorry if this was rushed it was my first fic writing ACTUAL smut BTW my requests are ALLLLLL open, commisions r also open <3

[ysrjune]

Idk why my asks keep disappearing but..

Fuckboy Scott smutt pretty please..? Hate sex 🥹

PWEASE JUNE GRACE ME WITG A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN

Scott plow me into the headboard please and thanks

—🫧

* THAT BOY IS A REAL PUSSY PLEASER .ᐟ

I love u Nicki🥰🤞🏻 it's not ovulation week but I'm acting like it is #needsomedick #jokebutnotajoke

"mhm, you like that?" The dirty blond calls from behind you. Your back was arched, ass meeting his hips with every thrust. "no!'' you pant, shaking your head. "Really? are you sure about that, mama? 'Cuz the way you're fuckin' me is sayin' otherwise." He smirks pulling on your head. "You know you fuckin' love this." He bends down to whisper in your ear. "'S okay to admit it. Just for right now."

"Shut the fuck up 'n just keep doing what you are." You shake your head, reaching behind yourself for him. "Aw baby, you wanna hold my hand?" Scott holds onto your hand and caresses your knuckle with his thumb. "Yeah, you love me. I know you do." With the other hand, his hand smacks your ass, leaving his handprint.

"Turn around, I wanna see that cute face." He pulls out.

Now, he was fucking you and staring right into your eyes. "I fucking h-hate you." You suck in a breath right as he pulls out to run his length right between where you wanted him. "I don't exactly like you either, baby, but this pussy's just too irresistible. maybe your face, too." his eyes shift down to your shirt. "fuck. how is it that I've fucked you almost three times already and I've never seen your titties, mm?" his hands shoves the fabric up.

"even better than I imagined." He holds onto one, caressing the hardening peak. "right back in there.." He holds the base of his dick and slides back in with ease. "Auhh yeah.." He moans. "Yeah, give it t'me." His throws his head back for a second, biting his lip. He was so fucking annoying, rude, self-centered, and overall just a red-flag.. but damn, he was so damn hot.. literally. His bangs were messed up, a few strands glued to his face by sweat. And speaking of sweat.. the way it was dripping down his chest and neck.. my God.

That drop of sweat heading all the way from his Adam's apple, down to his chest as he rolled his head back down to stare at your tits was so attractive. He watched them bounce, making him whimper. Feeling your tight cunt squeezing him and watching your bouncing titties? he was in heaven. "You stupid whore." His voice was raspy and sounded tired. "Mmn.. uh.. auh-mn," He makes sweet noises while pounding into your wet cunt.

"are you gonna cum already?" you tsk, rolling your eyes. "thought you said you could last like an hour." You try and tick him off. "Oh, I could.. I just.. fuck.. you feel too good, angel." He pants, throwing your leg over his shoulder, reaching in deeper. both of you moan, staring at each other's chests.. well, you were looking at his abs. the way they flexed and the way his chest went up and down as he moaned.. #getmepregnant

"I'm so close, don't stop." You hold your hand to his chest. "cum all over my dick, sweetheart, there's nothing I want more right now." He keeps his speed the same. "maybe except for Stacy. Fuck, you don't know how nice her tits are. big 'n squishy." Of course he had to try and ruin the moment by pissing you off. He always does. You would've stopped this right when he said that if you weren't so close to your organs.

"I can't wait to hook up with Vince later.. his dick is pierced, ya know? thought it would hurt, but it actually feels really good when he's fucking me." You rile him up in return. If he was allowed to talk shit, so were you. "Cherry has her nipples piereced.. you should ask her to show you." He furrows his eyebrows, trying to concentrate on his and.. maybe your orgasm.

Continuing to make each other mad, he finally whined about it. "shut up! I'm the one making you feel good, not Vince." He connects your lips desperately. "please cum for me, baby, yea—mmn.. please. fuck, I wanna make you cream all over me. Wanna see it." He begs, now staring at the place where you two connect. He spits and loses his mind over how his saliva strings from his cock to your clit with every thrust.

Just a couple more stokes, and you were finished. He pulled out a second before he came, sliding himself through your folds to help him through it. "fuck.." He rolls over on the bed and whimpers into a pillow. "You always make me so tired."

"I'm not tired." You sit up and grab klinex from his bedside and clean yourself up and change back into your clothes. "Good job, I guess. I have to go. I need to meet someone." You wink and leave his dorm.

Is she fucking serious? He thinks.

stupid bitch.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[luigisleftshoe]

Dating Luigi Headcanons

How it starts:

Yall probably meet at like one of three places; some activity like surfing (you get a sneak peek of him shirtless in board shorts), at a bar and your trying to play pool and he’s like “ actually 🤓 you need to hold the stick like this” (man was actually just trying to flirt with you and he didn’t know how to), or HEAR ME out like a random niche gym class you both signed up for and your both just there like 🧍‍♀️🧍

First date I feel like is like slightly unhinged actually?? Like this man wouldn’t go straight for like “let’s get dinner together” the man wants to do an escape room to see how compatible you guys are at solving puzzles together ? Yall will progress to dinner tho

Also like I look at his Virgo moon and Aries Venus and I’m just like I feel like Luigi would lowkey play hard to get. Not in like the he likes to be chased way but more of a he’s like very anxious in commitment. Like it takes a lot for this man to be like yes ! Were bf and gf! Ya know like he really has to be warmed up to the idea

Anyways!

He takes a stupidly long time to actually confess that he likes you too! Like you’ll be there 3 “friend dates deep” and haven’t even held hands. But once he does it’s very heartfelt and dramatic and you know he’s using his hands a lot to try and convey how he feels. Definitely would prefer a friends to lovers type beat

That’s also not to say he hasn’t had his fair share of hookups bc look at that man who wouldn’t want him. But like he’s not just gonna bring anyone home to his mom ya know. Also italian-Americans boys are massive mamas boys imo so if he’s bringing someone home HES BRINGING HIS PERSON HOME. Like Look, Luigi would treat introducing you to his family as basically a marriage proposal ok. Not everyone gets to be brought home to his family and he will be stressing about it for weeks beforehand like it’s a final boss battle.

Being together:

The man loves being domesticated??? Legitimately it’s his favorite thing. Grocery shopping? A date! Washing dishes together? A date! Fixing a leaky sink together? Basically foreplay.

Bro he would love it if you hopped in the cart while grocery shopping and just directed him around and what to get. he’ll love pushing you around, but after like 5 minutes he’s dramatically like,“Okay my turn, get out. It’s my turn” And man would be a sassy king about it too.

Like you’ll reach for a random olive oil and he’s already behind you like,“No. We get the good one. That one’s disrespectful. Put it back.”

He’s surprisingly (not at all) very bossy but not in a jerk way, more of a him putting his hand on the small of your back and steering you left in the grocery aisle because “Babe, trust me, the good bakery section’s this way.”

Also he would be constantly glued to you when your at home together. Like everything is a group activity. You’re trying to wash dishes? He’s behind you, arms around your waist, doing absolutely nothing helpful but insisting, “No I’m helping, moral support.” You’re folding laundry? He’s throwing socks at you and laughing when you miss.

OHMYGOD he would be so serious about home improvement projects. Full engineer mode. It doesn’t matter that his engineering is not at all close to the project you're doing. He's got out his protractor and man is hard at work. And he would fully try and reenact like a porno trope of OHMYGOD the sexy maintaince man has come to service you 😏😏 while waggling his eyebrows.

Busts out unnecessary tools just for the aesthetic. You’re hanging one (1) picture frame and he’s got a full toolbox laid out like a weapons montage scene in a spy movie. Leveler? Check. Protractor? Check. Stud finder? Beeping it against his own chest like “guess I found one.”

OH and he will INSIST on doing it shirtless “because he’s sweating.” And it’s like sir you unscrewed two screws why are you shirtless. No ones complaining ab it tho.

He has absolutely zero chill once you praise him. You say one thing like “Wow you’re so handy,” and he short circuits. Immediately ten times cockier. “You know I could totally redo the whole kitchen. Build you a greenhouse. Knock down a wall. Babe we could have an open floor plan in like two weekends.” Man would be threads deep in Reddit that night trying to figure out how to rebuild your entire house just the way you want.

I feel like once this man is in he’s in and he’s absolutely whipped. Man is so obviously down bad for you and he doesn’t even care he’ll own every time his friends give him shit for it. Like “stay pressed you can barely get a tinder date”

Would insist on you stealing his clothes. Would purposely leave a hoodie draped over your couch like “Oh nooo I guess you have to wear it now, crazy how that happens.” But also the man like rotates the same closet from 8th grade so lowkey he starts running out of clothes v quickly if you steal them.

Gets quietly obsessed with your hobbies.You start painting? He’s randomly showing up with watercolor sets. You like baking? He’s researching recipes to try with you. Literally acts like whatever you love is now his life’s purpose too. He would absolutely die on the spot if you expressed interest in his too he’d be so happy.

Will never, ever, EVER forget anniversaries, milestones, or inside jokes.

Also just wanna say the man likes to argue for the sake of arguing. Like to be fair he probably is right but when he isn’t he doesn’t stop bc he just loves the debate. Lowkey gets turned on by it if it’s a good debate

Also idk why I have this feeling but I just know this man loves to get high and fuck up overcooked with you.

“Babe, trust me, I’m cracked at this game. I’m basically Gordon Ramsay.” 20 minutes later he’s screaming because he’s accidentally thrown a pot of soup into a trash can.

He gets high and turns into a full-blown Overcooked tyrant. Barking fake orders like “YOU’RE ON TOMATO DUTY, MOVE MOVE MOVE!!” Running around in circles on the screen shouting “WHERE’S THE PAN?! WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?! WHO BURNED THE ONIONS?!” (It was him. He burned the onions.)

He absolutely BLAMES YOU for everything that goes wrong. “Babe you’re supposed to be dicing! Why are you just standing there?!” Meanwhile he’s throwing chopped lettuce at a plate that’s already on fire.

He’s losing every level but he’s like “One more time. We’ll get three stars this time. I have a new strategy.”(His strategy is yelling louder.)(I’ve never met a quiet Italian man in my life)

Afterwards he cuddles you and swears you’re a terrible teammate but he wouldn’t want anyone else. He’s laying on you like a weighted blanket, mumbling into your shoulder, “You’re the worst line cook but the best girlfriend. You can’t teach that kind of loyalty.”

Hes way more protective than he possessive

Like Walks on the street side of the sidewalk without thinking about it. Steps between you and a guy being weird at a bar. Double-checks your locks without even saying anything. Notices when you’re tired or uncomfortable before you even say anything and adjusts.

If a guy flirts with you? His vibe would be less “blow up and make a scene” and more “laughs coldly, stares daggers, and tightens his grip on your hand.”

Below the belt:

He’s way more dominant than he acts day-to-day. He’s playful and flirty outside the bedroom. But once the tension tips over? He’s heavy, needy, in charge, and a little mean (in a sexy way). “You’re not getting away from me tonight.”

Man is a golden retriever by day but night is a different story

Grips your hips, manhandles you easily, but with that slow patience — dragging it out because he likes hearing you beg a little

Slow build king. As he should be tho. Foreplay lasts forever if he has his way.

Kisses down your chest like he’s savoring a wine tasting flight. Hands everywhere — mapping you out like he’s learning you on purpose. Whispering stupid cocky things between kisses like “you’re not even ready for me yet, babe.”

Really into control( we’ve all seen how big his hands are you know he likes to put them around your throat)lowkey would love to sleep spooning with his hand around your neck. Loves when you tug at his shirt, moan for him, grab at his arms.The second you show him you want him to take it further, it’s over.He switches into that possessive slow dominance mode instantly.“Good girl. That’s all you had to say.”

He’s a growler, not a moaner. When he gets frustrated (aka you’re teasing him too much)? You’re gonna hear him low-growl “quit playin’ with me.” It’s half warning, half promise, and it always ends with you absolutely wrecked.

HES A MUNCH. I KNOW A MUNCH WHEN I SEE ONE

Will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him. Turns it into a game — how long can he keep you trembling, gasping, falling apart on his mouth? Spoiler: longer than you can handle

[bigassmoth]

Belphegor who really likes you. Wants you in his lap, in his arms, kissing his face and brushing his hair. "Why're ya standin there? Only thing ya need to worry about is me. Come'ere" He only wants to wake up to you- to the point where Beleth has used a photo of you taped to a bodypillow to get him up.

Speaking of body pillows- Belphegor gets a dakimakura of you.

When you are too tired to pleasure him (because he was fucking you in his sleep while Beleth held you in place), Belphegor can easily get himself off to you. Your image, your scent, your voice, and your taste can and will be used as fap material. Collecting your sweat and cum onto his fingers and rubbing it onto the tip of his cock. Asking you questions to make you talk, so he can feel the subtle vibrations of your voice on his dick. "Your legs...spread 'em. Just like that. Let me look atcha" Just sitting back and drooling over your body. He especially loves to jackoff to you when youre asleep next to him. Niflheim devils have caught on that this is the best/worst time to ask him questions because Belphegor is awake but he wants to stay focused on admiring you. Will tell any devil to "shut the fuck up if ya know whats good fer ya." If they start yelling while you sleep. Protective despite being lazy. If you are ever in need of anything you know to go to him. "Its a pain in the ass if you keep actin all fine. *pats his lap* sit down, theres no posturin' around me." Its a point of pride for Belphegor and it almost makes being as strong as he is worth all the trouble it brings him. You came here for him to comfort you right? So crawl into his bed and let him fuck you to sleep. Or if you are too fatigued, he will coax you asleep and then masturbate. He will figure out a way to deal with your problems, because its more bothersome to see you stressed. Then, nap time. Just like how he will hump or fuck you in his sleep, Belphegor will also rub your back and thighs in a soothing way. Since youre being his personal body pillow, he figures he owes you some back rubs (although any actual massage will be given via Beleth).

"Hows everything bothersome but the one thing I want to be bothered by? Maybe they wont be so busy if a few countries go missing..." thankfully he sleeps most of the time.

[kay-great]

Invincible Variant! X Reader

Invincible X Reader

Invincible Variant! OC X Reader

Okay so I’ve seen a LOT of different versions of reader & variant’s relationships- but what if reader WAS a variant themselves? Like Spider-Gwen, or Captain Britain vibes. So in reader’s dimension, Mark and reader were together, but then Mark died, and so reader took on the mantle of Invincible!!

But then Invincible war breaks out.. and Angstrom is careless in what all the variants want out of his deal.

Gore (nothing worse than the show),female reader, some dub-con groping, fondling, and kissing. Some variants believe in facist ideologies, there is also a mention of cutting an arm on purpose, but it is not related to suicide.

(reader x invincible), (reader x invincible variants), I guess also (reader x invincible variant oc)? It’s the one from your dimension- who you fall in love with first.

This was supposed to be an Imagine. :,D !! Somehow it turned into this!! Took me actual DAYS and NIGHTS to finish. Like OVER A WEEK cuz I’m SLOW and PICKY.

But it’s here now. I broke my back writing this so please enjoy!! (And please leave a comment? Please I love them so much okay thankssss)

—————————————————————————————————————

-When you first met Mark Grayson, he had knocked on your door and asked if you liked Seance Dog. You were 10 and he was 9, but he was more fun than the other neighborhood kids, so you allowed yourself to become friends with a 9-year-old (which, when you were 10, you thought was a BIG deal- it wasn’t)

You couldn’t hang out at school very much, because you were in different grades. But you would sit together at lunch, and during recess you would play ‘superhero’ and William would play ‘Damsel in Distress’ lmao

Despite neither of you having powers, you were both convinced that someday you would be the “bestest, most strongest super hero pair ever in the history of the world” -as recounted by Debbie

Around 14, you noticed that sometimes your hands would brush together, and you’d stop breathing for a moment. Or he’d laugh at a joke you made, and you’d think about the way his eyes crinkled for days on end. And you’d realized you had a tiny, itty bitty little crush on your best friend

You wondered for a while if it was one-sided, but one day while you were hanging out with both Mark and William, the pair kept acting suspiciously

“Sooooo y/n, have you ever had a boyfriend before? Are you into younger guys? Cuz I know a great pick on the Market”

William received a small jab to the ribs by Mark, nevertheless persisted-

“See what I did there? Mark-et?”

“Will!!” Mark gritted out sideways, desperately trying to hide the conversation from you (and failing). It was adorable really, he was such the dork.

“Ugh, You know I hate being called Will”

“It’s true Mark, I’ve heard him say that before” you chimed in, having caught on to William’s game.

“Well maybe I’ll call him what he deserves, especially if he doesn’t shut the hell up about private conversations, ya know?” The last few words were gritted through sandpaper and then stabbed at William.

-But it didn’t matter, you were 90% sure that this meant Mark had told William about feelings! For you! You finished your vague taunting of Mark with the biggest grin on your face- by the time he had successfully moved the conversation on, your cheeks were sore

-but before you could act on your newfound discovery, you started Highschool. And freshman year was really rough. Especially without Mark.

-at lunchtime it really hit you how alone you were. How had you invested so much of your friendship towards the neighborhood dork and his sassy friend? Damn! Sitting alone every fucking day sucks ass.

-afterschool is better. Sometimes, it’s hard to connect with Mark. Your lives feel so different now, since he’s still not in Highschool yet, but you both make the effort, and it feels like the only relationship in your life (other than your parents) where you feel genuine care and attention

-actually, you start doing homework together. This dimension’s Mark isn’t just a dork, he’s also a HUGE nerd, and so doing Highschool homework is light work for him. Specifically science!

-one afternoon while munching on sliced apples-which Mark’s mom prepared for you guys- you confide in him how lonely you feel during the school day, and how most of your friends in your classes don’t really care about you.

“I wish things could be like how they were when we were kids” Cruch. Juicy apple dribbles down your chin a little. “I mean, when we thought we were gonna be superheros? And we wore towels like capes- and we ran from driveway to driveway?”

-your fond smile entrances him. Damn, he has such a huge crush on you. Yeah, of course he remembers those days. It kills him that the year had been so hard for you. That he can’t be there for you during the day. Because he should be. He’s your best friend!! And maybe he wants to be more than that, but even if you never reciprocate those feelings, he will always be there for you!! If only there was something he could do… he asks,

“Didn’t we have superhero names? Wasn’t I like,, indestructible or something like that?”

Invincible. It was Invincible, it is invincible, it will be Invincible. But he’s gotta sound ~nonchalant~. He can’t be caught caring too much about kid stuff in front of his year-older hot best frien-

“You were [titlecard], dummy.”

Oh you were so perfect. You remembered! Of course you did! You’re such a dork! But in a cool way, the coolest dork, you continued-

“and I was ‘Unstoppable’. And our catch phrase was ‘an unstoppable force meets-“

“-an immovable object’.” He joined in. God, weren’t you both just perfect together? Such dorks!! He thought you were perfect, even if you didn’t invite him to the Sadie-Hawkins dance. Which you didn’t, by the way. He noticed. You probably thought he wouldn’t notice but he did.

-he understands; I mean, not only was he a year younger than you, he was also quite literally a grade-A nerd. But that’s okay- he’ll find a way to make sure you achieve your dreams of being the greatest superheros in the world! And then you’ll be partners for real, and he can make sure you never feel so alone..

-the science behind the idea was easy really. it was the equipment that was difficult to figure out. He couldn’t get his hands on a syringe, so he has to skip it, and slowly bleed out his arm manually- with a knife. Why? Because he was gonna make you into a superhero

-see; he knew his dad was Omni-man, and therefore one day he was gonna inherit his dad’s super incredible powers. From there, becoming a superhero would surely be a piece of cake! The difficulty was how to get YOU to be a superhero with him

-you didn’t have any powers, and he had met your dad many times- nice guy, definitely not harboring any secret super-human abilities. That meant you needed to “have greatness thrust upon you” (he would certainly like to thrust anything upon you)

-he figures that he can somehow take his own DNA, and create a mimicry that will attach to your system. Then, you’ll get his powers at the same time as him!

-it’s bloody, it’s messy, it hurts, there’s many failed attempts, but it’s all worth it for you!!

-he works on the perfect solution for years, and by then you’re a junior in Highschool and you’ve sort of moved on from the whole superhero dream. After all, now that William and Mark are in Highschool with you, your loneliness epidemic has seriously subsided. You don’t have as much need for fantasies anymore. Your reality is enough for you now. But it’s not enough for Mark. He doesn’t forget. And he slowly starts slipping you the concoction.

“Hey Mark! I saved you a seat. Did your mom make that punch again?” You scootch over on the long blue cafeteria table, making room for your friend to sit down.

“Yes yes, here’s your bottle. You know sometimes I wonder if the only reason you sit with me at lunch is for the punch,” He teases as he tosses the small red water bottle as you.

“You’re on to me,” you glint as you catch it with ease, latching down onto the well-chewed nib and sucking in- it was almost lewd if Mark allowed himself to think it. “I mean what does she put in this stuff? It’s too fucking good.”

His blood, He muses. Or at least a tiny amount of it, rearranged into a compound that is meant to seal his viltrimite genetics on top of your human ones. Very specific to you. Took him years to figure it out. Literal blood, metaphorical sweat, and literal tears. Oh and also Gatorade, Minute Maid lemonade, and mango juice- to mask the copper taste. Although apparently you liked it. And that thought rang through Mark’s brain late at night. That you liked the taste of him.

-And you liked it so much, you asked for it everyday. It hurt his soul a little to have to give the credit to his mom, even though he was the one making it. but you would know something was up if he told the truth. and besides, you’ll know the truth someday- and then he’ll finally get his praise. You’ll be soo grateful he did all that work for you. He was sure that you’d make the best superhero duo- and hopefully, finally maybe more.

“Oh god, you better not be talking about juice again. ” William butted in and sat down at the table, earning some chortles from the two of you. “Let’s talk about how I’m going to survive this geometry class instead.”

The world was perfect with just the three of you. It made sense. But it wouldn’t soon.

—-

-when Mark got his powers after his seventeenth birthday, you got yours at the same time. And then everything changed. You were going to go to college, but now you have powers? Like- pretty insanely fucking powerful powers?? Where the hell did this come from?? What the fuck triggered this? You hadn’t recently fallen into a nuclear vat of acid that you were aware of. What do you do? Who do you tell?

-you dont get the chance to answer your own questions, Mark is knocking at your WINDOW later that afternoon.

“Holy Shit! Mark! You’re fucking flying!!”

“Yes! Isn’t it great? Can you fly too? Fuck, did it work? Please tell me it worked”

“Did what work? And get in the room for the love of-! The whole neighborhood is going to see you!”

He has to come clean, and he does, he tells you everything.

“Eww, that punch had BLOOD in it? That’s disgusting Mark why wouldn’t you tell me that? I drank that shit for MONTHS”

“I know, I know. But I wasn’t sure it was gonna work and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Not completely a lie. “…and also… I didn’t want you to say no.” Ah, poor Mark Grayson, you were such a weakness for him.

“Shit Mark. That’s… that’s kinda fucked up.”

“I know, but- this way you get what you always wanted! Come on, don’t blame me for that”

“..Mark.. I mean, I guess I get it? Like yes, I mean- I know we used to dream about this stuff when we were kids.. and I can’t lie. I am pretty stoked about getting to fucking fly, and I never have to worry about a paper cut again but.. “ you chortle out your disbelief, and it only grows-

“but shit Mark!. why wouldn’t you just tell me? I would have drank the blood juice if I knew what it was!! You let me plan for college and everything for months! And now I don’t even know if I want to… I mean, you let me take the SAT AND the ACT!! Knowing damn well I was gonna be a superhero!! I made plans, good plans! Plans I was excited about! This changes everything Mark.. ..why the FUCK wouldn’t you let me decide if I wanted to do this??”

“I know I know, I’m sorry. I really am. And you can still do all that stuff if you want! College and everything, I mean. I just.. I just really wanted to give you this. I REALLY wanted our childhood dreams to come true because.. I know it’s selfish but, MY dream couldn’t be complete without you by my side. You’re the other half of my future, y/n. You always have been.”

-And at that you’re quiet for a little bit, except for the pounding of your heartbeat in your head. Then-

“What are you saying, Mark?”

-He breathes deep, then-

“I’m saying I’ve had a crush on you since we were thirteen. I mean I was thirteen and you were fourteen. But since then. And if you don’t feel the same that’s fine and we can just be friends but I wanted to let you know because I’ve been waiting to tell you for years and I never-“

-But his ramblings are smothered by desperate lips. And after just a brief, stiff moment, he melts into your touch. It’s his first kiss, you know? He’s awkward but adoring. And you realize you’ve been a fool for not begging for this earlier. It was cliché, but you liked that. And if the stiffness in his pants were any indication, Mark did too.

“Wait..” you pull away, “how did you know you would get powers? What’s so special about your DNA?”

“Oh, uh- my dad is OmniMan”

“Mark, wHA-“!!!

—

-so you start the superhero gig. Neither of you were great at first, but after a little experience with some low-level-criminals, and with coaching from fucking OmniMan- you start to get the hang of things.

-at first Mark’s dad seemed very hesitant about you. Sometimes you got the feeling he didn’t want you there at all, but eventually he got used to your presence, and accepted that you were a permanent fixture on the side of his son. This didn’t mean he was thrilled to have you, but a quiet- and almost remorseful- acceptance draped itself over his countenance.

-especially when you start getting better than Mark

-remember how this dimension’s Mark is a huge nerd? With the intelligence to mutate genetic code with nothing but a kitchen knife and a Highschool lab set at the ripe age of 13? Well all that awesomeness has to balance out somehow, and unfortunately it means that when it comes to the physical strength of his powers, Mark is simply not as capable as other versions of himself.

-he’s still an incredibly powerful superhero, but he doesn’t stand a chance against most high-ranking villains. And he especially doesn’t stand a chance against his dad.

-now you know why his dad didn’t want you around. The destruction wrought through the earth is cataclysmic, but your focus is only on your poor bloody and bruised Mark Grayson.

-He’s weaker than he’s meant to be. Still one of the most durable people on the planet, but not enough for the rage of his father. He’s hurting, badly. And you don’t think he will survive much longer. You can’t sit idly by and watch, when Cecil told you what was happening, you flew as fast as you could to lunge at the ex-hero!

-you’re stronger than Mark but you’re still untrained. Omniman catches you and does not hesitate to break your leg.

-you cry out, but the monster simply throws your body to the concrete ground of the skyscraper rooftop. You try to get up, but the pain is so much.

“Y/N! Get out of here!!” Mark cries out to you in bloody rasps.

“See how weak humans are? Even with some viltrimite DNA, she’s still not even half of what we are. What we are supposed to be. You think you care about her? You think you can save her? She’ll be dead in a matter of years. We are going to live millennia without her, son. You think you need her? Think you can’t live without her? You’re going to have to.”

-And with that Mark’s father puts his boot on your head- intent on crushing your skull.

-You cry out in throbbing pain, if it weren’t for Mark’s DNA bolstering your cranium, your brains would already be jelly.

But seeing you in pain pushed Mark to a breaking point. Weakness be damned, he won’t see you hurt.

“I won’t live without her, dad.”

So, bloody, broken, dying, and fucking pissed, Mark throws himself at his father, sending them flying off at a thousand miles per hour.

-your vision is hazy, you fall unconscious for a few minutes, but force yourself back. But it’s already too late. Omniman has killed his son some million miles away. Your best friend. Your partner. Maybe the love of your life.

-you search for hours, and eventually find his body laid out at the top of Mt. Everest. The snow catches the red leaking out of him. He’s been fucking flattened on the white rocky cliff side. Some bits of him jut out- bones, intestines, and bits of torn clothing. You can’t even hold him in your arms. You can’t even cradle him in your fucking arms- that’s how brutally OmniMan mauled him.

-at first your only response is rage. To find OmniMan and make him hurt. To lash out all your dumb fucking superpowers on someone. Someone to blame. But the coward was gone. Apparently killing his son convinced him to leave Earth. Good fucking riddance. But that meant that now you were left with no one to share these unfathomable powers with. You attend Mark’s funeral. It’s closed casket.

-he was too weak. He cared so much. Maybe about you. Maybe you made him weak. Could you blame yourself for this ? You could try. And with no Mark around to stop you, you quickly fell into an unfeeling abyss.

—

-For a while you take up the mantle. Not of OmniMan- fuck that guy. No. You take up the mantle of Invincible. You don his suit, and with his powers you quickly become the world’s number one superhero, and the leader of the guardians.

-much to Cecil’s joy (if he has any left), you are completely dedicated to the job. You stop living with your family, you haven’t seen them in ages. They didn’t know about the powers, or Mark, or anything, and why should they? Just to see their perfect little girl become a killing machine? To see her dreams of college slip away? You left without saying goodbye. That part of you is gone. You’re Invincible now, and that’s all.

-it’s slowly killing you. You don’t engage with the other guardians outside of trainings and missions. You hardly ever take off the suit. You’re not mean, but you’re cold. You get stronger everyday. You don’t really care.

-people start seeing you as a role model, though. They don’t know how fucked up you are. Kids wear your suit on Halloween, and your insignia is on balloons, and somehow you become the poster child of being a good person

-and it pisses you the fuck off

-because you weren’t a good person. You let Mark die. You should have saved him. He gave you literal fucking powers and you still couldn’t save him. He was the good person, he was supposed to be the face behind this mask. You were only supposed to be reminding people of him by wearing this suit. But now.. people had forgotten all about him. He didn’t even exist anymore. And you had.. you had taken his place. You had taken what was rightfully his.

-and something snapped. Since the world forgot about him. Since you couldn’t do anything right by him.

-you decided to remind people who you were Not

-sulfur, smoke, sirens, and chicken. That’s what it smelled like, you thought. Everywhere you went. Sulfur, smoke, sirens, and chicken. And it was red. Everywhere. Red. Until it was gray, and then black.

-you still wore the suit. Even though you hated how it now maimed the legacy of your best friend. What “invincible” had become. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. It was what he left you- the suit- the powers. And you had decided to take it all. To its fullest advantage. It was like- keeping him close, you know?

-And finally, when the world gets boring, Angstrom Levy steps into frame.

“I understand you have an attachment to a late Mark Grayson?”

“Don’t say his name”

“Ah- of course. Can’t say I really understand your fondness for the boy, but I can respect it. I’m willing to offer you-“

-His throat pulses rhythmically in your hand. You’ve caught him by surprise in less than a heartbeat. Whoever this fucker is, you decide you don’t care to hear the rest of his story

-You hoist him into the air, but suddenly the ground beneath you gives way. You fall through the dirt, and land.. in the air? What the hell? Ah shit.. portals? Seriously? You gotta fight a portal guy? Whatever, you haven’t had anything better to do for months now.

“As I was saying, I have a proposition for you-“

“Not interested” and you lunge at him again, but this time the portal appears right in front of him, and shoots you back out some 16 feet away. Fucking hell.

“I ADMIRE YOUR STRENGTH AND SKILLS!! IN RETURN FOR DESTROYING A PLANET, I WOULD GRANT YOU-“ he’s yelling so you can hear him from the 16 feet. Doesn’t he know you have super hearing? This guy is a real idiot. Once you get your bearings, you fly towards him again.

A portal appears, but this time you know to feint left. You come from behind and pin his hands behind his back, hoping to subdue his portal-making abilities. You wrap your free arm around his neck in a chokehold.

“I said I wasn’t interested” you languish in his ear. Your voice is sweet sweet poison.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely. Very strong.” But you’re bored again now. And as you crush his windpipe-

“Mark Grayson!!” He rasps out- “you’ll have Mark Grayson again!!”

-You let go, you ask questions, you demand proof, he complies, and eventually a bargain is struck.

-You’ll destroy another Earth, alongside other variants (you learn you are one of many variants), and then for your troubles you will get to take home one of the many, many, alive Mark Graysons. Any of your choosing.

“Do we ever get to be partners? Superhero partners? In any universe?”

“Well I’m not sure about heroes..”

“Do we get to be partners? In.. whatever the hell we do? Does he really survive his dad in so many universes?”

“He does.” Unfortunately- Langstrum thinks.

“Then if he’s alive in that alternate dimension, isn’t he happy there? Don’t we get to be happy together?”

“Oh y/n.. you really don’t understand, do you?”

“What”

“In all those other dimensions.. you’re the one who dies.”

..oh.

-You guess that makes sense.

How unfortunate you had to live in this one.

“So.. he will be happy to see me?”

“I’m absolutely certain.”

————

Today is the day. The day you go through all the horrors again, and then you’ll get to see your boy. It’s like, going back in time, you think. In order to get back to those good beginnings, you’ll have to rewind through the last few years of horrific devastation. A price to pay.

A portal appears before you, and with only a moment of hesitation, you step through.

The sun is bright, brighter than it’s been in a long time. The air is warm, and the breeze carries the sounds of life. You.. missed this, you guess. It was nice. Life could be like this again. It was going to be.

Phasing through their own portals, your heart hitches just a little as the other variants appear. In a circle above Mark’s old house, you study their faces. And in turn, notice them noticing you.

“Woahhh who brought the girl?” A variant with no mask laughs.

“Woah, im a chick in another universe? Shit, why couldn’t I have been born a chick in my own universe? Then I could touch my tits whenever I wanted.” A mohawked version roared. Well you knew who were weren’t taking home.

“Focus on the mission. We’ve all been given locations to destroy, there’s no need to delay with introductions” a white-clad figure spoke with certainty. You recognized the clothes as Viltrimite uniform. Disgusting, you thought. But not as disgusting as-

“I concur. Those who survive will have earned their introductions. We are wasting time” a variant in a suit very reminiscent of Omniman’s speaks.

“I can’t imagine a universe in which I would ever wear that emblem” you couldn’t help yourself, but how could a Mark Grayson allow himself to wear that Omni shit? How different had their lives been?

OmniMark seems taken aback, but only for a moment.

“You have no idea what brought me to this moment here today.” You felt his power burning into you, but you didn’t care, you could match it- hell, you’d been waiting to match it for years.

“You know what brought me here today? The need to put something in its place. You want that to be you?” You rise to meet him, you can feel the atoms vibrating around you with power- damn you wanna punch this fucker.

“Well well, kitty’s got claws~” Mohawk pipes up.

“Hey sweetheart! you could put me in my place~” No-Goggles rises to Mohawk’s game. Fucking imbeciles.

“Enough. The mission is clear, we’ve all agreed to its terms. You don’t want to look at each other? Fine. Go destroy opposite corners of the world, but first go.” The true viltrimite reprimands you both like children. But you’re too busy maintaining the fire between your eyes and the Omni-variant.

You can feel the gazes of all the variants. Your teammates in destroying the world. A part of you hates each and every one. Knowing that they’re all technically Mark, but all capable of so much more cruelty than yours ever was.

but a part of you also languishes in it. You’ve been missing Mark so much for so long, and now all of a sudden here you were- surrounded by him! So many different versions. You almost want to fling yourself into their arms, and promise your love. Forever and ever. To each one. Well, except one.

“I have no interest in delaying our mission any further by entertaining this petty display of anger. Either you uphold your end of the bargain or you don’t. Your decision will not influence me.” The arrogant, self-proud Omni-prick belittles you.

-‘your decision will not influence me’ my ass

-But just as you wind up to punch this fucker’s teeth out, your arm is stopped by a Mark with a mask like fabric covering his face-

“Not yet.”

A fully masked invincible put his hand on the shoulder of the Omni-variant, “we all have a reason for being here. We can’t lose this opportunity.”

he’s right. You shouldn’t waste your breath on this lesser Mark. You need to focus on why you’re really here.

The black and yellow variant adds, “we can kill each other later” with a smile that was too pleasant to be joking.

The final variant to engage wears two viltrimite emblems on either side of his shoulders. He breaks the tension with an air of refinement, unquestioned power, and a tad bit of condescension- “time to go, then. Meet back here when you’ve done as told.”

So they start off, ready to bleed all corners of the world. But you are reluctant to break eye contact with the Omni-scum. There is too much fire, and the rage of the past years fuels your contempt. Refuses to let you back down. But just as the fully masked variant pulls at the shoulder of Omni-dick and turns him away from you, the Mark with a mask of fabric pulls at your arm and- and it feels like Mark.

It really feels like Mark.

And you let him turn you from the rage. From the fire that had been burning inside you since he died.

The wind catches the fabric on his face. It toys with your imagination- billowing in ways which catch the variant’s features before obscuring them again. The dancing obfuscation allows you to pretend that this really is your Mark. His face is the one you’ve memorized.

You can’t see behind his goggles, but you can imagine his eyes recognizing you. The way the variant doesn’t move- you can tell he really is studying you. Letting you stare. Staring back. It’s not even longing, it’s.. understanding. That you had both lost your counterparts. That you were Invincible, simultaneously. And your heart swells at the recognition- finally not being so goddamn alone.

But then he flies off.

And you are realize you are alone in the sky.

You’re meant to be destroying Melbourne, Australia. But there’s enough Invincibles to get the job done. You’ve assigned yourself a different mission: pick a Mark Grayson to keep.

In order to do that, you need to study your options. This decision will last forever, you know? Don’t want to be too hasty.

Who should you follow?

You didn’t pay attention who went which direction, though you remember Angstrom announcing all the locations. Whoops, maybe you’re a little rusty. No matter. You decide to start by taking a little devastation down memory lane.

——

-The prison.

-What was the name of this prison again? It had been so long since it had been operational. You could still recall which cells belonged to which prisoners- and the way you won each of their battles- and- oh dammit not him.

-Mohawk was making quick work of the prison. You considered simply skipping him for the next destination, but alas, he had spotted you-

“Hey hey hey!! Guess you couldn’t stay away from the sexiest variant, could ya?”

“You’re about to be flattened” you reply coolly.

-and he was. A giant rhinoceros guy with a bigger-than-a-rhinoceros-hammer was charging at him. And he was too distracted to notice, just standing on the ground like a fucking idiot. Your Mark was always smarter about strategy than this. Why lose high-ground advantage when you can literally fly?

But just as the hammer fell down upon the imbecile, Mohawk shot out a hand to stop the thing- and it did. Stop, I mean. He stopped it with one fucking hand, while posing at you. The way a frat guy poses against a door. With the arm up? And the smarmy smile? Shit.. this guy was an asshole, but he was also a lot stronger than your Mark. Mental Note: don’t underestimate this guy.

“Enjoying the show?” His grin was so big it could reach Texas. He didn’t stop-

“I don’t get stage fright, go ahead and watch.” He teased, bulging out some muscles playfully. You couldn’t tell if he was honestly flirting or if he was making fun of you.

-The rhino raised his hammer again, preparing to squash the Mohawk properly this time. But this did not deter the asshole-

“Although if you helped out, we could ditch this place and get to know each other a little better~”

-you were unconsciously drifting closer and closer to the variant. He couldn’t see the rising blush under your mask, but you suspected that somehow he knew. Or, he was such a confident little prick that it didn’t matter. Which you didn’t doubt. You couldn’t help it, this Mark was arrogant, but he could certainly put his money where his mouth is.

“Actually, I am here to know you better” You reply. And for just a second you see his eyes light up with some almost psychotic excitement, before the hammer falls again.

-this time, he wasn’t prepared to stop it with his hand, but he maintains it with his shoulder swiftly. You study the dirt beneath his feet- the blow does not move him.

“Really? You know I’ve always had a kink for fucking a clone. Wanted to feel how good at sex I was from the other perspective!”

“I’m not a clon-“

-but he’s too busy punching the hammer 20 feet in the air, flying up to grab it by its handle, and slamming it down on the head of its previous owner. Blood, bones, and brain matter squelch out. A giant golden horn falls dejectedly beside it.

“Come on, don’t let me have all the fun. Let’s fuck up some more prisoners, and then we’ll fuck each other.”

-there is something you like about this invincible. He is.. so different from your Mark. But he’s the kind of bad-boy that appeals to your fucked-up side. He’s fun, and fucking powerful. Maybe this is what you need. Maybe you can’t replace the kind-hearted nerd you lost years ago, but you can gain a sexy arrogant rebel prick that resembles him.

Or maybe, you could find something better.

“I can’t stay, I’ve got a mission to finish.”

“Aww what? Can’t play hooky for a little longer?”

“Survive. maybe I’ll see you again.”

And you were off to the next location.

——

The Colorado Camp Grounds.

When you were kids, you would go to camp with Mark in Colorado every summer. It was a huge trek to get there, but your mom was adamant that you had to go to this camp because it was tradition because this was the camp she went to when she was a kid. And she always let you bring Mark because you didn’t have any siblings, and she thought it would help you ‘be normal.’

It did not.

William always threw a fit cuz we wasn’t invited. You had to explain to him every year that it was your mom’s fault cuz she only let you bring one friend.

How simple things had been.

When you got there, you realized it was empty- of course- it wasn’t summer. But as you wandered around, you could still see the crowds of children. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of the forest and tennis shoes on dirt. Also, the wind suddenly whizzing behind you-

“I came here too, when I was a kid.”

You turn around to find the bumblebee-variant. Although with the power and violence radiating off him, he seemed more like a hornet now. Something about his presence rattled you. A Sinister gleam threatening his eyes. You rise to him, a few feet off the ground,

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to destroy the place.” He tilts his head, wondering how you’ll respond. It’s a challenge to defy him- to admit you’re too weak to let go of these memories.

“Sure. But we came to destroy everywhere. Why here?”

He smiles at you, one of those smiles that makes it clear he thinks you’re stupid.

“Why not here? It’s our mission to destroy everything, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but-“

“Honestly I was really hoping for some campers so I could-“

“Answer the question”

“Are you gonna stand in my way?”

At this you bristle. You’re not trying to battle anybody, you’re trying to get to know them- but you can’t afford to be caught off guard. You have to be ready for a fight. As you saw with Mohawk, these guys are a lot tougher than you expected.

“No.”

“That’s too bad, I almost thought you had some conviction.”

Okay, fuck this guy.

“I’ve already destroyed this place once.” You say flatly. It’s true. You did. And you did it technically for the man in front of you.

And he looks at you, and reaches toward your face. You don’t know why, but you let him. He caresses your cheek so delicately, until suddenly-

your neck is craned forward as he painfully cups your jaw- squishing your cheeks carelessly cruel with his fingers. He brings your face right up to his, centimeters away- and whispers,

“So did I.”

Kinda hot, kinda scary. But Fuck this, you were powerful too.

So you mirrored him. To remind him you were invincible too. You had earned that fucking title. And you were just as fucked up as him.

As you palmed his jaw with your hand, and pinched his cheeks with your thumb and fingers so tight you almost broke skin- you realized you couldn’t crane his neck forward without slamming his face into yours.

But you were never a quitter.

So, locked in a painful face-embrace, you yanked him into a kiss. Because fuck this guy, that’s why. And because you had travelled through dimensions to kiss Mark Grayson again, so you were gonna fucking do that.

Even if it was a fucked up version.

And just as his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head, and the moment almost turns sweet- he bites your fucking lip. copper flavor. Motherfucker.

So you catch his lip in your teeth, and then push him away. Hard. Really hard. Shoved him careening into a big-ass tree a few feet away. The one with the tire swing. Fucking Ripped the skin from his lip.

Because you could be cruel, too. And for some reason you really wanted to prove that to this Mark. So for good measure-

“I got my first kiss here, you know” You breathe it out, seductively. “When I was in 4th grade. We all played Spin the Bottle. Cliché huh?”

Mark had taken a moment to recover from the slam, probably because of the kiss. But now that he was looking at you again- your blood mingling with his as it dribbled down his chin- you were starting to lose confidence. His eyes trained on you-

“You taste like her.”

Um, ew. Did this guy eat people? From his unnerving presence you wouldn’t put it past him. But you had something to prove,

“When the bottle landed on me, I saw it was Toby Fichte who had spun it.”

“I remember this.”

“Lucky me, Toby was the cutest boy at camp.”

“You’re not-“

“He was a much better kisser than you.”

“You’re not me.”

“I’m better than you.”

A dangerous smile grew on his bloody teeth “Careful.”

You should be careful. You were playing with fire. You realized you shouldn’t be giving hints that you weren’t Mark Grayson. You need a distraction,

“You destroyed this place in your dimension?”

He looks at you, an emotion you can’t place hiding in the recesses of his face. “I did.”

“What did you start with?”

“Cabin 4.”

You smiled. “Why?”

He smiled back, eyes knowing- and never leaving yours- “Because that’s where she kissed him.”

You paused, as his eyes bore into yours. Breath heaving- and you knew it wasn’t from the shove. He was crazed, for something. For you? He’s gotten up now and slowly floats toward you. The way a big cat stalks up to its prey. You need to act fast,

“Save it for last, this time.”

One last threatening glint in his eye, and he zipped off to destroy the campgrounds, as hastily as he could, so he could take his time with Cabin 4. The sounds of wood crunching and splintering resounded all around you. Cabins, trees, hammocks. Good. You couldn’t stand the memories.

You zipped off too, to continue your mission.

——

Guardians HQ

You never were invited into Guardians HQ before Omni-man decimated the world. Still in training, you didn’t rank high enough to be on the team.

But after he destroyed the planet- as well as the guardians- you practically lived there.

Once you became Cecil’s favorite hero, you couldn’t stop imaging how Mark would’ve looked in that hall- living his dream, surrounded by his teammates- his birthright.

So looking at it now, it was almost a vision come true.

Invincible was standing proudly in the middle of the hall, surrounded by the guardians. Although of course it was- bloodier than you envisioned it.

No-goggles stood proudly covered in blood, while the guardians around him lay dead- torn around the room.

“Aww, I really shouldn’t have killed you all so fast. I was looking forward to torturing you.”

But your focus was on Dark Wing- always sneaking around the edges, that one.

“You haven’t killed all of us yet” Dark Wing seethes, and you realize his plan as he lunges for the unsuspecting variant.

His cape pulls taut as you grab the back of it, and as it digs into his neck from the tension, you throw him backwards into the wall he just jumped from- killing him instantly.

“Heyyyy” No-Goggles whines, “He was mine to finish off.”

“He would have been the death of you. You’re welcome.” Your tone is flat but accusing. You try to keep it even but realize your emotion at almost seeing another Mark Grayson killed.

“You don’t think I could have ended that guy? I was just toying with him.”

“I know that. But so did he.”

No-goggles gives you a questioning look, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow- just like your Mark used to do when thinking. You loved seeing his eyes. So expressive. Although there was also a glimmer of cruelty, of darkness which-

“You’re saying he would have trapped me in his- ah, dark dimension, or whatever.”

What an idiot.

A handsome idiot.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I would have found a way out of there.” He crosses his arms with a smug look on his face. Were all the variants this arrogant? You guess anyone who agrees to destroy the earth twice probably has some issues you’ll have to look past.

“Were you planning on killing Dark Wing?” You ask.

“Obvvvvvviosuly.” He says, drawling for effect. He was having fun with this.

“Then you would have stranded yourself as soon as you killed him.”

He breathed in for some retort, but he was left speechless. You continued-

“You should be more careful about these kinds of inter-dimensional powers. You might be strong, but that’s useless if left without anything to punch.”

You advise him. The way you used to when you were still in-training with your Mark.

“Hmm.. noted.” And something shifted- although you weren’t sure what. But he didn’t seem to notice-

He smiled. “Got anymore tips? You can use me as a practice dummy.”

Um what.

“How fitting- you being a dummy.” You retorted, trying to revert the conversation less.. masochistic.

“Aww come on. These guys didn’t put up nearly enough of a fight. I didn’t come all the way to another dimension for a few scratches. I’ll let you get in 5 hits for free.”

“Are you.. challenging me to fight?” You honestly weren’t sure.

“We can fight if you want.”

What the hell was up with this guy?

“Uh- no. That’s not what I’m proposing-“

“Aww you’re so adorable. But you’re kind of a wimp.”

Rage, again. Bubbling up inside of you- “You better fucking-“

“Haha woah! You’re really easy to rile up!”

“You- ugh, you’re just looking for a fight, huh?”

“I’d take one, sure. Especially against someone so strategic, makes it more like a game, ya know?”

“Because you- you get some perverted pleasure from pain.”

“You’d like it too” a wicked grin finds its way on his otherwise cavalier expression, “I’m sure you would- no version of me wouldn’t.”

Hah! What a laugh. You can’t help but think of your Mark asking for some kinky pain-shit. HAH! This idiot- a giggle escapes you as you tease,

“Listen, pervert!” A big grin clapped on your face, “MY Mark was way too sweet to have ever asked me for-“

“Your Mark?”

Ah shit. You’re saying too much again.

“Oh, you’re not-“

“Im Invincible. End of story.”

“Hmm~” something darker lights up his eyes as he rakes them up and down your body. But the smile never leaves his face, “prettiest Invincible I ever saw- and you should know I think pretty highly of myself.”

What a little shit.

“You know who you kind of remind me of?” He sing-songs with putrid delight. “My old girlfriend named y/-“

He hurls through the air as you deck him square in the nose. When he CRACKS with the wall on the opposite side, red starts to dribble from his nose.

But he pops back up like a fuckin daisy-

“Again! Again! Shit y/n, you were never like this before!”

“Shut up!” You seethe, and fly at him to crack your knuckles on his cheek- right where the jaw meets the ear. CRACK!

You don’t know why him knowing who you are affects you the way it does. Maybe it’s because that version of you is dead. Or maybe you’re just not really ready to come to terms with the reality of your life. Your name- it makes it all too real. You’re not ready. Not yet.

From a few feet away, crawling out of a the newly-formed crevice on the wall to your left-

“Haheh- what a- what a woman.” He’s stumbling towards you, ready for more. “What’s that, 2? I promised 10 free hits? Shit baby.. keep em coming.”

“5. You promised 5 free hits.”

“I’ll give you 5 more” so much blood in his teeth.

“I’d kill you before we made it to 10.”

“Promise you’ll finish ‘em all even after I’m dead? All 10? Pretty please?” Lovesick and deranged, he’s still wobbling towards you.

“You- you want me to kill you?” Incredulous and a bit alarmed; you can’t help but take a step back. His eyes flick to your retreated foot-

Wrong move.

“Don’t fucking pretend you don’t want this. I’m sure- I’m sure this is what you came for? Right y/n darling? You came to this shitty planet looking for me. Well I’m here. And im ready to take whatever you can give. All you can give. And I promise to cherish it. Like I should have cherished it before you.. before you left.”

Died. Before you died. Shit, you were not prepared for this. You need time. You need to get out of here- but this invincible- this Mark won’t let you leave easily.

You weren’t prepared for Mark to want you more than you wanted him. Although you guess it made sense. Your Mark had been pretty.. doting with you as well. You hadn’t considered what he might have become if you had been the one to die instead.

But No-Goggles leaves you no time to think- he lunges at you! Wrapping you in a bear hug which pins your arms to your sides. He lets the momentum throw you both into the wall behind you, and your legs part to accompany his body.

His lips find yours as you struggle against the compromising position. But as you struggle, you notice the friction turning him on. As you kick, jab, and bite him- well, the same result.

Through breaths, he sings in your ear- a cruel taunt-

“I know who you are~”

Your blood runs cold. You shouldn’t have told him. You should have been more careful. He choruses-

“And I’m never letting you escape again~”

And you almost wanted him to make good on his promise. To be his again. Forever.

But you had to get out. You needed time to think and he was refusing you that. So, you decided to give him what he wanted.

You grind on him a little to distract him (and because it was delicious). As he moaned, you wriggled your arm out of his grip, winded up your elbow, and smacked him off your face. Hard.

He went down unconscious. You couldn’t help but gingerly check for a pulse- He was alive. And would be awake again soon. That means you only have a few hours before he would be after you again. You wanted time, but it didn’t seem you were going to get any.

You need to move on to the next target.

——

You needed to get away from these memories for a while. It was making you irrational. You had to remind yourself that none of these guys were your Mark.

But you couldn’t help it. You missed him so much. And they all were Mark. Even if not quite the right one.

But who cares? Maybe you weren’t the same person that loved that dorky nerd. Maybe you had grown into something darker.. shit, what if that dorky Mark wouldn’t even recognize you now? Would he hate you? He was so good and you’d done such awful things..

Shit. Now was not the time to have a mental break. You’d kept strong for all these years- you could NOT have a crisis in the middle of this. Not here. This was your chance at being happy again.

You needed space.

So you started flying up.

Like a rocket. Not stopping when you hit the stratosphere. Burning up a little but not caring.

Until you’re in the stars. And it’s quiet. And it’s calm.

And it’s beautiful.

Sometimes you thought about leaving Earth. If Angstrom hadn’t arrived, you might have. You might have gotten bored with the planet. Left the few survivors to rebuild or die. Maybe allowed yourself to be happy again on some distant planet. The way Omni-man did when he came to your planet. Just, reinvented himself- fucking lied to everyone- and had a good time. Until he didn’t.

Man fuck that guy.

There are grunting noises around you. In space. Is there no peace anywhere?

Turning around, you gotta scan every angle before you spot some figures in the distance.

If you were miles above Washington, then they were miles above Oregon. What a wonder super-vision and a clear horizon will do, huh?

You really couldn’t make out who it was. But considering the circumstances, it was probably a variant, and you should probably go talk to them. For the mission. Your mission.

Remember what you’re doing here.

You try to perk yourself up. Maybe this Mark will be the one. The perfect fit. Your forever fix.

But as you speed towards them, you start to make out the red and white blur. You’ve got to be fucking shitting me right now.

He’s fighting some- space crab thing. His suit is torn, and his breath is panting, so apparently it’s pretty strong. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward like his dear old dad.

You could leave him for dead, but you decide there is a more enjoyable option.

You shoot yourself at Space Crab, flinging yourself through frictionless space as you gain more and more momentum. Pushing your knuckles out in front of you like fucking Superman, you collide with the chest of the crab-in-space at a supersonic pace.

Your body slices through the incredibly-thick shell of the crab, but at the expense of your knuckles. Fuck you were NOT expecting the fucking space crab to be so fucking durable.

Your knuckles were bleeding. And at least 4 fingers had been disjointed by the collision. It hurt like hell, but you’d heal within a few minutes. What you were really concerned about was the variant behind you seeing your injury.

You did not want to be seen as weak. Not to anyone, but especially not to him. So you continue flying. You had slowed considerably after going through the crab, but you didn’t completely stop! So you just pick the pace back up and zip the fuck out of there, at the speed of light.

Problem solved.

Now you’re somewhere over the Antarctic. Fine, no one should be here. You can take a fucking breather alone and no one can-

“You’re ignoring your mission.” Came a voice from behind you.

Fuckkkkkkk. Whipping your head around, it’s none other than Omni-Mark.

“You followed me?” You accuse him.

“You couldn’t tell? You should be more aware than that.”

This fucking-

“Must have been the vacuum of space” You retort.

You stop flying and turn towards him, hoping to catch him off guard, but he’s relentless-

“You’re ignoring your mission.”

“I have my own mission.”

At this he raises a brow, “with Angstrom?”

You remember to hide your knuckles behind your back. You sneer back- “No. not with Angstrom.”

At this he crosses his arms. If he could get more stiff; you’re sure he would. But alas, he can’t. He’s already. Too. Stiff. Poor guy. Must be the stick up his ass.

“I cannot allow you to disregard your mission.” He dictates, looking down at you.

“Didn’t I just help you? Can’t you just say ‘thanks for saving my ass against a giant space crab’ and let me go? It’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do?” He challenges.

“Yes.” Fuck. youuu.

“My OmniMan emblem- that’s the source of this insolence?” He chides like a father to a child- and that ticks you off sooo much. But before you can act on it-

“Fine. If you must know, I killed my father because I knew I could do the job better than him. I realized he was being insincere in his position as a guardian, and so I trained to take up his mantle. When he instructed me to help him prepare Earth for the empire, I refused. And instead I killed him. But that didn’t stop the empire from coming.

“There was 20 of them, not all of them as strong as me, but strong enough to overpower me. I fought against them for a long time, but eventually they found my weaknesses. I submitted to their rule to save what I could of Earth. I knew Earth would be better off if I was its designated Viltrimite ruler. I could be as merciful as they’d let me.

“They promised to leave me as ruler, so long as I completed their test. They brought my mother and my wife- my weaknesses. They told me to kill one, but I refused to pick. They tossed a coin. I was instructed to kill her. To kill my wife. To prove my allegiance. To prove my strength. She begged me to do it, for the good of humanity. She smiled at me as I crushed her windpipe.”

you couldn’t help but feel that his wife- his weakness- was you. Your hand flew to your mouth to cover a gasp.

“Your knuckle has been injured.”

“Yes.” Was all you could say, but your eyes searched his for more- for understanding.

“I’m only telling you this because I have struck a deal with Angstrom. When we complete our mission, he will give me my wife back. If you do not fulfill your end of the bargain, my contract could be null. So you understand-“

He got right in your face. Backing up would show cowardice so you remain where you are- centimeters from him. He hooks his finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to his. He commands-

“You will complete your mission, now.”

Chills ran up your body. But you couldn’t show your reaction to him. Wouldn’t.

“He’s lying, you know.” You challenge. And you know this to be true- since his wife is you. And you certainly didn’t agree to go with this guy. He was probably your least-likely pick. Or at least he was. Maybe he was growing on you. Or maybe you were never this guy’s wife to begin with.

“Maybe.” He replies. “But I’ve taken on the risk.”

“Your wife- what was her name?”

He hesitates- the first crack in his cold demeanor. He really wasn’t lying about his devotion.

“Y/n.” He breathes. And you can tell it’s difficult for him. But it’s difficult for you too. It’s been so long since you’ve heard the name from his lips with such- sincerity. Tenderness.

Maybe you had judged too harshly at first. Maybe this could be your Mark.

“my hands still hurt form when I punched that crab for you.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you going to thank me for my help?”

He backs away, leaving you open to the cold of space again. It’s nothing you can’t handle, but you had been enjoying the warmth.

“I had the situation under control. I knew the Crab’s hard exterior was the fool’s route to victory. You wasted your energy and weakened your best weapons in the process.”

Okay damn. Maybe not.

“Go to Melbourne. Or there will be consequences.”

And he was gone. And you were left in the emptiness of space.

—-

But you didn’t go to Melbourne.

Instead, you went to finish another job you had delayed: destroying the Guardians in their entirety.

The Teen Team HQ

Oh, you remembered Teen Teem. For those short months while you and Mark trained, you would show up at battles you saw on the news- and accidentally screw over those teenage heroes.

Mark was certain that by demonstrating your guys’ skills in front of the team, that they would certainly ask you to join. This didn’t happen though. You both were too inexperienced to do anything other than make things more difficult for the budding heroes.

But this didn’t stop Mark! He was certain getting on the team was the first stepping stone to achieving your dreams of becoming the world’s Number 1 Crime Fighting Duo.

You were never invited to the facility, but you snuck in once. Mark convinced you to follow Dupli-Kate after a battle at Hillview Park. She led you right to the top-secret base.

“Bet you I’ll make it in first!” He had whispered.

“You’re on, Grayson.” You challenged.

“Invincible!” He chided, “Call me [titlecard]!”

Of course, neither of you got in. As soon as you two tried to surpass the threshold, alarms blared, and Cecil appeared to give you a very stern talking to.

You giggle at the memory. You can’t help but feel a little giddy that those happy times were possible again- soon.

And, of course; you’re excited to see the inside of the facility this time.

But, it seemed Mark really had beat you to it.

“You’re all weaker than I expected. I was hoping for a challenge.” A variant with prominent Goggles hovered in the middle of the room.

“You- little asshole.” Hey! You recognized Rex-Splode! He was the explosions guy. Aww, he used to be one of your role models. Until you killed him, of course.

“You think you can sacrifice yourself to save your friends? You realize after I kill you, I’m just going to find them too.” Goggles taunts him.

You realize the decimated room was rather lacking in teens. So he had sent the rest of his team away, huh? How noble.

“Well maybe I just wanted it to be you and me, asshole.” Rex struggles to continue standing.

“Aww how nice. Too bad she’s here then-“ and Goggle points right at you, where you were watching from outside the broken doorway. Your stomach drops- not having expected the attention. But you recover and step through the threshold, standing at full potential.

“Ah damnit. I’ve got to fight two of you assholes?”

He uses that word a lot, you muse.

“No.” You state, “I’m only here to watch.”

“Shouldn’t you be completing your own mission?” Goggles was rather curt with you. If he had any connection with y/n, he certainly didn’t recognize her as you. Good.

“I’m here to watch.” You state again, more biting this time.

“Ah shit, is this some kind of fucked-up clone relationship thing? Whaddaya call that? Self -love?” Rex heaves out his joke, and winces at the pain it causes in his lungs.

“I don’t need a babysitter. Finish your fucking mission or we’re gonna have a problem.” Goggles seethes at you. This prick.

“Hmm, maybe more like self-hate.” Rex adds.

“No.” You repeat. You don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. But dammit today has not been easy and you are not the kind of person to be bossed around. At all. “I’m here to watch.”

“I’m not going to say it again. Fuck off to Australia!” The variant roars at you.

“Make me.”

And as soon as you say it, you’re in the air, being bulldozed backwards through walls and then pushed through night sky. The not-so-secret facility grows smaller in the distance. The variant has pinned your arms to your sides, and is pushing you backwards towards- what you can only assume is - Australia.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yell. You have to- you’re going so fast that the wind whizzing in your ears blocks out sound even for the super-of-hearing.

“I’m making sure you fulfill your end of the bargain.” He roars back.

“Why do you give so much of a fuck if I’m following the mission?”

He just glares at you in response. Your inner ear hurts from the disorientation. Shit, this guy was fast.

But you were strong. So somewhere over the Pacific, you wind up your knees to your chest, and kick him hard. As you break free from his hold, you hover in front of him.

He goes to lunge at you again, but you put your hands up in defense-

“Alright! I’ll go to Australia. Just tell me one thing-“

“You swear?”

“I swear” You try to to placate him.

He crosses his arms, and pouts a little. “What?”

“What was your deal? With Angstrom?”

He narrows his eyes at you, suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”

“That’s why you want me to go to Australia so bad, right? Because if I don’t, I could nullify the deal, or whatever.” You watch him closely, looking for any confirmation, And you won’t get what you want?”

A clenching of his fingertips confirmed that you were right- you recognized it as one of Mark’s tells.

He deflects, “Why are you asking this?”

“What’s in it for you? What do you get in the bargain?” You demanded. A sneaking suspicion writhed itself in your gut, which you were afraid to confirm. But you had to.

He sighs-

“did you have a y/n in your universe?”

Shit.

He continues, “well I did in mine. And I want her back. Happy?”

Happy? Maybe? Overjoyed? Terrified? And royally pissed at Angstrom?

“I’ll be happy when this is over.” Is all you manage to say. Then, quieter, “I’ll complete my mission now.”

He pauses, looking at you strangely, like he’s working out a puzzle.

But you don’t give him time to solve it. “I’m going now.” And as you start to fly away- “oh! And Mark?”

You look back at him, and his breath hitches. You smile a little- that signature little smile of yours~

“Thanks for telling me.”

And with that you zoom off.

—

Melbourne is in ruins.

Fires rage, rubble is all that remains of any form of civilization, and even the screams have already begun dying out.

Someone has completed your mission for you.

“Where have you been?”

You turn in the air to see the monochrome figure of the Viltrimite variant hovering a few feet away from you- you really needed to stop letting these guys sneak up on you. Especially these Viltrimite types.

“You didn’t need to do this.” You keep your tone even- “I had it under control, and even if I hadn’t I would not have accepted your help” You spat.

You didn’t like Viltrimites. You hadn’t had much experience with them; the only real Viltrimites you had ever interacted with were OmniMan and Anissa. After the coward OmniMan killed the love of your life, you never saw him again. When Anissa came, she was too late to conquer the planet; you had already destroyed it.

So to see this variant of your beloved Mark sporting the insignia which was responsible for his death? Absolutely Abhorrent.

The entire mindset of the Viltrimites is fucked up. It’s pretty cultish if you think about it. I mean what kind of a dumbass motherfucker do you have to be to buy into-

“I know who you are.”

Shit!

How the fuck does he know? Is he talking about what you think he’s talking about? You hadn’t even talked to the guy how could he have- what do you do? Why’s he staring at you like that?

“What?” Is all you manage to choke out.

“I know who you are. You’re my y/n.”

My y/n?

Shit, how many of these variants did Angstrom promise you to?? It couldn’t be.. all of them; could it?

“I did this for you.” He speaks.

And he gestures around himself, slowly, gracefully. His eyes never leaving yours.

You look around. The devastation. The mission.

“Why?” You ask.

“I was waiting for you. You should have been here sooner, but were obviously delayed. I decided the completion of your mission would be the optimal use of my time. Consider it a.. gesture of my unwavering affection.”

You swallow. Hard. Something about the hungry look in his eye unnerves you. Like his composure is all a facade he is barely restraining. But there is also something.. pleading in his gaze.

“Your.. affection?” You question, dumbly- you know the answer. You fear it nonetheless.

“For you.”

Fuck. You did not want the Viltrimite version of your dead boyfriend to be your forever beaux. But the utter longing in his eyes assure you he won’t be easy to get rid of- not by a long shot.

Still, you try-

“I’m not interested. I have no fondness for Viltrimites” you sneer at him. You try to.

“You enjoy the splendors of our powers but lack the conviction of our culture…” he pauses for a moment, in thought. Then, “You’re a hypocrite. But it’s a malady I’m prepared to attend to.” He is all caressing authority and cold devotion.

“Attend to it somewhere else- I’m not fucking interested” you sneer at him.

“You will be happy with me.” He is inching closer to you, arms extended.

“I won’t.” You defy, slowly backing up.

“You will! I know you will.”

“I won’t!” You cry out, but he has been smart. Hovering slightly above you has been backing you up closer and closer to the ground. Damn, if your Mark could see you now- he’d certainly critique you for losing your high-ground advantage.

“But you will. I know you will.” You’re getting very close to the ground now.

“You can’t know that!” You throw back at him.

“I do. Because she was happy too!”

Shit. His version of you. Was she happy with him? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t be.

“I’m not her!” Your voice is more pleading than you intended- you shouldn’t be allowing him to dominate the space between you, but you couldn’t help it. The day had been so taxing on your emotions.

“You are her. Your voice is hers, your breath is hers, your eyes are hers, your face-” And he’s reaching for your mask.

you try to back away out of his range- but you hit ground where you wish there was escape. His fingers slip under the fabric, and before you know it, you are bare-faced for the world.

The wind is cool on your fresh skin; the fires are warm.

“Your face is hers” he confirms, breathlessly. Lovingly. Relieved.

You look up at him. You can see his eyes, his lips, his nose, his cheeks. You can see Mark Grayson.

“I haven’t taken my mask off in years” you confess.

He smiles, still gripping your mask in one hand.

“You won’t have to put it on ever again” he coos.

“That sounds.. nice” tears form in your eyes, “but also- awful.”

“Aww, darling~” and he comes to sit next to you in the sand; he cradles your head with two strong arms, and babies you the way someone might console a lost kitten, “you’re not going to be anyone else now except for y/n. My y/n.”

“No- no you don’t understand,” but your protestations are weak, “I’m not her anymore. I’m- I’m Invincible now. It’s what I have to do for- for you. I mean, not you, but for Mark. My Mark-“

He coos at you as you say those words- ‘My Mark.’

Oh, your Mark. The ultimate betrayal. Here you were in the arms of a Viltrimite version of him, taking off the suit which linked you to him, and abusing the powers you have thanks to him.

And it makes you want to cry.

You do a little. Allow yourself this small concession after being strong for so long. And Mark is there to hold you together. Oh God, he’s here.

Except he’s not very comforting.

He’s certainly trying, but he’s not very good at it.

He’s stiff. He’s eager- too eager. His embrace is too forged. It’s cage-like and cold. It presses in too hard, and in the wrong places.

You rub your eyes. You need to get a hold of yourself- you try to take back control of the conversation-

“How did you know it was me?”

“It was obvious as soon as I saw you” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, but it falls again anyway. He continues, “Viltrimites are able to identify one another from distant ranges by memorizing the heartbeat pattern of the individual. Yours is.. the same- exactly the same as it was before.”

Shit. This guy was hardcore.

“How did she die?”

He hesitates. Doesn’t move at all. He stares at you, though. Never blinking. Finally,

“Old age.”

Old age? How the hell could she have died of old age? Unless-

“How- how could she have- how old are you?” You breathe out as the realization hits you.

He stands. He looks down on you, his body casting a shadow on your form- sheilding you from the firelight of a dying city.

“132.”

Oh hell no.

There was no way you were spending the rest of your life with this old ass man. 132?? He had plenty of time to enjoy you- other you. You did not need this shit-

“She was very happy on Viltrum” he reasons with you as your legs find strength to stand up. He continues-

“She lived a long and prosperous life. She provided me with several legacies-“

Legacies??

“Listen,” you interrupt his rambling. “I think I need to go now.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like!” His desperation blazes to anger, “to have a longer lifespan than your mate. To have to watch her wither away!

“I loved her- formed an attachment where I was not juristicted to do so. I forged a life for her on Viltrum. Despite her inferior birth! And then I had to watch the consequences of my attachment! She died in my arms! Weak and suffering! And I am meant to- what? Continue living? For how long?”

He weakens, grabs ahold of your arms- tender finally, “Y/n, I cannot endure these years ahead without you.”

You melted a little. Because you understood. The heartbreak endured by the loss of half of this duo. The lengths you both would go to in order to retrieve the missing piece.

But, you couldn’t choose him. At least- at least not right now.

So you started shaking him off you- for the fifth time today you needed space. Time. A moment to think.

But he wouldn’t let you have that.

“No.” His hold tightens as you squirm against him, “no, I won’t let you leave me again.”

“You don’t have a choice” you shove your arms open- breaking his hold on you.

“My mission is done! Your mission is done! We’re leaving. Now.” His patience is growing thin, you can tell.

“I’m not going with you!”

“You leave me no choice.”

The wind shifts, and you struggle to breathe! A muscled arm presses down on your windpipe. You feel the expanse of a warm, strong body behind you- pressing into you. Somehow, with a swiftness your earth had never seen, he had gotten behind you. His arm help your throat in a chokehold, and another arm tied around your waist, pinning your arms, and promising to never let go.

“Let it happen, dear” he coos in your ear. “When you wake up, we will be home again” your vision was starting to black out, “and we will live to see stars burn out” your struggling was growing weaker, “and we will be together until we die.”

No no no no this can’t happen! You’re supposed to find your Mark! You made a deal. You had a mission. But the world was getting dizzy~ and you could feel yourself weakening~

A thunder crack and you could breathe again. Inhaling a gasp, you see your Viltrimite abducter on the ground.. pinned down by..

The variant with the full mask.

As oxygen rushed back into your brain, you made sense of what happened: the hooded Invincible had thrown himself into his Viltrimite counterpart- to save you.

Still atop the monochrome menace, he turned his face to you-

You were clutching the ground, still heaving in air. You wanted to thank him, but the Viltrimite recovered too quickly. Taking advantage of Masked Mark’s attention on you, the Viltrimite landed a hard punch on the fabric-covered face.

But Mark was always quick to recover. A punch there, a kick there. Pinning each other mercilessly to the ground. Until finally your masked crusader had the advantage again- for how long though, you weren’t sure. The two were so evenly matched.

But while pushing Viltrimite-face into the dirt, Invinsible looked back at you, again. His gaze was so powerful, despite his eyes being veiled.

You wondered how he would look underneath it all. Would he be the same?

But his gaze was pointed now- he’s telling you to go, you realize.

Oh Mark, you always jumped at the chance to save me.

You want to help, but the white-clad figure is up again, breaking Mark’s attention on you. You know it’s best to move on.

So with one mission completed, and the other entirely fucked- you speed away yet again. Leaving two versions of your love to make each other bleed.

How poetic.

——

You need somewhere quiet. Somewhere you feel comfortable enough to slow down and process all that has happened. Somewhere you feel safe.

Mark’s house.

You’re back where it started. A few doors down, you recognize your house- barely. The lawn was all wrong. And the paint colors were too orange. Your house was a beautiful blue and brown. The big maple tree in your front yard was just an old stump.

Had your family redecorated when you died in this world? How did you die? Or had they moved away, and this was the tasteless assortment of an entirely new family? What about your family in your own world? Were they somehow still alive? You hadn’t killed them directly, but with all the violence, you wouldn’t be surprised. Were they waiting for you? Did they miss you? Or had they redecorated too?

Ugh! These existential questions made your brain hurt. You needto resolve the tension in your head.

The living room was exactly how you remembered. The kitchen was exactly how you remembered. The stairs were exactly how you remembered.

Would Mark’s room be the same? You bite your lip as you stand outside the door.

You try to imagine the lives of each of the Marks you had encountered. How different they had all been. What did each of their rooms look like? White Viltrimite coldness? Bloodied wallpaper? A mansion’s plush king bed? Posters of Omni Man on the walls? Pictures of you?

But when you open the door, you gasp. It was so.. unexpected:

It was exactly the same as you remembered.

The seance dog poster, the collections of comic books, the blue sweaters hanging in the closet.

This.

This!! This was your Mark! Of course it was! Your Mark was a hero! He wasn’t one of those sadists destroying the world! How could you have forgotten??

And then you heard the front door open-

“Mom?” A ragged breath called out downstairs- “mom I’m hurt! Where are you?”

It was him! It had to be him, back from saving the world.

You couldn’t help it. Finally things seemed clear to you! Finally you knew what you were fighting for/ What you really wanted.

You rush down the stairs, ready to hold him in your arms. To make him love you if you have to-

A Mohawk.

Mark doesn’t have a Mohawk.

To be fair, he looks just as surprised to see you. Until he starts to look annoyed, and you realize he is not hurt as he starts to whine-

“Aw what the hell, you’re not mom-“ he stops, so suddenly. And stares. At you. All bravado gone, mouth gaping open like a dead fish. Just, staring. Then,

“..y/n?”

Ah dammit, your mask! You lost your mask when dealing with the Viltrimite!

“Is it..” he whispers, “is it really you?”

You don’t even recognize the man in front of you now- all his cockish arrogance dissipated and baked into something gooey and sweet.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say- but I’m not going with you- anywhere.” You start backing up the stairs again- “You can’t have me forever or whatever the fuck- so don’t try to-“

“That’s okay!” He hastily steps toward your retreating form, “all I asked for was a few minutes!”

“What?”

“My deal with Angstrom- I get to say goodbye.”

Oh God. Your heartstrings couldn’t help but play a sympathetic tune. This little annoying fucking prick asshole only asked for- a goodbye?

“What do you mean?” You try to keep your voice level. Steady girl.

“I-“ he sighs. “I lost my y/n. Dad killed her- in front of me. Said she was weak. Said she made me weak.” He looks down in anger, recalling the memory through blazing eyes. But then he looks up again, softer, at you- “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell her how much she- that I loved her. Y/N, I love you.”

Your heart clenches, how long had it been since you’d heard those words from Mark Grayson?

Your feet barely make a sound on the stairs as you descend towards the boy who had professed his heart.

“I-“ maybe this was okay to say. Maybe, because he only wanted this moment, you could allow yourself to indulge. Maybe you deserved to have this just as much as he did, “I love you too.”

And his lips find yours. Needy.

You think maybe you should pull away.

But his hands find your neck. Delicate.

And your arms find his shoulder blades. Desperate.

He’s a gentlemen; sweet and chaste. Until he’s not. Very quickly you’re reminded the nature of this variant.

His tongue is insatiable. It explores your mouth with hostility, and you’re pleasantly surprised to feel the cold smooth of a piercing purring itself across your hard palate.

His hands are naughty little explorers as well. They grope and squeeze anywhere they can find purchase, although they linger on your waist, the small of your back, your hair, and definitely your tits. He flicks your nip with his thumb, then returns to it with gentle fingers- feeling the nib grow slowly hard. He repeats the process, growling at the slow increase in sharpness.

You even allow him to grab handfuls of ass. For all his exploring, he discovers that pinching your ass causes you to yelp a little bit- which he loves.

But soon you can’t ignore the growing bulge in the crotch of his suit. And as he reaches for the tiny hidden zipper under your left arm (which of course he knows where the zipper is) you know you have to pull away. You only manage a few inches.

“Ah please baby- I’ve been waiting for this for years” he rasps out, refusing to fully let you go.

“This isn’t a good idea, I- I can’t.” You say, voice light but stiff.

“I forgot how good you kissed. Fuck, I need more babe.”

“That’s all you get.” You wipe your mouth- you gotta get ahold of yourself!

“But- Angstrom. I did my shit. I get more time with you!” His voice has that vulnerable waver in it again now, but it’s edged with something sharper.

“Time’s up.” You step back. This was nice, but you had to get your priorities straight! Only a few moments ago you had chosen your Mark Grayson- and it wasn’t the horny and pleading man in front of you now.

“No, I- c’mon. You- you said you loved me?” He was trying to rebuild his asshole facade, but it was collapsing in on him.

“I meant it.” You did.

“Then, you don’t have to go.” He smiled. An idea latching on in his brain. Uh oh. “Yes! Yeah, cmon. You and I- we could just, we could stay together. Do whatever we wanted. We were fire baby, let’s do it again.”

“No, Mark.”

Hearing his name caught him off guard, and for a moment you thought it might be enough to revert him back to that pleading puppy he was when he confessed his loved for you. Maybe it was enough for convince him to let you go.

It wasn’t.

His fiery eyes reignited tenfold, “Ohhhh baby” he whines- “say it again.”

“Stop it Mark.”

He shivers. “Yeah just like that.”

“You got your moment” you chide. “It’s over now. Get a grip or I‘ll smack you.”

He guffaws. You stand straighter, “I won’t warn you again.”

He’s right in your face in an instant- “you like being smacked a little. I remember. Dirty girl~”

CRACK!

and he was on the ground. Once again, you check for a pulse. He’ll reawaken soon. But for now, you need to begin the second part of your mission:

Secure a spot at the side of your chosen Mark.

And you know just where to look.

—

The pentagon.

Under several layers of ground of concrete, on the B6 floor, there is a top secret hospital wing. In room A2 of this wing, in the recovery unit, two of the strongest individuals on Earth are holding hands.

Eve Wilkins, who had fought valiantly, lays catatonic on the hospital bed. Her leg is crushed, but her heart now beeps rhythmically.

Mark Grayson, who could not protect her, sits beside her. Holding her hand gently at his forehead. He ignores the pleas of an old man.

“Mark, she is in the best hands. I can assure you that as soon as she wakes up, I will alert you. But right now, Earth needs you. You need to get out there, Mark.”

“No. No I’m not leaving her again.”

“Dammit Mark, lock the fuck in. I’m losing heroes left and right. They’re dropping like flies out there. Your brother is out there, Mark. Oliver.”

But the hero remains silent.

“Mark-“

“Sorry, sir. But we’ve got intel on one of the hostiles-“ a strawberry blonde man pokes his head in the room.

“Wha- fine. What is it, Donald?”

“The docile party- the one who doesn’t attack and who might have saved Rex Splode?”

“The girl?”

“Ah- yes, sir. We’ve acquired some new footage of her without her mask. It seems she is not a version of Mark at all.”

Great, cuz Mark’s been pissing me off.

“Who the hell is she?”

“We’ve run her face through our databases, and it seems she is- well, most likely a version of-“ the strawberry blonde man glances at the stoic hero still grave over the hospital bed, but continues- “y/n.”

—

The pentagon would be difficult to overpower. But you weren’t really looking to overpower it anyways. You just needed to make yourself seen.

Honestly, it was a miracle you hadn’t seen the Mark of this world already. Wasn’t he supposed to be protecting the earth? Where the hell was he?

Of course, you hadn’t been doing all that much fighting. You suppose you hadn’t made yourself a priority to a defender of earth.

You need to change that.

As you weave between skyscrapers, you make a mental note: don’t kill civilians. Your new Mark probably wouldn’t appreciate that. Could you still convince him to be with you despite all the damage you’d caused? He would still love you in this world.. right?

SHIT! Your eyes are dizzy as you are flipped belly-up, and rocketed upwards- WHAT THE HELL-

Getting your bearings a little, you realize you are being carried bridal style, and shooting up above the skyline.

“AHHH!! HEYYY!!” you scream blindly. You thrash about a bit, but you’re too disoriented to break the grip of your kidnapper.

Maybe it’s my new Mark? Finally come to pay me some attention?

“Hush now, I’ve got you, y/n.” A variant with Viltrimite logos on his shoulders, and a crisp voice soothes you. Or attempts to.

Damn. No such luck.

You’re tired of this. You jolt your legs up and flip over and out of his grasp. You’re not dizzy this time. No, you’re prepared now.

“Let me guess!” You huff, “you’re in love with me. Angstrom promised you could have me. You saw me flying by, and recognized me. You think you can forcefully claim me. Maybe that worked with your old y/n. But it won’t work with me.”

His eyes are wide with surprise.

“Ah, so Angstrom filled you in already? Good. That will make-“

“NO!” You huff. “Angstrom did NOT fill me in! I figured that out by MYSELF. Because apparently I am the ONLY Invincible who uses their brain. If you would use YOUR brain, you would turn around and leave me the hell alone!”

A moment.

He stared at you.

You huffed a bit.

You shoved a strand of hair of of your face.

And then he laughed.

A large, crystal clear laugh. It rung and sang out.

“I am-“ he stifles a giggle, “I am not used to you being so obstinate.”

“No,” you say flatly, “I’m sure you’re used to getting everything you want.”

“Ahh” he touches his finger to his nose, and winks at you- “that I am.”

You decide you’re going to kick this guy’s teeth in. But how many teeth? It depends. He is sporting two Viltrimite logos. But if past incidents are anything to go by, that’s neither here nor there.

You decide you need to gauge how much you hate this guy.

“So you’re another one of those Viltrum sycophants?”

“Ha! More than that. I am Viltrum’s emperor.”

Alright. So screw this guy!

Your leg is at his jaw in a fraction of a second, ready to kick sense into this guy by kicking some wisdoms out.

But he has caught your ankle in a- delicate- embrace.

Oh fuck.

This guy was insanely fast.

“I’ve enjoyed watching you toddle about with your stolen powers, but- word of advice?” Blinding pain. Agonizing pain in your ankle. He’s broken it, there’s bone protruding. “-don’t fuck with the guy that challenged the most powerful being in the universe and won.”

Your heart is in your stomach. Your hairs stand on end. Your nervous system feels like it’s trying to simultaneously jolt itself awake and into oblivion.

You’re fucking scared.

“AAH!” You cry out again as he releases your ankle. It drops deftly below you.

“Sorry about that, truly.” The predator states with sympathetic eyes- “it’s all tactical, really.”

Blood is gushing out of your ankle, you wonder how long the droplets will take drop on the city below?

“Lambs- you see. When lambs start to wander off from the herd, a Shepard will break its legs. The lamb has to rely on him. So the Shepard will carry the lamb around his shoulders, feeding it and keeping it warm. Until it learns a dependency. So, even when the lamb can walk again- it will never walk far from its loving Shepard.”

His teeth glint as he offers a tiny grin.

You feel yourself become lightheaded. You need to get out of here.

But he’s on you too fast. He offers an arm to you, but you do not take it. You try to back away, but he is insistent. He grabs your hands and wraps them into the crook of his arm.

Pretending to be a gentleman.

He’s not a gentleman. He’s not a Shepard. He’s a wolf.

He’s worse than a wolf. He’s the fucking emperor of Viltrum. You start to really take in what that means. How someone would go about becoming the leader of a warrior species. What they would have to do. What this man had obviously done. Had he killed the emperor before him? That’s.. beyond what you had thought possible. This couldn’t fathomably be Mark Grayson. Your sweet Mark Grayson. And yet it was.

It was at this moment you finally had to contend with yourself;

your Mark was always deranged.

Your Mark had fed you blood. His blood. For months. Without telling you.

Whether he could punch through the core of the Earth or not, Mark Grayson would always be.. fucked.

But strangely, the thought was comforting. It reassured you- that maybe you were not so alone and awful as you had thought.

Taking into consideration everything you had witnessed today- you were finally able to console yourself on one horrible fear which had followed you since Mark had died-

No matter what, Mark Grayson would always love you.

You almost smiled.

“We’ll be happy together, sweet lamb.”

Almost.

—

Fuck. It couldn’t really be you, could it? You had been gone so long, ever since..

No it probably wasn’t you. Don’t get your hopes up, Grayson.

Even if Donald had said the blurry photo of your face was a 90% match.

FUCK! Even just seeing your face- however blurry- was painful and perfect and horrible and wonderful and-

DAMMIT!! What the hell is a guy supposed to do in this scenario? SHIT what was he gonna tell Eve?

Eve is gonna be pissed.

I mean, as soon as Donald mentioned your name, he was up off that hospital bed. He was demanding where you were, how certain they were it was you, what you had been doing, how this was even possible…

And SHITTTT you were wearing HIS SUIT?? FUCK, you had to come back swinging, didn’t you?

But that was JUST LIKE YOU! Of course you would make some grand entrance back into his life. Of course you would be this perfect mess of contradictions.

Making him second guess himself!!

You bear his insignia, but you show up with versions of him intent on destroying the Earth. But you aren’t destroying the earth. But you aren’t exactly helping, either. You look like his first love, but you don’t love him back? Are you on his side? Do you care about him?

FUCK!

He feels like he’s in grade school again. He feels like he’s watching you kiss Toby Fichte at camp again. He feels like he’s playing superheroes with towels for capes in the backyard again. He feels like you’re sitting together, eating sliced apples again. He feels like he’s holding your cold body, and crying out your name again.

And he’s chasing after you again, too.

He can’t help it.

He loves you. No matter what.

He’s speeding towards the Seattle skyline, searching for you, when he catches the faintest smell. It’s sliced apples. It’s campgrounds. It’s comic book pages. It’s clean towels. For a moment, he’s home.

But then he catches something else-

Copper.

—————————————————————————

Wow! Okay so that was WAY LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE!!

I hope you enjoyed!! I took a good amount of creative liberties (I only watch the show, and although I did some research- I didn’t want to spend more nights working on this than I already had). I tried to get all my favorite variants a good chunk of screen time!!

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like a part 2! Also which variant do you think you would choose?

Anyways; much love, and thank you for reading my VERY LONG post. Be well!! :)

[redvexillum]

💖 Vexi Update 💖

Guess who crawled out of the corporate overtime abyss with coffee-stained dignity and a stack of half-finished reports? This gal! Did ya miss me? (Lie to me if you didn’t.) While I was being held hostage by deadlines and adulting, I hope the brilliant writers and artists around here kept your hearts warm and your imaginations fed. 

Okay, storytime my beautiful gremlins: remember back in the day when I used to post constantly? Like, practically breathing out fanfics? YEAH, turns out that was at the horrifying cost of completely neglecting my actual work and life. (Please... don’t look at me like that. I know, okay?? My impulse control is about as sturdy as wet tissue paper. AHHH.)

Anyway! Here's the deal—posting like a maniac isn't exactly sustainable unless I wanna be homeless but with vibes ✨️. So why am I telling you this when all you want is more spicy shenanigans with LCD TV Man, Deer Demon, and maybe the Sad Devil?

Because! My wonderful, wise friend Kit a.k.a @redfoxwritesstuff (bless her patient soul) taught me a valuable lesson: slow and steady updates are way better than dumping a story buffet and then vanishing into the void for, uh... counts on fingers... over five months.

Sooo the new plan? Scheduled updates! Actual routines! Feeding you delightful gremlins just enough to keep you full without starving you for half a year! (You’re welcome.)

And guess what? I've actually got some projects lined up!

First, I must finish my extremely belated New Year's kisses (seriously, it's almost embarrassing at this point). Then, I’m planning to finally sit down and edit some raw stories I’ve been hoarding like a dragon with emotional baggage. No joke, I legit have almost an entire story written—raw, completely unedited—but hey, it should be ready soon! (Hopefully! Haha...ha.)

Now I’m ready to dust off the cobwebs in my creative attic and shake off the metaphorical constipation (yep, it’s that kind of re-entry). It might take a few awkward story stretches and cringey one-shots before I get my rhythm back, so bear with me while I recalibrate from "boring office zombie" to "smoll sad party bonzanas. 🥳" 

How long will I maintain this Responsible Era ✨️?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

No clue. But let’s enjoy the chaotic semi-organization while it lasts. Bwahaha.

My goal is to start updating near the 🌸 end of May/early June 🌸, so...

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 22

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 22

I might have something. You’re going to hate it. Meet to discuss?

Far from the confident lead he’d hoped for, but that’s the text he got from Duke earlier that evening. He tried to tease more information out of him, but the kid was adamant about discussing things face to face. Suspicious, but a fair request given the nature of their work. It was smarter not to talk about it over text if they could help it.

Jason still wasn’t happy about it though.

They planned to meet on the street near a safehouse located in the heart of his territory. Duke arrived in street clothes, torn jeans with an old puffer coat thrown over his hoodie. A smart move now that the sun had gone down. The yellow suit was bound to attract the wrong attention, and Jason didn’t need rumors swirling around that Red Hood was letting the Bats run amuck in Crime Alley.

Jason dropped down from where he stood watch on the roof, the hiss of his grapple gun still ringing in his ears. Duke, to his credit, didn’t even flinch. In fact, he’d never seen him more at ease than he was now, dressed as a civilian.

“This better be good.”

Duke rubbed his shorn hair. “Hey, Duke, how are you?” He said, doing what Jason could only assume was a bad impression his Jersey drawl. “Oh, ya know, same old, same old. Stopped a bank robbery the other day. Saved some kids from a burning building this morning. Oh, and I got the final hit on a Gelatinous Cube at D&D. No big. Just the highlight of my week.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I would be more impressed if it was a Beholder.”

He balked. “No way. You play?”

“Not in a while,” he said with a shrug, “Let me guess? Cleric?”

“Artificer, actually,” Duke said as he shoved his hands on his pockets, “Barbarian for you?”

“Bard.”

“Oh?”

Yeah, he expected that wide-eyed expression. He would assume he played the angry brawler class. At the very least, he wanted people to guess he played a gunslinger, but no, he would forever be the angry guy. Bullshit. Bards were infinitely more fun.

“I didn’t come here to discuss TTRPGs with you.”

“Right,” Duke said slowly, “Okay, well, let me start by saying that none of this is my fault. I was doing exactly what you asked of me and, ya know, things kinda spiraled out of hand from there.”

He narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t a promising start. “Okay?”

“But the good news is we found something.”

Hold up. Pause. Rewind.

“We? Who the fuck is we?” Deep down, Jason already knew the answer to his question, but he foolishly clung to the hope that Duke teamed up with an amiable rogue instead.

“We are a team.”

Jason swore under his breath as Tim, in all his Robin glory, hit the ground beside Duke.

“It’s been a while,” he said with a thin smile.

“Not long enough,” he shot back, “Whatever you know, forget it. I can do this alone like I should have from the start.”

“You see, that’s the problem with Leos.”

He resisted the urge to scream when Steph pulled up behind him, a swagger in her step and a pinch around her eyes that betrayed the smile hidden beneath her mask. This was precisely why he didn’t want to ask for help. This was quickly becoming a ‘family’ affair.

“Stubborn pride always comes back to bite you in the end. That was your horoscope, FYI. Be wary of pride. It keeps you from the goal at the end of a long road. A little on the nose given the situation, but eh.” She slung an arm around his shoulders. “No one said that horoscopes were subtle.”

Jason shoved her off, a growl ripping from his throat. “I gave Signal permission to come into my territory. You two are breaking an agreement.” His hand fell to his gun. “Scram before I start shooting.”

“Tt.”

His eye twitched.

Damian appeared around his other side with his hood drawn low over his eyes, though it failed to hide the general arrogance that permeated the air wherever he went. “First, you do not shoot that ruffian Blood Knuckle all those months ago, now you’re making idle threats against us. You are embarrassing yourself, crime lord.”

Jason had enough self-restraint not to punt a child halfway across Gotham, even if the snot deserved a swift kick in the ass. Instead, he turned his ire on Duke, who was now the odd man out in his street clothes. “What the fuck, Narrows? I told you I didn’t want to ask the others for help.”

Duke choked on a laugh. “Yeah, okay. You thought I could keep this to myself without the others finding out? First off, we’re detectives trained by Batman, world’s greatest detective.”

“Allegedly,” Steph cut in.

“Second, Oracle tracks my patrol routes. She knew something was up the second I crossed into your territory. Have you ever been grilled by her? I’m normally pretty good under pressure, but with her, I folded faster than an umbrella during a hurricane.”

“From there, I looped in Robin,” Babs' voice fed into his ear. Jason should have expected her to listen in. She had tabs on his vitals for Christ’s sake.

“I told Spoiler,” Tim said helpfully.

“And I informed Orphan,” Steph piped up, “She’s on a Bird’s of Prey mission tonight, otherwise she’d be here too. She was sad to miss it, but I promised to give her a play-by-play later.”

“That still doesn’t explain why the demon brat is here?”

“Tt.”

“We’re working on a case together,” Steph said as if it were obvious, “That’s what happens when you work a team, but when Rob told me he was talking to you tonight, I dropped everything to be here. Since I knew the brat would follow me anyway, I clued him in on what was happening.”

Jason chewed the inside of his cheek. “So, does everyone know?”

“Nightwing is out of the country,” Babs offered, the click of her keys accompanying her voice, “No point in telling him until he gets back.”

But she still planned on telling him.

Lovely.

Damian crossed his arms. “It was also agreed on by the others that Batman would not be involved.”

At least there was a silver lining.

He turned to Duke—the only one he wanted to hear from—to pose his next question. “What did—”

Duke raised his hand, effectively cutting him off, and walked back the way he came. “Nuh uh. I did my part. See something, say something, and all that noise. I just came to facilitate this messy family reunion, and now, I’m off the clock. I have a math test to study for and a lot of sleep to catch up on. You’re on your own from here.”

“You can forget about me helping with your college essays.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Duke shot back.

Jason reeled. The gall of this kid. “I mean it.”

“Sure, ya do, man.”

Predictably, Duke called his bluff. Refusing to help him would take more self-respect than Jason realistically had. He buried his helmet in his hand and muttered, “I’ve been bamboozled.”

Steph snorted. “Who says bamboozled unironically?”

“Like it’s hard to pull a fast one over you,” Tim said.

Jason swung. Tim easily dodged the first punch but missed the second fist that connected with his gut. He doubled over, face turning an impressive shade of purple as he swallowed his grunt. It was mollifying to see, but a broken nose would have been infinitely more satisfying.

He leaned down to growl in his ear, “That was for telling her about the letters.”

“Do you feel better now?” he wheezed.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” Tim knocked him off his feet with a quick swipe of his leg. He landed heavily on his shoulder, knocking the wind out of him. “So, do I, and that was just because I wanted to.” He offered his hand to help him up.

Jason knocked it away and grappled to his feet. He gave his shoulder an experimental roll, wincing when it twinged.

“Pathetic,” Damian scoffed, “You could have drawn blood at least.”

Tim shot him a warning look before continuing, “Now that we’ve gotten that out of our system, we can move onto the matter at hand. If you’ll come back to the cave, we can—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable,” Jason echoed, “Reasonable. This is my case. I went to Signal because I wanted to avoid this becoming a Batman issue. That’s exactly what’ll happen if I step foot into that cave. Black Mask isn’t worth it.”

“You enlisted help for Black Mask?” Damian didn’t even try to hide the judgement in his tone.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. At least, I have an archnemesis.”

Steph pulled down her mask to reveal her grimace. “Yeesh. Are you really winning if you consider him your archnemesis? I thought you had a higher standard than that.”

Jason gave her a dead-eyed stare. “Black Mask nearly killed you.”

“Hood,” Babs snapped in his ear, “Uncalled for.”

Her expression shuttered, the usual sunshine and rainbows giving way to something much darker as a sardonic smile slid across her face. Too many teeth and not nearly enough whimsy. It was a jarring change to witness, but at least he knew Steph had her demons like the rest of them.

“Like I said, standards,” she said as she replaced her face mask, “You don’t see me walking around calling him my archnemesis.”

They were getting off track. The sooner he got the information. The sooner he could kick them out of his territory and move on with his life. “No Batcave. No Batman. We can talk in my safehouse if you want to do this somewhere else.”

Tim shrugged. “Fine.”

“Pass,” Damian said as he turned on his heel, “I thought this was going to be more interesting than our usual bickering and dallying. Are you coming, Spoiler?”

“Nah, I wanna see how this pans out.” Some pep returned to her voice as she planted a hand on her hip. “I’ll catch you back at the cave, and we can compare notes.”

“Suit yourself. Let me know if a real fight breaks out between them. Only then will it be worth my time.” He didn’t deign to say goodbye and hurried off into the night, the soles of his boots noiseless against the pavement. Jason was relieved to see him go. There was only so much he could take before he snapped.

“So, are we doing this or not?”

Tim motioned for him to lead the way.

His safehouse was a short walk from the alley, a one-bedroom in what was otherwise a condemned apartment building. In a lot of ways, it reminded him of where he grew up. Cracked plaster revealed the brick beneath. Floorboards that squeaked when he walked on them. Some spots softer than others under his heavy boots.

“Please tell me you don’t live here full-time,” Steph said as she took in the bare walls and scant, cheap furniture. Her gaze snagged on the small succulent decorating the counter, eyes narrowing. “This is depressing, even for you.”

“Again. I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He tugged off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. “Alright. We’re alone. Tell me what you found.”

Tim pulled a tablet from the depths of his cape. Where did he hide it? No clue. Jason decided it was better not to ask questions he didn’t want the answers to. With his eyes glued to the screen, he said, “I think we might be investigating the same case.”

“How do you figure that?”

“We have to turn back the clock a bit before we get to that,” he said as he swiped absently through several tabs on his tablet, “Context first. Over the summer, we discovered a series of break-ins at Wayne-owned warehouses at Gotham harbor. Chemicals were stolen. You caught me reviewing surveillance footage that night.”

It took Jason a second to piece together what he was referring to. Did he mean the night he broke into Wayne Enterprises? That had to be it. He thought it was weird to find Tim there. If he’d pressed a little harder, he might have found a lead sooner.

“What components were stolen?”

“Ones used to make fear toxin.”

Jason blinked. “Scarecrow?”

“Except it wasn’t him. He’s been locked in Arkham since last year, and that hasn’t changed. He’s also not known for employing henchmen, but this wouldn’t be the first time another rogue got their hands on fear toxin without Crane being involved.” He flipped his screen around to show Jason. Two men in nondescript black clothes approached the warehouse before the video went fuzzy. “For all our state-of-the-art technology, they managed to circumvent the cameras, and we found very little at the scene of the crime. I’ll admit, it was a clean job save for this bit of video.”

Huh. Much like Bruce, he saw the world through a fractured lens riddled with imperfections. Using those imperfections, Tim could draw conclusions. It was always about what was broken and how he could fix it. If he was commending them for a job well done, that meant something.

“And how does that connect to my case? The harbor doesn’t fall within my territory last I checked.”

“Maybe not, but the goods were moved several times,” Babs cut in.

The screen progressed as she remoted into his tablet. Green blips appeared on a street view of Jason’s territory. “They stayed to the periphery of your territory, but one veered too close and caught your attention.”

A final blip appeared in red. He recognized it immediately. It was the surveillance mission he botched. Luca had said that was part of a trail of breadcrumbs left by Mask to keep Hood off his trail.

But…

He never got around to checking the goods inside the warehouse. “A warehouse belonging to Mask full of lifted chemicals,” he breathed.

“Chemicals that you left behind,” Tim stressed as if Jason wasn’t feeling bad enough, “Paving the way for Black Mask to do as he pleased with them. Nice work.”

“Oh, cut the guy some slack. He fully intended to blow the place to high hell.” Steph sidled into the kitchen to pick up the succulent, studying it closely. Jason resisted the urge to rip it from her hands. “Why didn’t you blow it to high hell again?”

He didn’t owe them an explanation. “So, what are you saying? That fear toxin is some new wonder drug on the street?” It sounded absurd when he said it out loud. “I don’t believe it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tim scoffed.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair. “How am I the ridiculous one here?”

“Everyone knows about the harmful side effects of fear toxin in a more concentrated dose,” Tim continued with his usual air of superiority, “But microdosing seems to be the fad. People crave the rush of adrenaline that comes with fear.”

“Sounds like you would know that from experience?”

Tim merely shrugged, neither confirming nor denying the claim.

“I don’t believe you,” Jason reiterated as he snatched the succulent from Steph’s hands, returning it to its rightful place on the counter. Her pout went ignored as he continued, “I’m the drug guy. I would know if—”

His phone started vibrating in his back pocket, nearly giving him a heart attack. It didn’t usually ring. Not unless… He pulled it out, seeing your name on the screen. The corner of his mouth twitched up into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Woah, what the hell was that?”

The smile dropped. “What was what?”

“That thing you just did with your face right now. Was that a smile?” Steph pinched his cheek, scrutinizing his face. “Were you just smiling at your phone? I didn’t know you knew how to do that?”

 Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “Steph.”

“Excuse me for taking an interest in his life. You should try it some time. Maybe if you do, he’ll stop acting like no one likes him.” She popped onto her toes to look at his phone. He tried to hide it, but he wasn’t fast enough for her discerning gaze. A sharp breath passed through her teeth. “That bitch. She told me she wasn’t seeing you.”

He shooed her away as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey?”

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue like this. Are you in the middle of something?”

You sounded off, your voice brittle as if you were holding back tears. He glanced back at the other two before saying, “No.”

The line crackled with your whimper. “No, you’re busy. I knew it. I’m sorry. I interrupted you, didn’t I? Never mind. It was st—”

“Woah, woah.” He lowered his voice, turning his back on the others. “No need to freak out on me, lovebug. You don’t have to apologize. I can talk. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

It was hard not to jump to the worst-case scenario with an answer like that, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“Please.”

You could have asked him to walk barefoot over a bed of rusty nails and he would have done so in a heartbeat. Forget the case. Forget Tim and Steph. If you needed him, he’d drop everything to ensure you were alright. Even over the phone, he could tell something was wrong.

“Hold tight.” He shrugged off his leather jacket, “Ten minutes tops.”

He hung up, feeling the weight of judgement on his back. Tim gave him an indecipherable look before turning his attention back to his tablet. Probably stowing this moment away to use against him later. There was no escaping a comment from Steph.

“Lovebug?” she asked, “That’s adorable.”

He flushed. Pet names weren’t really his style, but it came out as if it were the most natural thing. Lovebug, of all things. That would not stick if he could help it.

“Shut up,” he said as he grabbed a hoodie draped over the back of his futon and threw it over his head. “I need to go.”

“We’re not done,” Tim deadpanned.

“I know that. I’ll be back, but I need to—” Fuck it. He didn’t owe them an explanation here either. He unbuckled his holsters and left them on the counter as he passed. “Give me a half hour. We can pick up where we left when I get back.”

But for now, he only had one thing on his mind. You.

***

He arrived outside the opera ten minutes later, an impressive feat given it was usually a twenty-minute drive from his safehouse. You sat on the curb with a young man with shaggy blonde hair that flopped down into his eyes. Jason threw down the kickstand and killed the engine. The blonde looked up as he tugged off his helmet (a completely normal helmet—Jason wasn’t dense enough to ride up in full Red Hood gear), giving him a clearer view of his face.

Jason had to do a double take.

That kid from the warehouse—Evan—was currently sitting on the curb… with you. He wasn’t sure what to make of this situation as he slid off his bike and approached, hiding his initial surprise behind something more neutral.

You hid your face in your arms. The yellow jacket draped over your shoulders. You shivered despite it.

He crouched in front of you. “Hey, lovebug.”

Again, it just kind of slipped out, and it still didn’t feel quite right. Luckily, you were too out of it to notice his bland attempts at affection. He tried again, “What happened?”

Finally, you dragged your gaze toward him. He swallowed his gasp. Your pupils eclipsed your irises, creating an abyss of black that unsettled him. You searched for the words, eyes darting back and forth as if they floated in the air over his head. In the end, you gave up and buried your face in your arms once more.

Evan leaned in and whispered, “Is this Jacob?”

“That’d be me, kid. You staying out of trouble these days?” A dumb question, he realized a second too late, but it had already left his lips. Jacob had never met Evan before tonight, and knew nothing about his rough past, but Red Hood was more invested in his wellbeing. Obviously, something was going right for him if he was here.

With you.

He couldn’t quite get over that.

It was funny how small the world could be.

Evan gave him a once over, taking in the beaten combat boots and the scars on his face. “Are you?”

Touche. Jason let the topic drop. “Do you know what happened?”

“Everything was fine. I was running around in the main dining room while she was working in the executive lounge with the top donors. She mentioned they were a bunch of freaks before the party started. I thought she was pulling my leg until I heard a scream. She ran from the room, and I didn’t see her for ten minutes. I found her in the bathroom on the verge of a panic attack, but she claims she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Did she drink anything?” Jason turned back to you. “Did you drink anything?”

You shook your head.

“Did you eat anything?”

Another shake of your head.

“What about—”

“Enough.” Evan shifted in front of you as if Jason wasn’t at least a head taller and twice as wide. “She’s clearly overwhelmed. Stop grilling her like she’s in an interrogation room.”

Jason withdrew like a scolded child. That was exactly what he was doing, and he failed to temper the shame that burned his cheeks. It was hard not to be in detective mode when faced with a situation like this. While it was possible you’d come down with something, it seemed more complicated than a stomach bug.

“What about you? Are you feeling weird?”

He fidgeted under his discerning gaze. “I’m fine.”

As it stood, you weren’t in any state to be alone. He’d have to take you back to his place. Where Tim and Steph were currently waiting for him. An inevitable cross-section of various aspects of his life stood in front of him, and it made him viscerally ill to consider. Jason couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“Do you feel comfortable going with me?”

“Yeah,” you managed after a second.

That was progress. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded. Evan scooted away, albeit reluctantly, allowing Jason to wrap an arm around your waist. He helped you to your feet and led you over to his motorcycle. Evan followed a few steps behind, distrust for Jason plain on his face.

“Are you taking her back to her place?” he pressed, “Not yours, right?”

Jason didn’t appreciate the insinuation in his tone. Despite an appearance that suggested otherwise, he would never take advantage of you. Evan might not know that, but come on, kid. Jason was clearly worried about you too. “That’s none of your business. Why would she call me if she didn’t feel safe with me?”

“Well, you weren’t the first person she called.”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Ouch. That was the last thing he needed to hear right now, but he tried not to let the pain show on his face as he grabbed a second helmet from the bag on the back of his bike.

“Evan, I appreciate you looking out for me, but you can leave him alone,” you pleaded, seeming to find your words to rise to his defense, “I trust him and that’s all you need to know.”

“But—”

“Evan, thank you.”

You patted his cheek with a sort of maternal affection. He didn’t shy away from it like he would expect from a broody teenager. Jason felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. From one touch-starved kid to another, he knew all too well how nice it felt to be doted on.

“Really, I appreciate your concern, but not tonight.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, his gaze shifting between Jason and the motorcycle. Everything about Jason probably reminded him of the life he wanted to leave behind. It was good the kid found someone like you to encourage him. A good influence.

God knows, it was never going to be him.

Evan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll send you a text later. Feel better.” With that, he trudged back into the opera house.

Once he disappeared, you placed a hand on his chest and said, “I called Steph first. Didn’t want to bother you.”

Shame hollowed his chest. He shouldn’t have let Evan get in his head like that, but the thought of becoming your second choice terrified him. “You’re never a bother. You don’t need to explain yourself, hon.” Better, but still not quite right. He pressed a quick kiss to your hairline before placing the helmet on your head. “I’m going to take you back to my place. Is that okay?”

“Your place?”

“I have some company at the moment.”

Your eyes widened through the tinted glass.

“The good kind.” Though good was relative in this case. He would have preferred to introduce you to one of his henchmen instead. Most of them were good guys. Well, outside of the drug trafficking part of the gig. “Is that alright? I didn’t want to blindside you.”

“It’s fine,” you said as you shoved your arms through the sleeves of your jacket, “I was the one who interrupted you.”

Jason swallowed his argument, knowing you’d be rehashing the same issue. You weren’t in the right headspace to hear him when he said this wasn’t an inconvenience. He replaced his helmet and activated his comm. “Oracle, I’m on my way back now. Can you let the others know to mask up if they’ve gotten comfortable. I’ll—” He glanced back. Your hands shook as you struggled with your zipper. He held your hands to steady them and helped you guide the pieces together. You managed to zip it yourself once they were fitted together. “I’m bringing a civilian back with me.”

Her beat of silence spoke volumes. “And you think that’s wise?”

“It’s my safehouse. I can bring back whoever I please.”

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll relay the message.”

“Thank you.”

The drive back passed in veritable silence. No wandering hands, though he felt the consistent tremor that you tried to hide by pressing your palms flat against his torso. No coy smiles, no sarcastic quips, just brittle exhales feeding into his ear when he took a side street a scooch too fast. He slowed considerably to avoid scaring you.

It was unnerving to see you like this. Jason didn’t know how to describe it, only that it wasn’t right. When he pulled up outside his place, you slipped off the bike and removed your helmet.

You rubbed your palms together as he dismounted. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” you said carefully as you took in the crumbling brick building in front of you, “The fresh air helped. My vision is a little...” You blinked a few times. “Shadows are more pronounced than usual, I guess.”

That failed to ease his conscience, but he would press the issue later, when you were more like yourself. He pressed your hands between his palms. They were colder than a shard of ice. He kissed your fingertips. “I'll wrap this up quickly, but once I’m done, we can talk about what happened tonight. If you want to talk about it, that is.”

You’d shown him grace with his secrets. He could do the same for you. “I don’t expect you to drop everything for me. This was more than enough, so take your time. I can survive now that you’re nearby.”

You had no idea how much that meant to him. Knowing you found his presence comforting made his heart swell. “I’ll get you comfortable first.”

Or as comfortable as you could get in his place.

He led you inside, up three flights of stairs until you reached his one-bedroom. The other two sat at the table, still masked up, much to his relief. Tim sat backwards in his chair with his chin resting on the back, snoozing. Typical. You didn’t balk as Jason ushered you inside. Not like Steph who openly stared after you, her concern evident as you stumbled in the dim light.

Way to be obvious.

Jason waved her off, hoping it conveyed that he had things handled as he led you into his bedroom. For once, he was grateful for his minimalist lifestyle. His bedroom was mostly clean save for a few articles of clothing littering the floor, but at least it didn’t smell. His bed was also made—likely because he’d been sustaining himself on naps at your place over the last few days.

You settled at the foot of the bed, a quick sweep of your gaze all you offered his place. Jason kneeled in front of you. “Do you need water? A blanket?”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not made of glass. Like I said, I feel better already.”

You looked better, a bit of the color returning to your cheeks. He still had a lot of questions. Ones you might not have the answer to, and the uncertainty sat poorly with him. Unsure of what else to do, he kissed your hairline again. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be with, uh...”

“Robin and Spoiler,” you said, your tone unreadable.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I might have been more concerned to see Batman.”

It was a bland attempt at a joke, but it made him feel slightly better about leaving you alone for a little bit. “Be back in a little bit.” He stood and returned to the kitchen.

Steph rose from her chair. “Is she okay?”

“Unclear,” he admitted as he closed the door firmly behind him, “She’s better than she was when I found her. It’ll pass, whatever it is.” He lowered his voice and added, “She tried calling you first, FYI, but you were here instead, living for the drama. Was it worth it?”

She lowered her gaze, ashamed. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t. You made your choice, and I made mine. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Jason kicked Tim’s chair as he passed. “Rise and shine, princess.”

He jolted awake. Drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he straightened, “I was awake.”

“Sure, ya were.” Jason leaned casually against the counter with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “So, where were we? Fear toxin on the streets, right? That’s bullshit. I would know if there was a new drug on the market.”

“Only you wouldn’t because it isn’t starting in your territory,” Tim said, almost bored.

“And you would know that how?”

“Because it’s not,” Babs chimed in, this time through the tablet. A pixelated image of the Oracle sprite appeared on the screen, casting a sickly green glow across their faces.

Jason was suddenly in the Lazarus Pit, electric green as far as the eye could see as the pool worked its magic. Fitting his broken bones back together and making him whole again. It was as painful as it sounded. He looked away, shoving the memory away as she continued.

“Instead of starting on the streets and working their way up to more influential circles, it appears Mask decided to start from the top and work his way down.”

“I witnessed it in a real time the other week when I attended a party with Br—” Steph elbowed him sharply in the side and nodded to the closed door that led into Jason’s bedroom. It was unlikely that you were eavesdropping, but he’d been wrong before.

Tim licked his teeth and amended, “Some guests partook. They dip cigarette paper in fear toxin and smoke it with their tobacco or weed. It’s the smoke that doles out a hit. Leave it to the ultra-wealthy to get a kick out of experiencing fear.”

“Ironic,” Jason grunted, “Has anyone informed them that all they need to do is look out their windows to see the horrors of the world? Or is that too rustic for their tastes?”

Steph shuddered. “Rich people are the worst.”

“Not all rich people partake,” Tim mumbled sourly.

“Still rich. Still a pain in my ass.” Jason shoved off the counter. “You heard Oracle. What happens when small-time dealers catch wind of it and start distributing it on the streets. They’ll make dupes or cut it with other shit that makes it more dangerous.” A headache prickled at his temples just thinking about it. That would make a mess of his operation, for sure. “How do we stop that from happening?”

“We find the man behind it. Black Mask.”

“Wow. Fantastic.” He deadpanned. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“But you didn’t have us before now,” Steph said in a tone that was surprisingly earnest, “We can help if you let us.”

Anyone else would have taken the olive branch she extended and moved one, but Jason was too proud to make things easy for himself. “Say I accepted your help. Hypothetically.” Steph and Tim shared a look but let him continue. “What would that entail?”

“A supplier would be a good place to start. There’s enough evidence to suggest that Black Mask is the Puppet Master, but we need to know how this new operation works. The sooner we find the suppliers, the sooner we can cut off the supply,” Babs said, her sprite flickering as if the mouth were moving with her words, “While the paper isn’t as potent as the original recipe, the drug is still a liability if bystanders inhale smoke secondhand. They’ll feel the effects all the same, creating a ripple effect you don’t see in other drugs on the market.”

“What are the effects?”

Tim said, “Paranoia, mild hallucinations, elevated heartrate, the usual schtick you see with fear toxin, just milder. It’s still—”

“Are you saying I was unwittingly dosed with fear toxin tonight?”

You stood in the door that had been closed seconds ago. Jason swore he stopped breathing. You threw an old hoodie over your clothes with the hood drawn. He swallowed thickly, trying not to fixate on the fact you were wearing his clothes and instead on the matter at hand.

“Come again?”

“Tonight. While I was working, Delilah Cadwell—her friend blew smoke in my face. I thought it was a cigarette but those side effects that you described were exactly what I experienced.” You stepped further into the room, undaunted by the masked vigilantes sitting at the table. In fact, you spared them little more than a glance as you went on, “There was fear toxin at the party tonight. It would explain why Delilah was acting weird and why I saw...”

You trailed off.

Jason had no idea what you saw, but he stepped forward to place a steadying hand on your back, captivated audience be damned. “Are you sure?”

“Hand-rolled cigarettes,” you stated soberly, “Delilah loves them, but they smelled off tonight. Like decay. If they’re dipping cigarette paper in toxin and smoking it, then yeah, I’m sure.”

So, you had been eavesdropping.

“You were dosed?” Tim grabbed his tablet. “What else can you tell us? Would you be willing to give us a sample of your bl—”

Jason stepped in front of you. “No one touches her.”

“Jacob, it’s fine.”

Steph and Tim shared a similar reaction, a small pinch to the eyebrows that betrayed their surprise. They missed a couple chapters in your relationship, but Jacob remained a constant since they last saw him with you. He didn’t need their judgement. He judged himself for letting this go on for as long as it had.

“You want a blood sample?” You pushed up your sleeves as you spoke. “If you think it’ll help, but I only got a puff to the face. Will it even register?”

Tim considered your question. “It should, even if your symptoms have passed. Are you encountering any residual side effects we should know about? Shortness of breath? Nerve spasms?”

“A little shaky,” you said, unnervingly calm for someone who just discovered they were drugged, “Shadows are darker.”

Tim nodded as his fingers flew across the screen. “That seems to coincide with the lingering side effects of fear toxin,” he noted absently, “Are you afraid of needles?”

Jason held up a hand before you could answer. “I'm not sticking her like a pin cushion. A blood sample isn’t going to do anything except satiate your little mad scientist brain, so let’s focus on the task at hand—finding a supplier. How do you propose we do that?”

Tim paused, his gaze falling back to you. “I think our connection is right in front of us.”

Steph curbed her surprise. “Robin, that’s reckless, even for you.”

“You work these parties. You’re intimately aware of the comings and goings of this crowd, yet your job allows you to witness the action from the outside. You would recognize something was amiss—if someone was amiss?”

Jason realized what Tim was hinting at. Involve you. He sputtered, “You want her to find the supplier. No. Not happening. She’s a civilian.”

“That’s for her to decide,” he insisted, “It’s not like I’m asking her to apprehend anyone. I think a tracker would suffice. One link inevitably leads to another, all the way up the chain.” He snapped. “And that’s how we find Black Mask.”

“I’m not putting her at risk.”

Tim leveled him with an unwavering stare. “You already have.”

Jason didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even though he made a valid point. Interacting with you puts you at risk. There was a reason vigilantes kept their identities a secret. The more you knew, the bigger the target on your back. He knew that, and he continued to see you anyway. Trying to keep you from helping now was hypocritical, but he also hated to watch you put yourself in harm’s way for his sake.

“We can stop talking as if I’m not here,” you said flatly, stepping around Jason to speak with Tim directly, “If you’re asking for my help, I accept. A supplier was likely there tonight, right under my nose. It’ll likely happen again, so why not make myself useful if I’m already on the field. I work at an art exhibition next week. If there was toxin at the opera, I bet it’ll also be at the art museum.”

“Fine, but you’re not doing it alone,” Jason conceded, “I’ll find a way to be there too. Undercover, or whatever.” That earned him a round of skeptical looks, even from you. He bristled. “Fine, I’ll go as myself. I can ask my buddy Tim Drake to get me in.”

A muscle in his jaw feathered. “That’ll make things messy.”

“I’m not sitting back and letting her handle something I should have nipped in the bud months ago.”

“I think that’s smart,” Babs piped in from the tablet.

You startled a little at the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to scare you.” Tim turned the tablet around to show Babs’ sprite again. “I’m Oracle. The eyes and ears of our operation. Don’t let them tell you any differently.”

“We would never,” Tim insisted.

“Ditto,” Steph piped in.

She ignored them. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you said, taking it in stride, “You want Jacob there.”

“Jacob,” Babs said his name sharper than she probably intended. He was never living this down. “Is perfectly capable and well-intentioned. A second set of hands isn’t necessarily a bad thing either. We don’t know who this supplier is or where they’ll be. Having two of you will ensure they don’t slip through our fingers this time.”

“Alright, fine.” you conceded as you took the tablet from Tim. He let you without argument. “What’s the plan?”

He swore the sprite smiled. “Have a seat and I’ll give you a crash course in vigilante.”

You settled in the empty chair beside Steph who had tucked her blonde hair more deliberately under her hood and pulled up her mask until her eyes were the only thing showing.

If you figured out her identity too, he was well and truly cooked. Steph as Spoiler would inevitably lead to you discovering Tim as Robin and so on until you pieced together Bruce Wayne as Batman.

Jason cleared his throat, “Robin, can I talk to you for a second?”

Tim followed him into his room, leaving you and Steph to hash out the details with Oracle. Once the door closed behind them, he began, “If you’re going to bitch about this, save your breath, I have better—”

“I want something in return for this.”

He lifted his chin. “I wasn’t aware I owed you a favor. If anything, you owe me for that one time I helped you get a foundation off the ground to—”

“Do you know how to shut your trap and listen for five seconds?”

“When people deserve it.”

Jason resisted the urge to throttle him. “There’s a showcase at the end of the month at the Gotham Gazette for a writing competition. I need you to make sure Bruce is there.”

Tim’s lips puckered. “Why?”

He averted his gaze. “You know why. Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? I can see this blowing up, every pun intended, in your face if she decides to talk Bruce.”

“You think I don’t know that? I know what could happen and how it could all go wrong.” And maybe he wanted it all to go wrong. It would be the push he needed to finally tell you the truth because he was too much of a coward to broach the subject himself.

“But it would mean a lot to her if he was there, even if he isn’t the one who’s... you know. He’s still paying for her technically, so it matters, even if I’m the one she’s writing to.”

“I told you this was stupid.”

He inclined his head. “But?”

Tim sighed. “I’ll make sure Nadine puts it on his calendar.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Tim sniffed, “I think you’re making a mistake, but you’re too whipped to realize it.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

But he was in too deep.

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

A/N: This is the longest chapter I've written for this fic thus far, but I had a lot of personalities to fit into one space. I missed Tim. Glad I could bring him back.

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

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[attyy]

JUST WANTED A SODA!

part 2 to CAUGHT-REDHANDED: but in suna's POV

SUNA'S POV

Shit. There she was. 

I just wanted to get my damn soda after practice.

Same vending machine. Same lemon soda I always saw in her hand. She looked happy as she hummed while putting the coins in the machine. 

Cute. 

God, I should walk away. But I’m done avoiding my feelings. 

Next thing I knew, my legs were moving.  I leaned on the vending machine casually– or at least I hoped it looked casual. “Need some help?” 

She jumped, caught off guard. “It ate my money twice.” And she laughs, awkwardly. 

“Tragic. Step aside. Let me show you how it's done.” I deadpanned. 

I kick the vending machine twice, and her drink falls out. Bending down, I hand it to her, “Here ya go.”

She laughed, “Thanks. Never thought I’d need rescuing with a vending machine.”

“Suna, by the way. Professional vending machine expert,” I said. Her smile widened, “Aran’s teammate..right? I’ve watched some games.”

“Oh, so a fan?” I teased. “Who’s your favorite? Every answer’s acceptable except the Miya twins, literal jail.”

“Oh– uhm, I just got invited by my friends. I’m not really..a fan.” She smiles awkwardly. 

I clutched my chest dramatically, “Ouch, brutal. But fair. I’ll allow it since you're honest.”

An awkward silence settles over us, not bad quiet just..

Shit-now-what quiet.

 “Well, vending machine expert, I owe you one. You gain a free favor from yours truly.”

“Mind if I cash in that favor now?” Okay, might as well go for it.

Curious, she asked, “Oh? Sure, what is it?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling the sweat on my palms. “Your number, just in case you need help with a vending machine, you know who to call.”

Silence. For a second, she just blinked and stood still. And I thought– great. I’m about to die of humiliation. 

 “Since you saved me from getting robbed in broad daylight..sure.” She motioned for my phone, and I wiped my hands like an idiot before handing it over. She typed her number in, giving it back with a little smirk. 

“See ya around, suna,” she waved as she walked off. I stood there like an absolute fool, staring at my phone. She even put a candy emoji next to her damn name.

“Holy shit,” I muttered. “I actually did it.” 

Shit. 

I’m so fucked.

BONUS:

Later, in the group chat:

suna: bro i think i just met my future wife

sumu:: WHAT AHEPPEDN

samu: did this dawg chicken out 

suna: i got her number fuckass

atsu: HOLY SHIT 

aran: he’s him 

aran: i expect payment for my advice 

kita: our advice*