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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 2 days ago

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"Real Man"

Older Au Chapter 3.

THIS IS A MATURE STORY. IT HAS SOME SEXUAL SENCES, IF YOU DONT LIKE DON'T READ. Ok yall ik i said i was gonna post this last night but i hated it so i rewrote it! if it sucks don't say anything pls. sorry if it's repetitive, lmk whose team ur on!!! And what you want to happen next. comments, reblogs, likes and kind asks are always appreciated. If this one random anon keeps sending theses crazy things, i'll have to remove anon asks, which I dont want to do. I love my anons, so pls be nice. Send in asks, I miss yall, I've been sooooo busy with school lately and I havent had time to get on here. THIS IS MY 1ST TIME WRITNG ANYTHING LIKE THIS SO LMK HOW IT ISSSSS

WHY AM I GETTING THE FEWLINF EVERYONE HATES THIS??? IM ABT TO DELEYEB TS NGL 😭

Six months had passed since that night—the night you let Slade’s words sink into your skin like venom and made the choice that changed everything. For better and worse.

You hadn't accepted his offer easily. Not after what happened with Two-Face. That betrayal still sat in your chest like a dull ache, a constant reminder of how easily people could take what they wanted and leave you with nothing. You had sworn not to trust so easily again, not to let yourself fall into another cycle of being used and discarded. So when Slade made his offer, you hesitated.

"You're smarter than this," you had told yourself that night. "You know what happens when you trust the wrong person. You know what men like him want."

And yet, here you were. Living in his world.

Not as a prisoner, not as a puppet, but as something more. The lines were blurred, shifting with every glance, every order he gave that you didn’t question, every moment that stretched too long in the dim glow of your shared space. Because that’s what it was now, shared.

The apartment Slade had set up was far from a safe house. It was huge and spacious, Slade wasn't a cheap man. It felt lived in. Your things mingled with his, your scent lingering in the air. You bought vases and filled them with flowers, you organized the kitchen and bought him real groceries, not just canned food. You hung pictures you developed of you and him. Ones he didn't know you took. You roped him into painting your room a baby blue, a color he swore he hated, yet he still slept in your room every night. It was comical to see such a large man laying in a pastel colored room on your floral bedsheets, the last man you let into your bed was equally large. But we don't talk about him.

Slade cared for you deeply, or at least tolerated you. At first you were always at each others throats, each person throwing a more cutting remark than the other. When your arguements got so bad that you began to ignore him, he brought home women, made sure he heard them moaning through the walls till you snapped and began screaming.

You hated Slade Wilson

But after the first month things began to change, Slade never said anything about it, but you caught the way his eyes would darken when he returned from a mission, his gaze sweeping over you like he needed to confirm you were still here. Like he expected you to disappear.

You leaned against the counter, watching him from the corner of your eye as he cleaned his weapons. The rhythmic motion of his hands, the way he handled each blade with the kind of care most reserved for something fragile, it was almost mesmerizing. Everything he does is.

“You’re staring,” he said, not looking up. God, he's so smug.

You scoffed. "No, you are. I don't stare at creepy old men. In fact, it's usually the opposite."

His lips curled into that knowing smirk, the one that made something tighten in your chest. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

The nickname used to irritate you. Now, you weren’t sure what it did. All you knew was that it made your heart race the way only one person had before. He used to call you sweetheart too.

Slade’s presence in your life was suffocating, an unshakable force that wrapped itself around you, squeezing tighter with every passing day. He was cruel in the way he trained you, brutal in his expectations. If you failed, he had no patience for it. Slade trained you for greatness and he wouldn't tolerate anything less.

“You call that a punch?” he sneered one evening in your early days of training, after you had barely managed to land a hit on him. “Pathetic. I’ve seen senior citizens put up more of a fight,"

Gritting your teeth, you launched at him again, only for him to sidestep effortlessly. A sharp pain bloomed across your ribs as he shoved you down, hard. The thing that you loved and hated most about Slade was that he treated you like an equal. He didn't see you as his younger, fragile, kind-of girlfriend; he saw you as an equal opponent.

“You hesitated,” he said, standing over you. “That hesitation will get you killed.”

You spat blood onto the mat and glared up at him. “Or maybe I just don’t care if I live or die. Nothing is ever really this serious.”

Something flickered in his eye, dark and unreadable, before he crouched beside you. His fingers dug into your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He didn't understand your humor sometimes, considering he's old enough to be your father.

“Oh, but you do, you want to survive. To be great, ” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

He let go of you with a sharp shove and stood. “Get up. We’re not done.”

The tension between you both had only grown over the months. Slade had a way of pressing in, invading your space without ever needing to touch you. Sure you guys fucked almost twice, sometimes three times a week, but there was that small sliver of confusion and hesitation.

Sure, he slept in your bed ever night now, called it "our room," and sure you stayed up waiting when his missions would take too long. Yeah, you would run and jump into his open arms, feeling nothing but content as he kissed your forehead and took you to the bed, it's normal that ya'll didn't even have sex some nights, that you just cuddled.

Sometimes, you swore he was waiting, waiting for you to be the one to close that final inch between you. But you never did. You couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Instead, you fell into a rhythm. Training. Fighting. Learning with him and laughing with him. He pushed you harder than anyone ever had, demanding perfection, never letting you slip back into old habits. He didn’t coddle you like they did. He didn’t pretend you were something delicate. He made you strong.

Most nights, after an exhausting day of training, you would sit on the brown leather couch cuddled up to him with your head on his chest and his arms around you, the dim glow of the television flickering between you. Slade wasn’t much for small talk, you talked enough for the both of you, but the silence between you felt... comfortable, almost warm

“Why did you take me in?” you had asked once, voice barely above a whisper.

He had taken a slow sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving yours. “Because I saw something in you,” he finally answered. “Potential. Something you’re too afraid to admit to yourself.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you wondered if there was truth in his words. You liked that he believed in you, no one had done that before.

Then there were the other moments. The ones that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to acknowledge. The way he stood too close when showing you how to hold a blade properly, his breath warm against your skin. The way his hands lingered too long when correcting your stance. The way his gaze dropped to your lips before he forced himself to look away.

Neither of you ever acknowledged it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to. It's completely normal for your teacher/mentor/enemy to sleep in the same bed as you every night. It'd be weird if you didn't make breakfast and dinner for the two of you. It'd be weird if you didn't know his favorite foods and if he didn't know how to braid your hair. It'd be even weirder if he didn't make you coffee exactly how you like it and help you put away the dishes.

Slade had become an inescapable presence, his control over you extending far beyond training. He knew where you were at all times, had a way of appearing when you least expected it, his eyes always sharp, always knowing. Some nights, when you tried to slip out for air, you’d find him already outside, leaning against a wall as if he’d been waiting for you. He let you do what you wanted, think you were free, but he was always watching you.

If you were singing at a bar, you could count on him to be in the crowd. If you met with Selina at a restaurant you could count on him to drive you home. Slade was always there. Selina thought it was strange, you took comfort in it.

“You really think you can go anywhere without me knowing?” he had mused once, a shadow of amusement in his voice.

It should have bothered you. Maybe it did. But part of you had started to crave it, the way he made you feel like you belonged to him, even if neither of you would ever admit it.

Slade had been… watchful lately. More than usual. He came back late from missions, missions he didn't let you come to, sometimes with a tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. He was hesitant to let you go and preform at bars, sometimes convincing you to just play the songs on your guitar in the living room and run your fingers through his hair as you both laid on the couch.

There were the calls—brief, coded. You were offended, Slade told you almost everything these days but somehow no amount of sweet talk and bedroom eyes could get him to budge this time. And then there were the other things. The subtle shifts in the city’s underworld. More movement in Gotham than usual. The quiet whispers of old ghosts stirring, names you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. Bruce.

You saw it in the way certain streets had too many eyes. As if waiting. As if listening.

And then there was the whisper of something else. Something darker, something clawing at the edge of your awareness. A name that had once sent a thrill through you, now only bringing unease and resentment.

Harvey Dent.

A name you hadn’t spoken in months, yet it clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t shake. A man you couldn't bare to even think of. A drink left for you at a bar you hadn't performed at in weeks, a coat draped over the back of a chair that looked too familiar.

Slade noticed before you did. “You’ve got a ghost,” he murmured one evening, the flicker of a knife between his fingers. “One that doesn’t know how to stay buried.”

You didn’t ask him what he meant. You didn’t have to. You already knew. You just didn't know why. Had he finally seen through Tiffany, now that it was too late?

At first, you didn’t question it. Slade had always been territorial—watchful, overbearing when he wanted to be. He had a way of controlling things without seeming like he was. That was how he worked.

So when you first noticed the shifts, you didn’t react. Your schedule changed, but not because you changed it.

You used to go out when you wanted. Walk the streets when they were quiet, feel the Gotham night press against your skin, the air cold and sharp. Not anymore.

Things began to change this week. Now, every time you thought about leaving, something stopped you.

The fridge was always stocked, eliminating any reason to step outside. Your favorite food. Your favorite drinks. Little things appeared when you needed them; new clothes, supplies, anything that might have made you leave for even a moment. Things you mentioned only in passing, like the new lipstick you wanted or a pair of vintage heels or a new bag.

If you reached for your coat, Slade would speak before you even touched the door. Asking where you were going, trying to be casual.

It was never a command. Never outright control. But the implication was there. And every time you hesitated, he won. If you needed to leave or just wanted to go out, he would come with; a silent yet protective figure always in the shadows.

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that should have been peaceful but wasn’t. The apartment smelled like old wood and gun oil, the faintest trace of smoke lingering from Slade’s cigar earlier. You had just stepped out of the shower, skin still warm from the heat, hair damp as you walked barefoot across the floor in your towel.

Your hand brushed against the pretty golden door knob absentmindedly.

And then you froze. Something was different.

Your fingers curled around the lock, tracing over the new ridges, the reinforced structure. The weight of it felt wrong.

It wasn’t your lock. Not the cute one you insisted on buying at the antique shop that Slade hated. It didn't match the walls.

Your stomach twisted. You turned slowly, your damp hair clinging to your skin as your mind raced. This wasn’t an accident. You hadn’t imagined it. Slade had changed the locks. The thought sent something icy down your spine. Alarm bells blared in your mind.

You tried to shake it off, tried to tell yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was security. Maybe he just wanted better protection.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. Because he didn’t tell you. Because Slade never did anything without a purpose. Because Slade Wilson didn't need a lock to keep people out. And because you hadn’t noticed until now. You took a slow, steady breath and turned toward the living room.

Slade was there, like always, seated in his usual chair by the window, sharpening a knife. The sound of steel against whetstone was rhythmic, deliberate. His posture was relaxed, but you weren’t fooled. His fingers were too steady, his shoulders just a little too still.

He was waiting. Watching. Like he had already predicted this moment, like he was ready for an argeument. You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, heart pounding too fast, not caring if you were in a towel.

"Planning on keeping me in a cage?" you muttered.

Slade didn’t pause. Didn’t even look up. “Planning on keeping you alive.” The words were so smooth, so easy, that your stomach turned.

Your breath caught. Because he wasn’t hiding it. He wasn't denying it. Not anymore. This wasn’t a mistake. This was intentional.

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow in your throat. “Right. Because I’m just so incapable of keeping myself safe. Even after all the training we've done. Even with my literal super-human abilities.”

Slade finally looked up. His eye locked onto yours.

There was no humor in his gaze. No smirk, like he usually had on while teasing. Just that slow, assessing stare that made your pulse stutter.

"If I thought you were capable of that," he murmured, voice quiet, too quiet, "we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Your chest tightened. Because the way he said it sent something sinking into the pit of your stomach. This wasn’t just about protecting you. This was about making sure you never left.

Two days later, you decided to test it. Just to see what would happen. Slade had stepped out—or so he wanted you to believe. The moment you heard the door shut behind him, you moved.

Your fingers curled around the knob.

Turned it— but a large, scared hand beat you two it

"Going somewhere?"

Your entire body locked up. You gulped and licked your suddenly dry lips, he had you cornered with one hand on the knob and the other caging you in as he towered over you. His voice was smooth, calm—too calm. You turned slowly, pulse thrumming in your throat. Slade stood right behind you.

The door was still closed.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard him come back. Hadn’t even realized he was there. So much for super hearing. Nothing worked on Slade Wilson. You kept your expression neutral. Didn’t let him see the panic creeping up your throat.

"Didn’t realize I had a curfew," you muttered with an uneasy grin, trying to start your usual banter. Slade didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. Just watched you.

“You don’t.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. But he didn’t move. Didn’t step aside. Didn’t let you leave. The silence stretched too long.

Finally, you forced a smile, tilting your head. “Then I’ll be back in an hour.” Nothing changed in his expression. But you could feel the weight of his stare. Then he tilted his head, eye dark and calculating.

“It's not safe out there anymore. Not for you.”

You blinked. Something in his tone shifted.Not amusement. Not control. Something else. Something darker. Like he was waiting for you to figure it out.

Your stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t even move.

Just let the question hang in the air, stretching the silence tight between you. And that’s when it hit you.

He wasn’t stopping you because he was afraid you’d leave.

He was stopping you because something else was waiting outside.

Something he wasn’t telling you about.

Your mouth went dry. Slade finally let out a slow, amused breath, pushing off the wall.

And then—

He stepped aside. A challenge. Daring you to open the door. You hesitated. And that was all it took.

The moment you hesitated, you lost. Slade smirked, shaking his head like he had already predicted every move you would make. "Let's get to bed." He rasped out, looking at you with dark, seductive eyes.

And then he turned, walking past you like the conversation was over. Because it was. Because he knew you wouldn’t leave now.

The next morning, the locks changed again. The windows were reinforced. Your pretty pink curtains replaced with black shutters. Your phone stopped working. You couldn't call Selina. Every excuse to leave was removed before you could even think about it. You tried not to panic. Tried not to question it.

But Slade was closing the walls in. And you weren’t sure if it was to keep someone out—

Or to keep you in.

The first time, you thought it was a coincidence.

You had slipped into a bar down the street, needing to breathe, needing something normal.

The moment you stepped in, your stomach turned. Something familiar. Cologne. Not just any cologne. Expensive. Sharply tailored. The scent of whiskey and authority.

You froze.

Your mind screamed at you. It’s just someone else wearing it. It’s just your imagination. And then you saw it. A glass at the bar. Untouched. Neat. No ice. A double pour. your breath hitched.

Harvey’s drink.

It wasn’t until you came home that you truly realized. Because that’s when you saw the rose.

A single red rose on the kitchen counter.

Waiting for you. Your entire body went cold. It wasn’t from Slade. It couldn’t be from Slade. Slade would never bring you roses, he wasn't a gentleman. And he knew you liked hydrangeas and peonies now.

You turned slowly and nearly threw up.

Slade was already standing there. Watching. Waiting. His jaw was tight. His fingers twitched at his side. He didn’t say anything. And that’s when you knew,

He had seen this coming.

“Where did that come from?” you asked, voice thin. Why was he doing this? Was shattering your heart not enough? Did he want to ruin things with you and Slade?

Slade didn’t answer. Instead, he walked forward, plucked the rose from the counter, and rolled it between his fingers. Slowly. Deliberately. Then, he crushed it.

Your stomach dropped. The petals crumbled to the floor. His voice was dangerously calm. "You tell me, sweetheart."

For the rest of the night, he didn’t let you out of his sight. Not directly holding you hostage, but you felt it. The way he lingered in doorways. The way his hand ghosted too close when you passed him.

Like he was waiting. Waiting for you to ask. Waiting for you to figure it out. Waiting for Harvey to stop playing games and make a real move.

You weren’t sure when it had happened; when you had stopped keeping track of time, stopped caring about the difference between one night and the next. Slade made sure you had no reason to count the days. He made sure you had no reason to want anything. You woke up every morning in his arms and went to bed satisfied and well loved. It wasn’t a prison but it wasn’t freedom either. It was something in between. A limbo of his design. A small slice of heaven in hell.

You were happy. But something was off, Slade was being more paranoid and he got less subtle about it each day.

You weren’t trapped, not physically. Slade let you leave the apartment. You weren’t chained to the walls, weren’t locked in a room. He took you out on missions, let you get your hands dirty alongside him, let you breathe in the crisp Gotham air under the cover of night. In some ways, those nights were the only times you felt alive, other than when you were with Slade. The weight of a blade in your hand, the burn in your muscles from the chase, the sharp adrenaline rush of the fight, of using your powers on someone they affected; it reminded you that you still existed outside of this quiet game he played with you. Because that’s what it was. A game.

Slade never said it outright, never told you he was keeping you on a leash, but you could feel it tightening with every passing week. At first, it was small things. The way he subtly redirected missions away from Gotham’s city center, keeping you to the outskirts, where the shadows were deeper and the chances of running into familiar faces were slimmer. The way he always made sure you stayed close during a job, always just within arm’s reach. It wasn’t just protection. You knew better than that. It was control. He was testing you, waiting to see if you would try to slip away, if you would give him a reason to remind you just how easily he could pull you back.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the real test wasn’t in the field. It was what happened after.

After the job was done, after the adrenaline had settled into exhaustion, after the long, banter filled walk back to wherever Slade had decided to keep you that night. It was in the way he never let you wander too far. The way his hand would hover at the small of your back without quite touching, guiding you down the streets like he was the one who decided where you went. It was in the way he never left you alone for too long.

At first, you told yourself it was coincidence. Slade was always working, always had something that needed his attention. But then you started to notice the patterns. You ate together, you slept together, trained together, hell; you even showered together. You were never alone for more than a few hours. If he had business elsewhere, you were given something to occupy your time—training, surveillance, a task that kept you exactly where he wanted you.

You tested it once again, just to see what would happen. After he had left for what you thought was a routine meeting, you had grabbed your coat and made your way to the door. You weren’t even thinking about leaving him, not really. You just wanted to see if you could. If there was still a part of you that could step outside without feeling the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your fingers had just curled around the doorknob when you heard his voice. Low. Even. Inevitable.

“Going somewhere?”

You were getting de ja vu. This happened last time too. You had swallowed hard, pulse spiking in your throat as you turned. He was standing right behind you.

You hadn’t heard the door open. Hadn’t heard his footsteps. He was just there, watching, waiting. The worst part was that he wasn’t even angry. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you, wasn’t raising his voice or blocking your way. He didn’t have to.

Slade had simply leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eye scanning you with that sharp, unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. “Didn’t realize I needed permission,” you had said, forcing your voice to stay steady. You wouldn't let him control everything, not another man would be in charge of your life.

“You don’t.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he had already solved. “Just wondering if you really think it’s safe out there.”

Not this odd shit again.

That made you pause. The way he said it. Not like a threat. Not like he was trying to scare you into staying. He said it the same way as last time. Like he already knew something you didn’t.

Your grip on the doorknob tightened. “What are you talking about? You said this last time.”

Slade didn’t answer right away. He just let the silence stretch, let you feel the weight of your own hesitation. Then, slowly, he took a step back. Another challenge.

“If you want to go,” he said, gesturing toward the door, “go.”

Your breath caught. You should have. You should have walked out.

But you didn’t.

Because you knew that if you did, if you stepped outside now, you wouldn’t just be walking into Gotham. You would be walking into something else. Something waiting.

Slade knew it. And now, so did you.

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the door. Slade huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head like you had just proven his point. Then, without another word, he walked past you and disappeared into the other room. That was the moment you knew, whatever was waiting for you out there was worse than what was waiting inside. You just didn’t know what it was yet.

You found out a week later. A part of it, at least.

The envelope was waiting for you when you returned from a job with Slade, slipped under the apartment door like a whisper of something you had tried to forget. You had bent down, fingers hesitating just for a second before picking it up. The paper was thick, expensive. No return address. No markings. But you didn’t have to open it to know who it was from. The sharp smell of cologne gave it away.

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in the back of your throat as you tore it open, your hands gripping the edges a little too tightly. The letter inside was simple. Only four words.

You won't forget me.

Your breath hitched. Your hands trembled. Because the worst part was, he was right. No matter how much Slade consumed you, or your occasional fantasy about Clark; he also stayed on your mind

You barely had time to process it before you heard the apartment door shut behind you. Your fingers snapped the letter closed, chest tightening, but it was too late.

Slade had already seen.

His expression didn’t change, but you could feel it. The shift in the air. The way his shoulders set just a little too still, the way his single eye flickered from your face to the envelope with something dark and unreadable. He stepped forward, not rushing, just closing the distance between you with the kind of inevitability that made your breath come short.

You turned, but before you could move, his hand shot out. Not rough, not gentle like usual, just firm. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you in place.

“Let go,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t.

Instead, he reached for the letter.

You pulled back.

Slade’s grip tightened. “Let me see,” he said, his voice low, controlled. He wasn't used to you denying him these days, not when you loved him.

Your stomach clenched. You didn’t let go, but it didn’t matter. Because Slade never asked twice.

With one sharp tug, he tore the letter from your grasp, unfolding it with a lazy flick of his wrist. You watched as his eye scanned the words, his jaw tensing, his fingers tightening around the paper just slightly.

Then, finally, a quiet chuckle. A dark, amused sound. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Your breath hitched. Slade looked at you now. Expression unreadable.

“Do you miss him?” Your heart stopped. You denied it, but you could see in Slade's eyes that he didn't believe you. In the way he turned away from you that night. You didn't blame him, you didn't even believe yourself.

Harvey always knew how to play the long game.

Small things began to shift in your life and you knew who was behind it. The song on the radio. A scarf. A photo photo. They were never coincidences, he didn’t believe in coincidence. The man was calculated, meticulous in his pursuits. When he wanted something, he played patient, steady, unyielding, watching from the shadows, striking when you least expected it.

Slade was the same way, but Slade never needed patience. Slade took what he wanted. Harvey waited for it to come back to him.

The jazz playing in the bar was nothing, just white noise in the background while you sat beside Slade, nursing your drink, your head still fogged from the last mission. You weren’t thinking of anything other than how good it felt to finally sit still.

Then, days later, the scarf appeared. Neatly folded on the couch, like a gift wrapped in silence, waiting for you to pick it up. You hadn’t touched it at first, just stood there, staring at it, fingers twitching at your sides. It was a trick of the mind, an old memory manifesting in a way that didn’t make sense.

Except it wasn’t.

He had been here. Or close enough to touch. You should have told Slade. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And then, the photo. A photo Selina took of you and him dancing at the Pink Pony Club. It smelled like him too.

That was what shattered the illusion of security, the idea that you had control over this. The moment you saw it, you knew.

Harvey had always been a sentimentalist, clinging to memories long past, treasuring things most people would discard.

You, once upon a time, had been one of those things. And now? You weren’t sure. You weren't sure what he wanted, especially since he had Tiffany. You had placed the photo down carefully, afraid to crumple it, afraid to acknowledge what it meant.

You had kept your movements neutral, your breath steady, but Slade had been watching. His presence in the other room was a solid weight pressing into your chest. The shuffle of files, the slow deliberate sound of metal being set down, he was waiting.

He had noticed. Of course, he had. Slade noticed everything. And yet, he didn’t say a word.

You lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, feeling Slade’s presence next to you like a silent storm waiting to break. He wasn’t asking. He was waiting for you to give yourself away. To tell him the truth, to trust him like he trusted you.

Slade had been watching you too closely, keeping his invisible leash tight without ever pulling. That was the way he worked, he let you think you had freedom while keeping you within his reach. If you had tried to leave through the door, he would have known.

So, you didn’t.

You waited, feigned sleep, forced your breathing into something slow, even, something convincing. You heard him move in the other room, heard the creak of his chair, the slow inhale of a cigar.

You moved the moment he shifted. Window, not the door. Silent steps. A fire escape that groaned beneath your weight. By the time Slade glanced back toward the couch, you were already gone.

Harvey knew you would come.

You knew that from the moment you stepped onto the rooftop, the Gotham skyline stretched out behind him like a kingdom.

He turned before you could say anything, a slow, easy movement, his face shadowed beneath the dim glow of the streetlights. And then, he smiled. Not a smirk. Not the sharp, dangerous grin you had been expecting. It was something softer. Something more desperate. Like a man in the desert coming across a well.

“Took you long enough, didn't think you got my message. I started thinking that maybe the note didn't reach you.” he murmured. The message he left in the women's bathroom at a bar you and Slade frequented.

Your throat felt tight. You felt hurt all over again. Like someone reopened the wound of his betrayal. Like the same broken girl Slade took in six months ago. You came here for closure. So that it wouldn't hurt when you said his name or sang the songs you wrote for him. “How did you find me?”

What did he want? To torture you? Rub salt in your wounds?

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I never lost you.”

Only Slade called you that now. The words made your stomach twist, a cold knot settling in your chest. You should have walked away then. But you didn’t. Because you had to know.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you haunting me? Not letting me move on?” Your voice shook as you said it. This conversation was long overdue.

Harvey’s fingers gripped the railing, his knuckles white. “Because I need you to listen to me. Just once. Just this once. Hear me out.”

Your heart hammered. Hear him out? He could've started with an apology.

“You think I’ll forgive you?” you spat. You would, because when you looked at him, you still felt the same warmth you did all those months ago; only this time it was mixed with resentment and longing.

He flinched. And for the first time, you saw it—the raw, desperate emotion that he had always hidden behind sharp words and confident grins. The mask cracked, just for a second.

His voice turned rough, unsteady. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know that. But I need you to hear me out.”

You shook your head, stepping back, but he reached out—not touching, not yet, but close.

“You don’t know what’s happening,” he continued, his voice dropping into something urgent, pleading. “Your family—Tim, Dick, all of them—they’re figuring it out. They’re finding out the truth about Tiffany. They'll realize what she's doing, like I did.They'll know soon, maybe not today or tomorrow; but soon. They'll realize she's been using her powers on them like she did to me.”

Your breath came too short. No. This was not happening. Not when you were finally happy again. Not when you think you've fallen in love with Slade.

“No,” you whispered.

Your vision blurred. It was happening. Everything you had tried to scream about for years, everything they had ignored, it was going to come to light. Harvey’s fingers brushed your wrist.

Soft. Careful. Like he was trying not to scare you away.

“And when they realize what they did to you,” he murmured, “they’re going to come running. Crawling back like I am.”

Your stomach twisted.

“They’re going to act like they care,” he continued, voice soft, insidious. “Like they’re sorry. But they’re not. Not like I am. You know that, don’t you?”

Your lips parted. You hated how much sense it made. Hated how deep the doubt had already burrowed into your skin. Hated how genuine and honest he was being, you could sense it. Harvey tilted his head.

And then, voice lower, almost fragile he said, “You don’t have to go back to them.”

Your stomach dropped. You stepped back. “I’m not going back,” you said, voice shaking. Never.

Harvey swallowed hard. And for a moment, you thought he might break, that the weight of what he had done, what he had lost, might finally crush him. But then, he looked at you.

And you saw it, the shift. The danger. Not Two-Face. Not the cold, calculated criminal.

Just Harvey Dent. The man who never let go. “You think you’re free?” he murmured.

The words sent a chill down your spine. Harvey smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “You think he just let you leave?”

Your chest tightened. You tried not to show the flicker of doubt, the small crack in your resolve. But Harvey saw it.

And then, voice so soft, so dangerous—“He’s not going to let you go either. He'll keep you locked up. I won't.”

You should have never gone to him.

You had known it was a mistake the second you saw him standing there, leaning against the rooftop railing, the glow of Gotham’s skyline making him look almost human.

But you had gone anyway. Because Harvey had always been a mistake you kept making.

You clenched your fists, how dare he talk about Slade? What right did he have to tell you who to trust. "Yeah and I'm gonna take advice from you. That's rich."

He softened immediately, his regret and remorse so obvious; yet he refused to apologize. You wanted to hit him, hurt him like he hurt you; yet when he stood in front of you in the moonlight, your treacherous heart still beat for him. Your heart didn't want to hurt the man who showed you what love is. The man who picked up the shattered pieces your family and Clark left and rearranged them beautifully. It didn't care that he broke them again; he could fix it.

“I made a mistake. I paid for it, I know the truth now.” He said steadily stepping closer, sensing your reluctance.

Your pulse pounded. “What do you want from me?” You were here for answers, not to rekindle an old flame. Not when you were starting one.

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Nothing from you. ”

The words hit you too hard. You understood what he was implying, what he wanted. You knew he would come crawling back someday, you just didn't expect it so soon

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Why?”

His smile faltered. His hands curled around the railing, gripping it like he needed something solid to hold on to.

"You know why. But that's not what i called you for. I called you to warn you about your family and Tiffany,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher. More desperate. “I can throw them off for a little while, lead them off track and make sure they don't know the truth. If that's what you want. But once they know the truth, they won't leave you alone. Certainly not with him.”

You hated the way your chest tightened with affection at his consideration. You hated that you were here. You hated that he still had a hold on you. You hated how he talked about Slade. You hated hearing him say Tiffany's name, it brought back so much hurt and hatred.

“I don't care about them Keep them away for as long as you want. You know I'm not here to hear about them or your whore.” you said viciously, your eyes shining and your teeth sharpening.

Slade would be proud.

Harvey didn't react to your fangs, he wasn't afraid of you. He came closer and grasped your hand, his eyes so heartbroken that it gave you satisfaction, only for a minute.

His voice cracked slightly. “Nothing I do or say can make up for what I did.” His jaw tightened. “I know that.”

You should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because Harvey’s voice dropped lower, his words curling around you like a trap you should have seen coming. “But I need you to know something,” he whispered.

You swallowed hard. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, watching your reaction. “She wanted to be you, she tried so hard.”

Your breath hitched. You knew this. But hearing Harvey say it made you feel so much better.

Harvey’s voice was soft, almost reverent. “But she never could.”

Your stomach dropped. Why did this have to happen now? Why now when you finally forgot about him?

“She dressed like you,” he continued. “Talked like you. Watched the way you moved. The way you laughed.” His voice hardened. “The way you loved.”

You shook your head, backing away. You couldn't take this anymore. You wanted to run back into Slade's arms, where nothing could touch you. “Shut up.”

Harvey didn’t.

“She wanted to take everything from you.” His expression twisted. “And maybe, if I had been a different man, I would have let her.”

Your skin crawled at the thought. Harvey let out a breathless laugh, bitter and sharp. “But I couldn’t. I had to go digging, looking for clues.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Because she wasn’t you. No matter how hard she tried to be. No matter how much she played with my mind, she could never replace you.”

You hated him.

You hated that you believed him.

You hated how you still loved him.

Harvey exhaled sharply, tilting his head, watching you with something frighteningly raw. “Every time she touched me, every time she tried to take something that wasn’t hers—” his voice dropped into something dangerous, low and dark and broken— “I was thinking of you.”

Your breathing came too fast.

Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her,” he whispered, “I wanted it to be you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Stop. I don't care.” Lies.

“She wasn’t you,” he repeated, voice almost pleading. “She never could be.”

Your throat closed. Your eyes watered and your teeth burned with unshed venom just thinking of his betrayal. Why was this happening.

Harvey’s fingers ghosted over your wrist. Not touching, not quite.

“I never wanted her, not really” he murmured. “Not once.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. This was all you wanted to hear, all you wished for for so long. So why did you feel trapped. Harvey’s voice dropped even lower. He moved even closer

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“If you don’t care,” he whispered, eyes burning, “why are you still here? Why do you want answers so bad? Why do you still look at me like that?”

You shouldn’t have come.

But you hadn’t been able to help yourself.

Because Harvey always knew what to say, how to linger in your mind like an open wound that refused to heal.

And now here you were, standing under the dim glow of the rooftop’s city lights, your eyes watering, the weight of his gaze pressing into you, sinking into your bones like something familiar, something dangerous.

You forced yourself to keep your stance steady, your pulse even. “You don’t get to ask me those questions.”

Harvey let out a breath, almost a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His hands curled around the railing as he moved away from you again, gripping the cold metal like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for you.

“Do you know how many times I told myself you were gone? That I lost you, ” His voice was steady now, but there was an edge to it—something dangerous. “How many times I tried to let you go, to let you move on?”

Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if it was anger or something else, something more dangerous. “I didn’t ask you to wait for me. I didn't want you to regret your choice. I didn't want anything but happiness for you. No matter how much you hurt me.”

Harvey’s fingers twitched.

“No.” His lips pressed together in a thin line, he knew the truth, that you always wished the best for him. “No, you didn’t.”

The wind curled between you, cold and sharp, carrying the weight of everything unsaid. You should have turned away. Should have walked back the way you came.

But then Harvey laughed, a bitter, broken sound.

“She used her little snake charm but somehow,” he continued, “after a week I was thinking of you. I never loved her. Couldn't even bring myself to like her, honestly.”

Your stomach dropped. It was a gut punch, sharp and unforgiving. He saw it—the flicker of emotion in your face, the tightening of your jaw, the way your breathing caught for just a second too long.

And Harvey, Two-Face, the man who never let go, moved forward, voice soft, eyes burning.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I never stopped loving you”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “Shut up.”

He ignored you. Again.

“I love you so much,” he said, voice low. “You love me too or you wouldn't be here.”

“I said shut up.” He was right, he always is.

Harvey smirked, but there was nothing victorious in it. It was almost self-loathing.

“I never loved her,” he whispered again. He was making sure you knew.

“She wanted me to,” he continued. “She wanted to take everything from you.” His jaw tightened. “And maybe, if you had been a different woman, I would have let her.”

The thought of it made your skin crawl.

Harvey, Tiffany. Together. The ultimate betrayal.

“But I couldn’t.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because she wasn’t you.”

He kept repeating it, trying to speak his remorse into your heart directly. You hated how much it affected you. Hated how your chest ached, how your mind burned with the thought of what could have been. You shouldn’t care. But you did. And Harvey knew it.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, forcing steel into your voice. “You used her, just like she used you. You wanted to spy on Bruce and I wouldn't do it.”

Harvey let out a sharp breath. “Yeah.” His eyes met yours. Unflinching. “I did.”

There was no shame in his voice. Just cold, simple truth. No regret anymore. He didn't regret using her, he regretted hurting you.

“But it wasn’t revenge, sweetheart,” he murmured, his Gotham accent slipping in the angrier he got. “It was survival. She had me under her little spell at first; when that stopped working, her little dream team made sure I never stepped outta line. Never came crawling back to you, never told anyone the truth. But I'm done with them now.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her, every time I played along, I was thinking of you.” His voice dipped, lower, darker. More desperate. “Every time I called her by her name, I wanted to say yours.”

Your breathing came too fast. This wasn’t fair. Harvey was not supposed to be able to do this to you. Not anymore. He was supposed to be dead to you. He had killed himself in your mind the day he let himself be used, the day he betrayed you.

And yet—

Yet.

You couldn’t move.

Because deep down, a part of you knew—you had thought of him, too. When you weren't with Slade, Harvey consumed your thoughts.

Your stomach twisted as he stepped closer again. “You’re smart, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You always were. Choose carefully.”

You swallowed hard. This wasn't about your family anymore. This was about him and Slade.

“You don’t have to go back to them.” He repeated himself again trying to convince you. His words settled in your bones, heavy, unshakable.

You clenched your jaw again. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Harvey’s eyes flickered, something dark and pleased curling at the edges. And then, voice low, almost dangerous, “Then why are you still with him?”

Your breath hitched. Slade. Your body went rigid.

Harvey took another step closer. Your noses almost touched and you nearly threw yourself into his arms.

“You think he's better than me?”

Your chest tightened. Doubt crept in. You had been so careful. So quiet. Hadn’t you? Harvey saw it. And he smiled.

A slow, knowing smirk. “He’s not going to let you go, he won't give you a choice. I don't blame the man, if I hadn't fucked everything up; I wouldn't let you go either.”

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you all at once, suffocating, crushing. You hadn’t been careful. You had been playing into Slade’s hands all along.

Because Slade always knew. And if he hadn’t stopped you?

That meant he was letting you dig your own grave. A shiver ran through you.

The moment Harvey’s voice dipped, the second his fingers ghosted over your wrist like a lover’s touch—you should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because part of you needed to hear him say it. Needed to hear him tell you what you already knew.

That he still wanted you. That he never stopped. That you were never meant to be replaced. And it felt amazing to hear the regret in his voice and see the pure longing in his eyes.

The wind curled between you, cold and biting, but Harvey’s presence was stiflingly warm. He was watching you the way he always had; like you belonged to him, like the months between you hadn’t changed a thing. And for the first time all night, you let yourself look at him.

Really look at him.

The scars on the left side of his face had deepened, his two-toned gaze more piercing than before. The weight he carried in his shoulders was heavier, more defined. He was still Harvey, but he wasn’t just Harvey anymore. He had become something darker, something rough around the edges, something broken in a way that made you feel like a piece of you had broken along with him.

You swallowed. “I have to go.” Before you did something you couldn't take back.

Harvey exhaled, slow and deliberate. He nodded, but he didn’t move. He didn’t stop you. But he wasn’t letting you go, either.

“You’re going back to him.” It wasn’t a question. A statement, like he knew it was coming

Your pulse stuttered. “It’s not like that and you know it.” You still felt the need to defend yourself, even though you knew you didn't owe him an explanation.

You still loved him, that much was clear.

Harvey let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Sure it isn’t.”

You took a step back. He didn’t reach for you, didn’t say anything to stop you, but his presence curled around you like a shadow, wrapping itself around your spine, keeping you anchored in place. And then his voice dropped. Low. Certain.

“I’m letting you walk away. But I'm not letting you go. Not when we still love each other.”

Your throat tightened. He wasn’t chasing you. Not yet. But you felt it. The promise in his voice. The inevitability. You didn’t respond.

You didn't deny that you still loved him, it was like a child insisting they didn't eat cookies when they have crumbs all over them.

You just turned and forced yourself to walk away.

The apartment was silent when you returned. Slade was waiting, seated in his chair, drink in hand, legs spread, glaring at the walls. He didn’t turn when you entered. Didn’t move when you stepped further inside, carefully shutting the door behind you. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You slipped off your shoes, moving slowly, watching him, waiting. Nothing. No reaction. Just that unshakable stillness. The kind that had always been more dangerous than his anger.

You took a steadying breath. If you didn't speak first, he wouldn't speak at all. “Slade—”

“I knew you’d come back.”

His voice cut through the room, sharp and even. Your fingers curled at your sides. “Of course I came back.”

Now, he looked at you. Finally. And when he did, it felt like a blow. That single eye, cold and assessing, swept over you, taking in every detail, every movement, every breath you tried to keep steady. Then, his lips curved. Slow. Controlled.

“Did he tell you what you wanted to hear? Make you want to run into his loving arms again?”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t let it show. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Slade exhaled through his nose, the faintest huff of amusement. “Don’t insult me.”

Your jaw tightened. Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. You weren’t sure if you were waiting for him to snap, or if he was waiting for you to confess. Then, finally—Slade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, voice lowering into something dangerous.

“Tell me something,” he said lowly.

You didn’t move. “What?”

Slade tilted his head, watching you like he was already playing out the end of this game. “Did you hesitate?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You swallowed. You could lie. You could tell him what he wanted to hear. But it wouldn’t matter. Slade always knew. And that was the worst part.

Slade was quiet for too long. Then—he sighed. Tired. Expectant. And that was worse than anger. You hated when he treated you like this, so indifferent. You liked his anger better, at least then you could get a reaction out of him.

“Take off your coat,” he said. You hesitated. Slade’s expression didn’t shift. “Now.”

Slowly, carefully, you did as he asked, slipping the fabric from your shoulders, letting it drop onto the chair beside you. Slade’s eye flickered toward it. Then, back to you.

You weren’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe he was looking for something Harvey left behind. Something you didn’t even realize you had carried home with you.

Then, after a long pause—Slade smirked. And it wasn’t kind like the ones you've grown accustomed to.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?”

You stiffened. “Realize what?”

Slade leaned back again, completely relaxed. Like he had already won. “You'll know soon.”

Your breath caught. Where was he going with this? You hated when he spoke like some ancient being and he knew that. He was gonna be insufferable these next few days; he always is when you do something he doesn't like.

“Doesn’t matter where you go,” he continued, his voice so damn certain. His smirk widened, mocking. “You’ll always come back to me.”

Your chest tightened. You hated him. Because he was right. He knew you hated it, too.

You lay awake that night. Not because you couldn’t sleep. Not because Slade was in the other room, making you sleep alone for the first time in months, still awake, waiting, watching, knowing.

But because you couldn’t shake the way Harvey had looked at you before you left. Not angry. Not resentful. Just patient and remorseful. Like he already knew something you didn't.

Slade never brought it up again. Not directly. You weren’t sure if that was worse. You weren't sure if you wanted him to scream at you and demand you never see Harvey Dent again. You would rather anger than the silent treatment.

He didn’t demand answers. He didn’t press the issue. He simply carried on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t watched you walk through the door smelling like another man’s presence.

That should have been a relief. But it wasn’t. Because Slade didn’t let things go. He let them fester.

It was in the way he touched you now, more deliberate, more possessive. The way his hands lingered a little too long on your waist when he passed you in the kitchen, the way his fingers grazed your wrist, as if reminding you that you were still there, still his.

It was in the way he watched you. He had always been observant, but now it was different. Sharper. He wasn’t just looking at you, he was reading you.

Every twitch of your fingers. Every slight shift in your breathing. Every time you looked over your shoulder without realizing it. You had brought something back from that rooftop, and Slade knew it.

And still, he said nothing. Instead, he tightened his hold.

It was late. The apartment was quiet, but neither of you were asleep. Your back pressed into the cool sheets, heartbeat steady but too aware of the man beside you. It'd been three days since Harvey and Slade was finally sleeping next to you again, but you knew he wasn't truly letting things go.

Slade’s fingers traced slow circles against your wrist, his grip loose but present. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he murmured.

You exhaled, shifting slightly beneath his hold. “And you have?”

A quiet chuckle. “I sleep when I need to.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light of the bedroom. “And when do you need to?” You missed teasing him.

Slade’s smirk was lazy, knowing. “Whenever you’re not around to keep me entertained.”

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t let you pull away. His grip tightened, just enough to remind you he was there.

“You think too much,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Keeps you restless.”

“Maybe I like thinking,” you shot back booping his nose. You lived to annoy him, to push his buttons in a way only you could get away with.

Slade hummed, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow, still watching you. His fingers trailed down your arm, you would've though he was trying to start something if his movements weren't so slow and calculated.

“What are you thinking about now?” He said reeling you into his trap, his eyes hard. You hated when he tried to trap you. Your pulse skipped. Nothing you said would be the right answer.

Slade’s lips quirked up slightly, but there was something in his expression—something darker, something expectant.

“You can say it,” he mused. “Say his name.”

You were tempted to do it, moan Harvey's name just to piss him off, but that was a line even you knew not to cross. You rolled your eyes, "God, just let it go Slade. It wasn't important."

Why couldn't he just let this go? Slade smirked, mocking. “That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t break his gaze. Didn’t look away. Because he knew. He always knew. Nothing goes over Slade Wilson's head.

The next morning, you woke up to a message. Not a text. Not a voicemail. A gift.

The small wooden box sat on the kitchen counter, neat, precise. Like it had been waiting for you. Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t heard anyone come in. You hadn’t even felt him. But Harvey had been here. You swallowed, fingers brushing over the lid before carefully lifting it open.

Inside was a single playing card.

The Two of Hearts.

And beneath it—folded carefully, as if it was meant to be unwrapped like some kind of sentimental treasure—was the same scarf he had left before.

Except this time, there was something else. Perfume. Your perfume. It smelled like you and him. Like Harvey had held onto it. Like he had kept it close. Your stomach twisted.

Harvey had been here. And you hadn’t even noticed.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the box, breath coming a little too sharp, too shallow. The walls of the apartment felt smaller. You didn’t hear Slade approach, but you felt him before he spoke.

His voice was smooth, dangerous. “Something I should know about?”

You forced yourself to breathe. “No.”

Slade leaned against the counter, eyeing the box like he already knew exactly who it was from. And then—he laughed. A quiet, amused sound, as if this was a game he had already won. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” he said, in the same tone some used when regretting not buying a book before it sold out.

Your stomach dropped. Slade tilted his head, eye still locked on you. “But you wouldn’t have liked that, would you?”

You said nothing.

Slade smirked, shaking his head. “Soft spot for old flames.” He reached out, fingers brushing your wrist. “That’s your problem.”

You clenched your jaw, jerking your arm away. “And what’s yours?”

Slade’s gaze darkened. “I don’t have problems.”

You let out a breathless, humorless laugh. Always with the tough guy persona, honestly it must be tiring always acting untouchable. “Right. Sorry, I forgot. Because you don’t feel anything.”

Slade didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, unreadable. His hand reached for your jaw, firm, demanding. His thumb traced your cheek, slow, deliberate. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“I feel plenty.” You swallowed. Slade smirked. “You just don’t like what I feel.”

You stepped back before you could do something stupid. Something that would make you forget about the box on the counter, the scent of Harvey still lingering in the air. Something that would make you forget that you weren’t sure who you were more afraid of losing.

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Harvey was right. They were going to find out the full truth soon. And when they did, they would come for you.

Now, a week after your meeting with him, your phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Message after message, call after call, each one from Tim Drake-Wayne. All asking you questions about Tiffany, about yourself. About where you were.

Your breath caught in your throat as you scrolled through the texts, hands shaking, stomach twisting itself into knots so tight you thought you might be sick. Of course Tim was the first to figure out something was wrong. He was about five years too late though.

Tim: We need to talk. Please answer. I have questions. About Tiffany..

You could barely breathe. He wanted to investigate, to look deep into Tiffany. Now?

Now, after years of pushing you aside, after ignoring every cry for help, now he wanted to take your warnings seriously.

Your eyes burned, fingers tightening around the phone, your mind screaming at you to respond, to finally say all the things you’d held in your chest for too long.

But you didn’t. Instead, you turned the phone off. You shoved it under the pillow, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to push away the tears, trying to ignore the way your chest ached with something ugly and desperate.

The moment you walked out of the bedroom, you knew he had seen.

Slade was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, gaze heavy with something unreadable. The phone was still buzzing beneath the pillow in the other room, and somehow, you knew he had heard it.

He had been waiting for this. You swallowed, standing stiffly near the doorway, trying to pretend like everything was fine. Slade didn’t say anything at first. He just watched.

“Took him long enough,” he mused, his voice casual, controlled.

You rolled your eyes. He's been bitchy ever since the whole Harvey thing.

Slade’s eye flickered to your hands, still clenched at your sides. “And let me guess—you ignored him.”

You hated how easily he could see through you. You glared at him, jaw tight. “None of your business.”

Slade chuckled, shaking his head, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between you in slow, measured steps.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was lower now, smoother, curling around your spine like a threat disguised as affection. “Everything about you is my business.”

You tensed. Slade reached up, tracing a gloved finger along your cheek, tilting your chin up slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“He’ll keep calling,” he murmured. “He’ll keep begging. He'll figure it out and tell the rest of the little squad and they'll all come running back. Just like your dear old Dent. ” His lips curled into something mocking. “That’s what they do, isn’t it? Make mistakes because they know you'll forgive them?"

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Not to hurt you, just enough to remind you who was in control.

His thumb brushed over your lips, slow, deliberate. “What are you gonna do?”

Your breath hitched. Slade leaned in slightly, voice dropping even lower. Dangerous. “Do you want Tim to tell the others? Want your family back? Want him back? Even after he fucked your sister while you were lying sick in your bed?”

Your throat tightened. He was toying with you. Mocking you, trying to hurt you. Making you say it. And you didn’t want to say it. Because you didn’t know. Your family had been your world.For so long, all you wanted was to be seen.

To be loved.

To be something more than just a ghost standing in the background, watching them fawn over someone who had stolen everything from you. And Harvey gave that to you, before he betrayed you.

And now, he was sorry. Soon, they would all know the truth and be sorry.

The emotions clawed at your throat.

You wanted to scream at Tim. Tell him it was too late. Tell them that he could never fix this. No amount of investigating and apologies could make up for years of neglect.

But another part of you, the part that still ached for their love, the part that still wanted them to prove you wrong,

That part whispered, “What if?” What if when they found out the truth, they would love you? What if this time, they actually stayed?

What if this was your chance to finally have the family you always wanted?

The war inside your head made you dizzy. And Slade knew it. He was still holding you, still keeping you rooted to him, while your world spun out of control. After a long, suffocating silence, Slade finally sighed. “You’re a mess.”

You glared at him, pushing away from his grip. “Fuck you.”

Slade chuckled, unfazed. “You do it almost every night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "You're a child, you know that?"

You turned away, grabbing a glass from the counter, hands still shaking slightly as you filled it with water. You weren’t thirsty, but you needed something—anything—to keep yourself grounded.

Slade leaned against the counter again, watching you with amusement, but something deeper lurked beneath it. Then, in a voice so casual it almost didn’t register, “I’ll make him stop. I'll make them both stop.”

The glass almost slipped from your fingers. You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What?”

Slade shrugged, like it was nothing. “You don’t want to deal with them. You don’t want to make a decision. So I’ll make it for you.”

Your breath caught. Slade never dealt with things peacefully, he got rid of problems permanately. “You can’t just—”

“I can.” His smirk deepened. “And I will.”

Your stomach twisted. Because the worst part was; you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified. Because Slade was right. You didn’t want to make a choice. You wanted someone to do it for you.

And Slade was more than happy to take that burden.

The first thing you noticed the next morning was the silence. No more buzzing. No more messages lighting up your screen. Slade had done it.

He hadn’t waited for you to argue. Hadn’t given you the choice. By the time you checked your phone, every number had been blocked. Every contact erased like they had never existed at all.

And maybe that’s what Slade wanted.

For them to be nothing but ghosts in your past. A clean break. A fresh start. So why did it feel like your chest was splitting open?

You had spent years craving their attention. Years begging for even a scrap of love. And now? Now you had the chance to get it. And you ignored it. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t need them. That you had spent too long chasing something that was never meant to be yours.

And yet, as you stood in the quiet of the apartment, phone gripped too tight in your hands, you ached. Because you had wanted them to fight for you.

Slade had left that morning, his usual teasing smirk in place, but there had been something off.

Maybe it was the fact that his mission was dragging out longer than expected.

Maybe it was the way his fingers had lingered under your chin before he left, thumb brushing over your jaw like he was making sure you were still his.

Or maybe it was the way he had muttered, “Be good while I’m gone, sweetheart.” as you kissed him goodbye.

Like he already knew you wouldn’t be. Like he already knew something was coming. The apartment felt too big without him. His absence wasn’t something you should have noticed.

But you did.

It was in the empty space beside you when you sat on the couch. The extra portion of dinner you made out of habit. The lack of footsteps behind you. The missing weight of his presence pressing against your world, keeping you safe.

It was the first time in months you had been truly alone. So you did the only thing you could think of.

You took a nice, long, hot, shower, trying to dull the ache below your hips. You and Slade had sex last night, but somehow you were already wanting more. It was like your body could sense his absense.

You stood under the hot water, letting the steam curl around your skin, letting the heat scald away the thoughts clawing at your mind.

Maybe Slade was right. Maybe it was easier to just let go.

There was a sound. Soft. Distant. A creak where there shouldn’t be one. You wouldn't have heard it, wouldn't have sensed the body heat if you didn't have your powers. Your heart stopped. You turned off the water immediately, listening.

Nothing.

Maybe it was just—

Another creak. Closer this time. You swallowed, pulse hammering, every nerve in your body screaming at you that something was wrong. Slade was gone.

No one should be here. But you weren’t alone.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your damp skin, fangs reader and a knife in your hand, you felt him.

The shift in the air. The weight of someone watching. And then, his voice.

“Gotta admit,” Harvey mused, voice smooth, mocking, as if he had any right to be angry “didn’t think you’d be the type to shack up with a guy like him.”

Your stomach dropped. You turned sharply, eyes darting across the room, breath catching in your throat when you saw him.

Sitting on your bed. On Slade’s bed.

Harvey was leaning back against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other, looking far too comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like he wasn’t the intruder in this equation.

Harvey sat there like he hadn’t broken in, hadn’t shattered what little peace you had left. The moment you stepped out of the shower, still dripping, wrapped only in a towel, you knew, he was waiting for you.

Your fingers clenched around the towel’s edge, jaw tight, pulse pounding.

"You’ve got some fucking nerve," you muttered, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between you and him.

Harvey leaned back against the pillows, one arm draped lazily over the headboard, watching you with something smug, something knowing.

"Had to see you," he said simply. Like it was normal. Like it was nothing.

Your stomach twisted. It was never nothing with Harvey.

"And let me guess," you bit back. "You just let yourself in."

His smirk widened. "Door was unlocked, it’s not breaking and entering if you used to live together."

You let out a sharp laugh. "Bullshit. That’s exactly what it is, Dent. We don't like together anymore. Never did officially either."

Harvey didn’t flinch. Instead, his gaze slid lower. Over the damp strands of your hair. Over your throat. Your collarbone. Your bare legs.

You knew that look. It made something ugly stir inside you.

He looked at you, gaze slow, deliberate, taking in every inch of you. The damp strands of hair clinging to your skin. The way the towel barely covered enough to keep you decent.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t stop on my account. Nothing I haven't seen before.”

Your fingers clenched around the towel, pulse thundering. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Harvey let out a quiet chuckle, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Relax, sweetheart. Just thought I’d drop by. Say hello. You wouldn’t answer your phone, so I figured—” he spread his arms in mock innocence, “—why not pay a visit?”

You hated how calm he was. How easy he made it look. Like he hadn’t just broken into your home. Like he hadn't broken your heart. Your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, heart hammering against your ribs. Slade was gone. Gone.

No one was coming. But you could handle yourself. And Harvey knew it. His eyes flickered down your body again, this time slow, calculating. Looking at all the marks and love bites Slade had left the night before. “You always did have a thing for older men,” he mused.

Your jaw clenched. Low blow.

Harvey smirked. “What’s the matter? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Thought you could just run off and play house with Gotham’s favorite mercenary and I’d let it slide?” He tsked, almost disappointed. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart.”

You glared at him. Where did he get the audacity? “You don’t own me. Especially not now. Especially not after what you did. Your apology didn't change anything. You've got no right to be here.”

Harvey’s expression darkened, but only for a second. Then he grinned. “Funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking about him.”

Your stomach twisted. Because you knew what he was doing. He wanted you off balance. He wanted you to doubt. It was working. Because a part of you—a part you hated—was already wondering what Slade would do when he found out. Because he would find out. How jealous would he be? Would he finally drop the whole nonchalant act, ask you to be official?

Harvey’s smirk widened. “You think he’s coming back soon? You waiting for him? That's real cute princess.”

Your throat tightened. “He'll be back tomorrow.”

Harvey shrugged, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How missions can just drag out longer than expected?” His grin turned sharp. Cruel. “Would be a real shame if something happened to keep him… occupied.”

Your blood froze. Harvey watched you, waiting for the realization to sink in. He knew. He knew Slade wasn’t coming home anytime soon.

Your fingers curled into fists and suddenly you were on top of him, fangs bared, “What did you do?”

Harvey simply leaned back, enjoying himself and the view of your almost naked body on top of him. He turned his neck, as if trying to give you more access to him.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Now, now. Don’t go blaming me. I didn’t lift a finger.” His grin widened. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know who did.”

Your breath was coming too fast, too shallow, panic creeping up your spine. Slade was gone. Harvey was here. You were trapped. And Harvey knew it. Your pulse pounded. Slade was gone. Harvey was here.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pinning him down harder against the mattress, your fangs bared, breath coming in sharp, furious exhales.

"What did you do?" you hissed again, voice low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained rage.

Harvey smirked up at you, completely unbothered. His eyes gleamed with that same smug amusement, like he was playing with his food.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, voice infuriatingly smooth, teasing. "No need to get all worked up."

You pressed your thighs against his sides, pinning him harder. "Answer me, Harvey."

He let out a slow breath, his smirk twitching, dark amusement flickering across his features. "You always were so determined. I love that about you."

Your fingers tightened, nearly scratching his back, sharp acrylics pressing into his skin through the fabric of his white button down. You didn't want to hurt him, not badly at least.

"Tell me why Slade’s mission is taking so long," you demanded, your weight pressing down on him, your legs gripping him tighter.

Harvey’s hands moved then; sliding slowly up your thighs, gripping just hard enough to make your breath catch.

"You really think I’m gonna make this easy for you?" he murmured, voice dropping to something lower, something thicker with something he wasn’t bothering to hide.

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping down your spine, twisting through your limbs. He knew. He felt it.

His smirk widened, his hips shifting beneath you just slightly.

And that’s when you felt it.

Hard. Throbbing. Pressing against the thin fabric of his slacks, against the barely-there barrier of your towel. You nearly moaned, stop being a slut, you tried to tell yourself.

You froze, just for a second. And Harvey noticed.

You were straddling him, baring your venomous fangs. You could kill him. And he was hard. You could feel it, it was impossible not to, thick, twitching against your inner thigh, pressed right against you.

Your powers didn’t help. They never fucking did. The second you got close enough to feel body heat, it was over. It was a constant hum under your skin, that ache, that need, clawing at your sanity. Your towel barely clinging to your damp skin, the heat of his body seeping into yours, you didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

He let out a low, pleased chuckle, his good hand settling on your waist, just barely gripping. "Didn’t know you missed me this much, sweetheart. Thought you were over me?"

Your nails dug into his chest even harder, but he didn’t flinch. He never fucking did. "Tell me where Slade is," you demanded.

Harvey hummed, mocking. "You sure you wanna talk about him right now?" His fingers flexed against your skin, his smirk widening as he shifted slightly beneath you again. "Because from where I’m sitting, you got bigger problems."

Your breath hitched, and you hated it. Hated the way your traitorous body reacted to him. Hated the way he felt so familiar.

His gaze flickered, taking in the flush on your skin, the way your thighs squeezed involuntarily around him. He felt it too. The heat. The tension. The pull that never really disappeared, no matter how many times you had tried to convince yourself that you were done with him.

"You always were greedy," Harvey murmured, tilting his head, eyes dark with something wicked. He was loving this. "You just can’t get enough, can you?"

Suddenly, you were angry at him again. You remembered Tiffany. Your grip tightened around his wrists, holding him down, pressing harder into him, and his smirk twitched, just slightly.

Good. Let him fucking squirm. "You still think you have control here?" you whispered, lowering your head, your breath grazing the sharp line of his jaw.

His breathing faltered. Just for a second. Just enough.

Then, just as quickly, his lips curled again, sharp and taunting.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, voice deep, smug, full of sin. "As long as youre on top of me or under me, I don't give a shit who's in control."

Your entire body tensed. Your nails dragged down his chest, slow, teasing, right over his shirt. You could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath your fingertips, fast, erratic, out of sync with the smug bastard act he was putting on.

He was burning for you. Just as much as you were for him. But you weren’t going to give in.

"You still think you can do whatever you want to me?" you whispered, leaning in, letting your lips hover just over his.

Harvey’s eyes flickered. A muscle in his jaw ticked. And for the first time since he had shown up, his smirk finally fucking dropped.

You grinned. Then you moved your hips and ran your fingers up and down his chest.

Harvey cursed sharply through his teeth, his grip on your waist tightening instantly, fingers digging into your skin like a vice. His dick twitched against you through his slacks, so fucking hard and aching that you could almost feel the pulse of it.

You let out a slow, breathy chuckle. "Guess you do still want me, huh?"

Harvey’s breathing was uneven. "Careful," he rasped, voice lower, darker, more dangerous now. "You’re playing a real stupid game, princess."

"Why?" you taunted, grinded your hips again, watching the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to snap. "Because you can’t handle it? Because you can’t handle me?"

It was fun being in control. Slade never let you do whatever you wanted to him, barely ever in the bedroom. You loved control, especially when it meant having a man at your mercy beneath you.

Harvey’s eyes flashed. Then, he flipped you. Fast. Brutal.

You barely had time to react before you were the one beneath him , your towel barely hanging onto your body, his hand locked around your wrist, pinning you down, his body hovering over yours, pressing you into the mattress.

His breathing was hard, uneven, tense.

"You really think I don’t know what you’re doing?" he murmured, so close now.

Your chest heaved. You got too cocky, too confident, and now you were paying the price, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Harvey laughed softly, mocking, brushing his nose against yours. "Liar."

You swallowed, pulse hammering.

"You love this," he said, voice like gravel against your skin. "The attention. The desperation and groveling. You love seeing me beg. The way you talk like you want to kill me, and the next second," his lips ghosted your cheek, his cock pressing hard against your thigh, "you’re grinding against me like a fucking addict."

Your breath hitched. His grip tightened.

"He ever let you get on top?" he murmured, lips just barely grazing yours.

Your stomach twisted. "Don't."

His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Did you think about me when he had you at first? Did you close your eyes and pretend it was my hands on you even after I broke your heart? Should I tell him that?"

Your nails dug into his shoulder, your body betraying you, the heat between your legs only getting worse, stronger, overwhelming, unbearable.

"You wish," you rasped, but it sounded too breathless, too shaky.

Harvey smirked. He knew. "Say you don’t miss me," he challenged.

You clenched your jaw, turning your head away, trying to ignore the way your body burned beneath his.

"Say it," he demanded.

You tried to, but the words wouldn't come out.

Harvey hummed. Then, his fingers slid lower, trailing along your bare thigh, teasing the hem of the towel.

"Yeah," he mused, smug and cruel. "That’s what I thought."

His fingers flexed against your thighs, his grip tightening.

"Little desperate, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice thick with something smug, something rough.

You scoffed, but your heart was hammering, your body betraying you. "If I was desperate," you whispered, leaning forward until your lips were just barely brushing against his, taunting, teasing. "You’d already be inside me."

Harvey let out a low groan. He flipped you back around, giving you full control. Letting you be on top. You lost yourself for a moment, lost the plot. You melted into him and began kissing his neck slowly and unbuttoning his shirt as you slowly moved against him. But then, you saw the picture frame you hung of you and Slade, right behind Harvey.

Slade made you take down all the photos whenever he went away on a mission, in case someone broke in and saw them, and decided to hurt you to get back at him. It was the only one you refused to remove.

It was of you and him, two months ago. Slade had a mission in Paris and he let you tag along, after you were done, you made him go to an ice cream shop. Some sweet old man asked if you wanted a picture together, Slade wasn't smiling, barely even smirking, but you could see the happiness in his eyes as he had his arms around your waist, looking down at you.

You felt nauseous, all the arousal you felt was gone. You were a whore. How could you do this to Slade? You stopped moving as your eyes watered, what if Harvey had done something to him?

Harvey's hands snapped up, gripping your hips, grinding you down onto him. He wasn't gonna let you stop now.

"Fuck, baby, I forgot how good you are at this. Don't stop, please." he exhaled, almost begging, his jaw tightening, his cock pulsing against you.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the heat clawing through your body, the way your nerves lit up at the sheer pressure of him beneath you. It felt so good. You were horny again. But you could use this to your advantage, Harvey wanted you even more that you wanted him.

"Tell me," you whispered, rolling your hips just slightly, torturing him. "Tell me what you mean when you say Slade's occupied.."

Harvey’s smirk curled, his hands dragging you down harder, making you feel every inch of him. " What’s it worth to you?"

Your breath hitched. Harvey’s fingers trailed up your back, slow, possessive, teasing. "You wanna make sure your merc comes back in one piece?"

You swallowed hard, your body thrumming with frustration, anger, something else. All control you had was slipping, your powers were making you horny but they weren't working. Harvey wasn't listening to what you told him to do.

"Make me happy, sweetheart. If I’m happy," his smirk deepened, his voice dripping with dark amusement. " the bastard stays alive."

Your chest tightened, heat roaring up your spine, burning you from the inside out. You hated him. You wanted him. You needed to keep Slade alive. Harvey’s hands slid lower, his thumbs tracing slow, burning circles into your skin.

"Make a decision, pretty girl, his flight leaves soon." he murmured, his dick twitched against you, heavy with need. God, how could he be horny while threatening your teacher/ mentor /situationship's life?

You couldn’t lose Slade.

So you kissed him. Hard. Desperate.

Harvey groaned against your lips, his hands flying up to grip your waist, dragging you down harder against him, practically trying to merge your bodies together.

"That’s my girl," he muttered, his voice rough, victorious, possessive.

Your stomach burned with shame, with need, with something twisted and terrible. You hated him. You loved him.

You needed Slade to live.

But you couldn't do this to Slade, couldn't betray him on the bed you shared every night. He would be livid, what would he do in this situation? Probably kill Harvey. But you weren't Slade, you weren't as brave or as cruel as him.

So you did what you do best: You ran.

You jumped off of Harvey, punching him in the nose, still only in your towel that somehow stayed on, and shut the bedroom door in his face. You had powers, you were faster than Harvey, maybe even stronger than him. You made it to the front door in seconds, but your heart dropped as you saw the three new deadbolts.

Fucking Slade. You debated letting him die at that point.

Suddenly, you felt him behind you, grabbing you and pinning you against the door.

“Goddamn,” He laughed, amused, mocking, “you really thought that would work?”

You snarled, struggling harder, but he didn’t budge. His grip only tightened.

“Let me go, Harvey.”

His breath hitched at the way you said his name. Not Dent. Not Two-Face. Not some alias meant to keep distance. Just Harvey.

And it made something in his chest clench. His fingers flexed, his other hand dragging up your spine in a slow, deliberate motion, making you shudder.

“You always run, don’t you?” His voice was low, smooth—but there was something dangerous beneath it. “Always running from someone.”

His grip tightened on your wrists, pressing them into the wall, “From them. From me. From yourself.”

You hated how well he knew you. You hated that he was right. You hated how he got you into bed willingly even as the guilt ate you up. You hated how good he made you feel, how you couldn't bring yourself to say no. If you did, he would stop, and you didn't want that.

"Don't act like you don't want me now. You were all over me not even a minute ago." He sneered, as he ripped off your towel like it offended him.

You didn't know how many times you came, or how long you went for. You felt so good, but somehow you've never felt worse. Even as Harvey made you scream his name, you thought of how Slade would react.

You felt even worse as the night wore on, and instead of rough sex, you began to make love. Harvey buried his face in your neck as he muttered apologies, still buried inside you, and swore he would make it up to you.

You began to cry, it felt so good. But it was so wrong, so disgusting.

And you knew you never felt true regret until you woke up the next morning in Harvey Dent's arms, naked on the bed you slept on with Slade Wilson.

WHAT YALL THINK?? 1-10?? ALSO COMMENT DOWN BELOW TO BE ON THE TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY

#yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere harvey dent #yandere slade wilson #platonic yandere batman #yandere jason todd x reader

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my-castles-crumbling · 14 hours ago

Text

despise - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 311

“I’m definitely right,” Pandora said lightly, poking her girlfriend in the shoulder and smirking.

“I don’t know…they’re always yelling at each other,” Lily argued, laughing and wiggling a bit from the poke and shrugging. “And maybe Evan likes Barty, but Barty’s always going around with girls. You really think he likes him too?”

“I don’t think. I know. Watch,” Pandora responded, lowering her voice as Barty approached them.”

They both stared as the boy in question flopped into a chair in the Slytherin Common Room before giving them a look. “Neither of you are even Slytherins,” he complained, frowning.

“I’m a Slytherin at heart, and she can go wherever I can,” Pandora rolled her eyes. Lily resisted the urge to smile and blush. “But I have gossip for you.”

“Oh?” Barty asked, face brightening, instantly distracted.

“Yes. I heard Evan is going to Hogsmeade next week with Ellie Pomel,” Pandora said in a whisper, winking at Lily, who stared at Barty, curious about his reaction.

As if hit by a spell, Barty’s entire demeanor changed. “I fucking despise her,” he spat, a grimace on his face.

Inspired, Lily cut in. “No, Dora, you’re wrong!” she said. “He’s going with Amelia Brant.”

Barty just frowned deeper. “Hate her, too.”

Lily felt Pandora’s hand pinch her leg quickly before the Ravenclaw said, “No! Sorry, that’s wrong. He’s actually going with Dorcas! Dorcas Meadowes, you know-”

Barty blinked rapidly and wrinkled his nose. “She’s been kind of a bitch lately, actually,” he mumbled.

At this, Pandora let out a disbelieving snort. “Barty, you idiot. Amelia and Ellie are both wonderful humans, Dorcas is one of your best friends and a lesbian, and you are obviously completely in love with Evan. Get your head out of your arse.”

And with that, Lily laughed as Pandora stood and dragged her away, leaving a wide-eyed Barty behind.

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inseobts · 2 days ago

Text

Threaded

trafalgar law x strawhat!reader

all you two do is bickering but maybe that just hide something else

a/n: this is one of the first I’ve written so I’m sorry if it’s not that good

tags: enemies to lovers?

word count: 1.6k

masterlist // ko-fi

The first time you met Trafalgar Law, you wanted to punch him.

You weren’t sure if it was the smug look on his face, the way he stood just a little too tall and confident, or how easily he’d dismissed you during a skirmish between the Heart Pirates and the Strawhats.

“Stay out of my way, Y/N-ya” he’d said coolly, not even sparing you a second glance as he used his Room ability to whisk his crew to safety.

Ever since then, your encounters with him had been a mix of competition and thinly veiled insults. You’d fought alongside and against him during chaotic battles, always at odds but somehow never truly harming each other.

And, annoyingly, the others loved to tease you about it.

“I think Law likes you” Nami said one night on the Sunny, smirking as you glared at her.

“Yeah, right” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “He’s just arrogant and annoying.”

“And yet, every time he shows up, you look very interested” Zoro teased, earning a laugh from the crew.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their laughter as you stared out at the sea. The truth was, Law was interesting. Infuriating, yes, but undeniably clever and powerful. And every time he faced you in battle, there was a flicker of respect in his eyes that made your heart skip—though you’d die before admitting it.

The next time you crossed paths, it was during an ambush on a Marine base. Both the Strawhats and the Heart Pirates had the same idea: raid the place for supplies and information.

“Of course you’re here” you muttered as Law appeared beside you in the chaos, his Room ability slicing through Marine reinforcements.

“Likewise” he replied, his tone flat.

You rolled your eyes, summoning your energy to blast a group of Marines into the wall.

“Try not to slow me down, Surgeon” you taunted.

Law smirked faintly, his sword flashing as he neutralized another group. “I should say the same to you.”

The two of you moved in sync, your powers complementing his precision as you cleared the room. By the time the dust settled, you were both panting, but victorious.

“You’re not as bad as I thought” you admitted grudgingly, glancing at him.

“Likewise” he said, his tone softer than before.

For a moment, the tension between you shifted into something else—something quieter, almost… tender. But before either of you could speak, a loud crash from outside reminded you that the crews were still fighting.

“Back to work” you said, brushing past him.

After the raid, you didn’t expect to see Law again so soon. But a week later, the Heart Pirates docked near the Sunny, ostensibly to exchange information about the Marines.

“Sure, information” Sanji said annoyed as you watched Law step aboard. “More like an excuse to see Y/N.”

“Shut up” you hissed, your cheeks heating as you crossed your arms.

Law ignored the whispers and teasing from both crews, his gaze sharp as he walked toward you.

“Y/N-ya. Where’s your captain?” he said simply.

“He’s resting” you answer with a cold tone, trying not to question why he asked you out of everyone.

He nods, holding out a piece of parchment.

You raised an eyebrow, taking it. “What’s this?”

“Details about a Marine operation near here,” he replied. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“Why are you helping us?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugged. “Your interference benefits me. Simple as that.”

But the faint smile tugging at his lips told a different story, and you couldn’t help but smirk in return.

“You’re lucky I don’t blast you off this ship” you teased, summoning a flicker of energy in your hand.

“And you’re lucky I don’t cut you in half” he replied, though there was no malice in his tone.

The crews watched the exchange with barely concealed glee, their whispers growing louder.

“They’re so into each other” Nami said, smirking at Robin.

“Think they know?” she asked.

“Not a chance” Nami replied, laughing softly.

Over the next few weeks, your encounters with Law became more frequent. You worked together to take down Marine operations, often bickering but always falling into a rhythm that felt almost natural.

And slowly, the tension between you began to shift.

It was during a quiet night on the Sunny, after a mission, that you finally confronted the elephant in the room.

“Why do you keep showing up?” you asked, finding him standing alone at the edge of the deck.

He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Maybe I enjoy the challenge.”

“Of working with me or putting up with me?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Both,” he admitted, a faint smirk on his lips.

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Wait, are you—”

“Don’t overthink it, Y/N-ya” he said, finally turning to face you. “But for what it’s worth… I don’t hate having you around.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep your expression neutral “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

The crews, who had been secretly watching from below deck, erupted into cheers and whistles, ruining the moment.

“JUST KISS ALREADY!” Luffy shouted, earning groans and laughter from everyone else.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “They’re never going to let us live this down, are they?”

“No” Law said, his smirk widening.

And as the chaos around you grew, you couldn’t help but laugh, realizing that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being stuck with him.

It happened during one of those rare, quiet nights when the sea was calm, and the crews were resting after yet another skirmish with the Marines. The Heart Pirates and the Strawhats had docked together on a small, remote island to regroup. The two crews were enjoying a bonfire, their laughter echoing through the night, but you found yourself wandering away from the group, your thoughts racing.

As much as you hated to admit it, Law had been on your mind far too often lately. His sharp wit, his calm demeanor, the way his gaze lingered on you during battles—it was maddening.

You sighed, sitting on a rock overlooking the ocean, when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Y/N-ya” Law’s voice called softly.

You didn’t turn around, but the corner of your lips twitched. “Stalking me now, Surgeon?”

“I could say the same about you, wandering off to brood” he replied, stepping beside you.

“Brooding is your thing” you shot back, finally glancing up at him.

He smirked faintly but said nothing, his silver eyes scanning the horizon. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the sound of the waves filling the air.

“You’ve been quiet tonight” he said finally, breaking the silence.

“Just thinking,” you admitted, resting your chin on your knees. “About… everything.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

You hesitated, debating whether to speak your mind. But something about the way he was looking at you—calm, patient, as if he already knew what you were going to say—made you want to be honest.

“About you” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

Law’s eyes widened slightly, the smallest crack in his usual composure. “What about me?”

“You’re infuriating,” you began, standing up and pacing in front of him. “You’re always so calm, so smug, like you know everything. And you drive me crazy because you do know everything half the time. And yet… you’re the one person I can’t stop thinking about.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you froze, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

Law was quiet for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he stood, stepping closer to you.

“You drive me crazy too, Y/N-ya,” he said, his voice low. “Your recklessness, your power… the way you always throw yourself into danger without thinking.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “That sounds more like an insult.”

“It’s not,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Because for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could reply, a loud crash sounded behind you.

“DAMN IT!”

You whipped around to see the Luffy fall from a nearby tree, covered in leaves, turning to the others who were poorly hidden.

“What the hell?!” you shouted, your face burning.

“We weren’t spying!” Usopp says as the rest of both crews scrambled to hide behind trees and rocks.

“Yeah, totally not spying!” Luffy shouted, laughing loudly.

“Let’s just leave them alone!” Nami groaned, smacking Luffy on the head as the crews retreated, their laughter fading into the distance.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I’m going to kill them.”

Law chuckled softly, his amusement breaking the tension. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”

When you looked up at him, his usual calm had returned, but his silver eyes held a warmth you’d never seen before.

“So… about what you said” you began awkwardly, your cheeks burning.

Law took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. “If you’re done yelling at the audience…”

You laughed nervously, but the sound faded as he leaned in, his expression serious.

“Can I?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips brushed yours. The kiss was soft, slow, and far gentler than you’d expected from someone like him.

When you pulled away, your power energy flickered around you, uncontrollable as your emotions surged.

“Sorry” you muttered, trying to rein it in.

Law smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It suits you.”

From the distance, you heard muffled cheers and groans, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“They’re never going to shut up about this” you said, shaking your head.

“Let them talk” Law replied, his voice calm but firm “I don’t care.”

And for the first time, neither did you.

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shizuturnspages · 3 days ago

Note

kind of a vague request but how would yan childe be with a reader who doesn’t know about his job? would he avoid telling them and keep it a secret? how would he react to reader finding out?

Bloodstained Secrets

Pairing: Yandere Childe x Reader

Childe isn’t just good at keeping secrets—he’s a master at it.

A lifetime of deception, of balancing the mask of a playful older brother with the reality of a ruthless Harbinger, had made him an expert at hiding the blood on his hands. And with you? He had to keep the truth buried.

You weren’t like him. You didn’t understand war, death, or the weight of the Fatui’s name. You didn’t flinch at the sound of his footsteps, didn’t look at him with fear, didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him after he returned from his so-called “business trips.” You trusted him.

And he couldn’t lose that.

So, he did what he always did—he lied.

"I work under the Tsaritsa," he’d say casually when you asked about his job. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, everyone in the Fatui worked under Her Majesty.

"Office work is dull, but someone’s gotta do it." Also not a complete lie. Paperwork was part of his responsibilities. Of course, he omitted the fact that most of those documents were reports of who needed to die next.

"The bruises? Ah, don’t worry about ‘em, sweetheart. Just training with some of the recruits." Another half-truth. There were recruits involved, but they were often on the receiving end of his blade.

He played the part of the hardworking boyfriend well. Too well. He never let you see too much, never let you overhear a conversation that would make you question him. If you got too curious, he’d kiss you breathless, his lips pressing against yours until you forgot whatever had been bothering you. If you asked too many questions, he’d buy you something expensive to distract you.

But he knew.

He knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Secrets always had a way of clawing their way to the surface, no matter how deeply buried.

It happened so stupidly that Childe could almost laugh.

One mistake. One tiny slip.

A letter, sealed with the Fatui insignia, left half-open on his desk. Not even a particularly damning one—just an order, something vague about ensuring a merchant in Liyue Harbour complied with their rules. But it was enough.

Because when he walked into the room and saw you standing there, that letter trembling in your hands, your lips slightly parted in realisation—

Something in his world shifted.

You didn’t look at him like you usually did. There was no warmth in your gaze, no blind trust, no soft affection.

Just fear.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

"You’re a Harbinger, aren’t you?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through him.

Childe tilted his head, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Took you long enough." His voice was light, teasing, but there was something else behind it. A tension. A warning.

You stepped back. He noticed.

And he hated it.

It was subtle—the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to run. The way your breathing had turned uneven, as if you were just now realizing the weight of the situation.

Ah.

So this was what it felt like.

He had seen this expression before. On enemies who knew they weren’t walking away from a fight. On people who begged for their lives just before he cut them down.

He never thought he’d see it on you.

The realisation burned.

"I—" You swallowed. "I need to think."

No. No, you didn’t.

Childe moved before you could take another step back, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand wrapped around your wrist—gentle, but unyielding.

"No."

Your breath hitched. His grip tightened.

"You don’t need to think about anything." His voice was lower now, a quiet, steady thing that left no room for argument.

You stared at him, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs. "Childe—"

"Ajax." He corrected, leaning closer, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Say it."

You didn’t. But it didn’t matter. Because at that moment, he made a decision.

If you were afraid of the truth, then he would make sure you never had a reason to run from it.

He would keep you safe. He would keep you close.

And he would never let you leave.

Because he can’t lose you.

Not now. Not when he’s finally had a taste of something pure, something untouched by the darkness he wades through every day.

He’ll do anything to keep you.

Lie again. Promise you he’ll change. Beg, if he has to.

And if that doesn’t work?

Then… maybe it’s better if you never leave his side.

Because the world he lives in? The one filled with war and betrayal and death?

You wouldn’t last a day in it.

And if the only way to protect you is to keep you close—

Then so be it.

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aquaholicsanonymousworld · 2 days ago

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The Edge of the Sky

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Sister!Reader

Summary: Growing up with Rooster and Hangman, you never imagined that one day, the cocky, insufferable pilot would be the one to turn your world upside down. As the three of you push yourselves to the limits in the Top Gun program, old rivalries and new emotions collide. When a near-disastrous accident forces you to confront feelings you never saw coming, you’re left wondering: has the man you spent your whole life rolling your eyes at been the one all along?

The heat of the San Diego sun bore down on you as you leaned back on your hands, watching the Top Gun squad argue over whose fault it was that their last play had gone to hell. A volleyball spun lazily in the air before bouncing onto the sand near your feet. You could already see the smug look on Hangman’s face before you even glanced up.

"Well, well, well," Hangman drawled, stepping closer, hands on his hips. "If it isn’t Rooster’s little sister, here to grace us with her overwhelming lack of athletic ability."

You rolled your eyes, tossing the ball back to him. "I’m not the one who just got spiked on by Phoenix."

Phoenix smirked as she dusted sand off her hands. "Damn right he did."

Hangman caught the ball effortlessly and twirled it on his finger. "That was a tactical error. I was busy strategizing."

Rooster scoffed. "Yeah? Strategizing how to lose?"

"That’s funny, Bradshaw. Remind me, who’s winning again?" Hangman gestured at the scoreboard scratched into the sand. His team was up by four points, but if you had to guess, it wasn’t the game that mattered—it was the bragging rights.

You smirked, shaking your head at their antics, before standing and dusting sand off your legs. "Alright, boys, keep measuring whatever it is you’re measuring. Some of us need water before we die of heat stroke."

As you walked off toward the cooler, you felt Hangman’s eyes on you. You were used to it—he’d always been Rooster’s cocky, infuriating friend, the guy you’d grown up rolling your eyes at. But lately, there was something different about the way he looked at you. Maybe you were imagining it. Maybe not. Either way, you refused to give it another thought.

Training was brutal the next morning. Maverick was running you all ragged, pushing the limits of your speed and endurance in the air. You and Hangman had been paired for dogfighting drills, which meant you spent most of your time cursing his name as he pulled impossible maneuvers that left you struggling to keep up.

"Damn it, Hangman!" you hissed through the comms as he cut in front of you with zero warning. "A little heads-up next time?"

His laugh crackled through your earpiece. "Where’s the fun in that?"

You ground your teeth, banking hard to the right. The two of you went at it, testing the limits of your jets and your patience, until Maverick finally called for a break. When you landed, you barely made it five steps before Rooster was in your face, arms crossed.

"You realize you’re playing right into his hands, right?" Rooster said, jabbing a finger at your chest. "He loves getting under your skin. It’s his favorite hobby."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, well, unfortunately, I have better things to do than worry about Hangman’s hobbies."

"Do you?" Rooster asked, skeptical. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s got you on edge."

You waved him off. "You’re imagining things."

But Rooster wasn’t done. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Just... be careful, alright? Hangman’s a lot of things, but he’s not the kind of guy who—"

"I know exactly what kind of guy he is," you interrupted. "And trust me, I’m not interested."

Rooster gave you a long, knowing look before shaking his head. "If you say so."

A week later, everything changed.

It was supposed to be a standard training run. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then, in the blink of an eye, Hangman’s jet stalled.

"Eject, eject!" Maverick’s voice rang through the comms as Hangman’s jet spiraled. You felt your stomach drop.

And then, the parachute deployed. Hangman drifted down, landing hard in the desert just outside the airstrip. You were out of your jet before you even registered moving, sprinting toward the medics loading him onto a stretcher.

"Move!" you barked at one of the techs, shoving past them until you were at Hangman’s side. He groaned, wincing as he blinked up at you.

"Well, would you look at that," he murmured, voice rough but teasing. "Didn’t know you cared, darlin’."

Your heart was in your throat. "Shut up, Seresin."

But he just smirked. "You’re holding my hand, sweetheart."

You looked down. Sure enough, your fingers were wrapped tightly around his. You snatched your hand back as if burned, face flushing.

Rooster appeared at your side, arms crossed. "Huh. That’s an interesting reaction."

"Oh, screw you," you snapped, spinning on your heel and marching away before either of them could see the panic on your face.

Hangman, from his place on the stretcher, just grinned. "I think she likes me."

Rooster scowled. "Don’t push your luck."

The Hard Deck was packed that night, the bar alive with laughter and music as the squad gathered to celebrate Hangman getting cleared. The moment he walked in, the cheers went up, and he grinned like he owned the place.

Hangman raised his arms, basking in the applause. "Damn, feels good to be back! Miss me that much?" he called out, flashing his signature smirk as the squad clapped him on the back and pulled him into hugs. "Don't worry, your favorite pilot is still in one piece."

You were already at the bar, sipping your drink when he sauntered over, leaning against the counter beside you. "Didn’t think I’d see you over here all by your lonesome."

You smirked, not looking at him. "Figured I’d take a break from the testosterone overload."

He chuckled, ordering a drink before turning to face you fully. "So, about earlier—"

"Not happening," you cut in quickly, taking another sip.

He tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eye. "Oh, I think it is."

You finally met his gaze, and for the first time, you didn’t see just the cocky pilot who had been in your life for years. You saw something else—something dangerous, something tempting.

Your voice was quieter when you spoke. "What if it is?"

Hangman didn't hesitate. "Then I guess it's time I finally say it—you're the woman of my dreams."

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness, your heart hammering against your ribs. Before you could overthink it, before Rooster could interrupt with some snide remark, you reached up, grabbed the collar of his flight suit, and kissed him.

The bar erupted in cheers, the squad whooping and clapping, pounding on tables like they’d been waiting for this moment all along.

When you pulled back, Hangman smirked down at you, a little breathless. "Shoulda done that a long time ago, sweetheart."

Rooster, standing off to the side with his arms crossed, let out a long, suffering sigh. "If you break her heart, Hangman, I’ll break your face."

Hangman only grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Not a chance, Bradshaw."

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suzukiblu · 2 days ago

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WIP excerpt for inkwell behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

But also, Lynn almost definitely needs to sleep if he’s really stayed awake for four whole days. Or even, like, just mostly stayed awake. Maybe Kryptonians don’t need much sleep, but Billy’s definitely heard Superman at least mention sleeping before and Lynn’s still technically a newborn, and babies need a lot of sleep, right? And so do teenagers, actually, he’s pretty sure, ‘cuz he always hears about them sleeping a lot, so like . . .

“Your head doesn’t hurt or anything, right?” Billy asks, and Lynn stays tense in his arms, but also keeps his grip on his sweater, so Billy’s not really sure, like . . . how to take that, or whatever. “Did you get hit in it too bad at Cadmus?”

“. . . I don’t know,” Lynn says, still stiff. Which makes sense, Billy guesses, because–“It hurt a couple times, I guess. I don’t know what’s–’too bad’.”

“How long did it hurt for?” Billy asks, his frown deepening a little more. “Do you feel, like–dizzy or lightheaded? Or, um–cottony? Like things are maybe a little, like, not connecting?”

“Six to twelve seconds. And, uh–no,” Lynn says. “Nothing like that.”

“Okay,” Billy says, and relaxes a little. Lynn’s pupils are both the same size and he didn’t act sleepy or out of it ‘til now, and Kid Flash and his parents apparently didn’t notice anything like that either, so . . . probably it’s fine? He thinks? Like, he’s definitely gonna google some stuff that the wisdom of Solomon is maybe a few thousand years behind on, medically-speaking and all, and also obviously keep an extra-close eye on Lynn for the next couple days just in case, but he’s almost sure it’s fine.

Just–as long as he keeps an extra-close eye on Lynn, anyway. He does know concussion symptoms can show up a few days later, so–yeah, definitely he’s gonna keep an eye on him. Six to twelve seconds isn’t very long for something to hurt, though, so he’s pretty sure he’s just being paranoid?

But also he’s definitely gonna be paranoid about possible head injuries, so yeah, that’s kinda just gonna have to be a thing, Billy figures. Like that one’s just unavoidable.

“You probably do need to sleep,” he says. “Like I don’t know how much Kryptonians have to, but if you’re getting wobbly that kinda, you know, implies you need to? Or at least need to pretty soon?”

“. . . oh,” Lynn says. “Uh. Right.”

Billy feels kind of guilty about saying that, because I slept for four months is a pretty blatant sign of Lynn definitely being at least a little bit leery about the idea of going to sleep on purpose, but like–well, it's gonna be worse if Lynn stresses himself out about it for too long first, he figures. And he's not gonna be a very good dad if he lets Lynn stress himself out worrying about stuff that’s, like–irrational? Which, he doesn’t wanna say that’s an irrational thing to worry about, because if Lynn’s worried he’s got good reasons to be, just–like–

#billy batson #kon el #conner kent #captain marvel #shazam #superboy #young justice animated #young justice #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#inkwell

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novvabee · 9 hours ago

Text

And They Were Roommates 11

this sat in my drafts for a while because of the whole tiktok ban thing.

Summary: you prank James and it makes for a great tiktok.

word count: 1.5k

cw: swearing once or twice

The boys really didn’t understand what you were up to now.

They understood the concepts of social media and partook in the occasional instagram post, but they were all so… different.

You knew that they went to a boarding school that didn’t allow any technology, and they were severely lacking in the pop culture department, but usually Remus could fill in the gaps for the other two boys. He was the one who had seen all the movies you’d reference or know about a celebrity that you were talking about.

But when it came to silly trends and social media references, the boys were completely lost.

So, you decided to take advantage of their lack of understanding for a good laugh. Even though the girls also went to this boarding school, they still had a good understanding of the world. You and Lily would send funny videos or TikToks to each other, Mary would always discuss the latest celebrity tea with you, and Marlene would recommend new artists she found and send them to you to give a listen to. The point is, they weren’t as blind to these things as the boys were, maybe the boys were just heavily sheltered?

Either way, when you rounded them all up to explain that you wanted to do a silly trend, they looked at you in bewilderment. You had to explain multiple times what a “hear me out cake” was. You explained to them the premise, that there would be a cake that you all would take turns decorating with people and characters that you think were attractive and the rest of the group would have to ‘hear you out’ on why.

You all compiled your lists and sent the pictures up to Remus’s printer in his room. You noticed the boys had far less than yourself, but that was ok, you were really just trying to prank James and send the video to Lily.

The other day he had scared the daylights out of you when you thought you were home alone. He thought it was hilarious, you did not, so you knew you had to get him back somehow and you knew he wouldn’t be expecting this at all. None of them would, and you were ready to show off your mischievous side.

You sat in the living room, cutting out your images and taping them to toothpicks to later pop in the cake. Remus and James were kind enough to run to the store down the road and pick up a cake. You laughed at the inscription iced on top; a generic “Happy Birthday” with balloons iced around the corners.

“It’s perfect.” you smiled up at them.

They set the cake on the dining table as you and Sirius made your way into the kitchen. You handed both Remus and James their pictures and set your phone up to start recording.

“I still don’t really get it,” Sirius said from beside you, “Why do you have to film it? And why do you want to know who we find fit?”

You laughed as you hit the record button, stepping back and in line with the boys. “Because it’s just a stupid TikTok thing. I thought it would be funny.” you said, looking up at Sirius and batting your lashes, knowing he would go along with whatever you wanted when you looked at him like that.

“Fine,” he said finally.

“Ok, I'll go first,” you said. You pulled out a picture and stuck it in the cake. “James Sully.” You finished placing the picture of the blue avatar front and center.

“The Avatar?” Remus asked as James said, “Why is he blue?” to Sirius. Sirius just shrugged and looked to Remus for an answer. “He’s from a movie,” he explained.

“That thing isn’t even human,” Sirius laughed.

You laughed too, shrugging. “I mean he kinda is… and I thought he was cute ok?”

The boys shook their heads, if they didn’t understand the premise of this game before, they definitely didn’t now.

“Ok, ok,” Sirius said, “I’ll go next.” He picked out a picture and placed it next to yours.

“Sirius,” you said softly, “That’s a cat.” You stared at the picture of the gray tabby on the cake. And he had the audacity to poke fun at you for your ‘non-human’ character.

“Well,” Sirius began, “I didn’t have a picture of her so… this will have to do.”

“Didn’t have a picture of who?” James asked.

Sirius turned to James slightly. “Minnie.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed under his breath. James just burst into laughter, leaning on an unamused Remus for support. “What is wrong with you?”

You didn’t quite understand the joke, and you certainly didn't know who ‘Minnie’ was, but it was nice to see Remus and James giggle like that. Your plan was working, you were getting them all to loosen up a little.

James went next. He placed a picture of Princess Leia then stood back and said nothing. Maybe he didn’t get the rules of this little game. “James…” you began, “Why would we have to hear you out… she’s a conventionally attractive person.” you giggled.

He shrugged in reply. “But she's an alien right?” Oh but your ‘alien’ wasn’t ok… hypocrite.

“I mean, not really.” Remus said.

“Well she doesn't live on Earth.” James countered.

“Ok we are not arguing about Star Wars right now you nerds.” You laughed. “Go Remmy.” Remus placed an old photo of Jane Austen on the cake. “Wow… You really are a nerd.” you sighed. You stepped forward to go again.

You decided to play out your little prank on James now. You placed your picture on the cake and stepped back without a word, trying to contain your laughter. You caught the smile on Remus’s face.

“You want to explain that one?” Remus asked.

You shook your head. “Nope.” You answered.

It took all but a moment for James to realize who the picture was. “THAT’S MY DAD!” James yelled. There was a flash in your peripheral vision which turned out to be Sirius falling to the floor with laughter. You held it together for as long as you could, but the second James ripped the picture off the cake and turned back to you, you couldn’t help but giggle.

“This is my dad!” James kept repeating, shaking the picture at you. Even Remus was chuckling behind you, Sirius on the floor almost in tears and clutching his stomach.

“Where did you even get this picture? What, I mean… How even?” James was at a complete loss for words and you were losing it. You would never tell him where you got it. Lily would get a kick out of this video for sure.

“Well James,” Remus chuckled again from behind where you stood, nudging you aside softly to make his way back to the cake. “I have a feeling you’re not gonna like this one.” He placed a picture of a woman you didn’t know. She was beautiful, looked kind.

For a second the room was quiet, James and Sirius trying to see who it was that Remus placed on the cake. Sirius burst into another fit of laughter as James shrieked “WHAT THE FUCK!”

You looked to Remus who was full on laughing now. James kicked Sirius in the leg. “Shut up! She’s basically your mother too.”

“Wait, that's James’s mother?” you said, quickly making your way over and plucking the picture off the cake, holding it out in front of you to compare it to James. You could see the resemblance now. You decided to play along with Remus now. “Huh, you know what Remmy, she is hot.” you giggled. If that were to come out of either Sirius or Remus, James definitely would have punched them.

Remus threw his hands up in defence. “She said it, not me.”

James shook his head, speechless. “Why.” was all he could get out.

“Well I couldn’t put Sirius’s mother, now could I?” Remus stated matter of factly.

Sirius, who was still on the floor and struggling for breath, managed to wheeze out, “They did… all that… for a your mum joke…” He was definitely crying with laughter now.

“Oh no,” You said, the boys attention turning to you, “We didn’t work together on this.” you held out your hand in front of Remus and he took the hint, giving you a victorious high five.

“Great minds just think alike,” Remus agreed with you.

James’s face was quite priceless, somewhere in between shocked and baffled.

“I wanted to get back at you for scaring me the other day.” you explained to him. He seemed to come to understand, but still so confused and freaked out that you had a picture of his dad that you had never met.

James looked to Remus for his explanation, but Remus only smirked back at him. “I Just think your mum is hot.” Remus joked. James was on him in an instant, tackling him to the kitchen floor. Sirius had finally pulled himself together enough to sit up and start wiping the tears from his eyes. You sat next to Sirius on the floor and watched as James attempted to wrestle Remus to the ground, partially successful, but you could tell Remus was letting him win, his reward for putting up with you all calling his family hot.

You couldn’t wait to send this video to Lily.

if you've seen the tiktok I am referring to 💋 that is for you. I hope yall like this, its a short but sweet one.

taglist 💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem @nislame @latenightreadingpdf @v-loves-frogs @meggishhhh @mooonyxoxo @sodavrr @notmonstersapocalipse @plk-18 @prettylittlewrites @darkloverfox @navs-bhat @lexi2005 @bache3 @koolayee

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jjsloverre · 3 days ago

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bsf!jj asking you to be his girlfriend!

in which… jj takes sweetheart out to an arcade to ask her to be his girlfriend!

contains… cursing, ultimate fluff, and a TINY bit of smut, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), handjob & that’s it i hope! (not proofread)

__________________________________________________________

today was the day. today was the day jj would finally ask you to be his girlfriend. after waiting for years to do it, today he wouldn’t chicken out, you both would finally be happy.

“baby! hurry up we got 20 minutes!” jj yelled from downstairs. “i’m coming love!” you hurried downstairs. “holy fuck you look like a goddess.” jj murmured, kissing you while you walked out the house.

the drive to the arcade was bliss. you and jj were rambling about school, homework, work, anything that came to mind? oh yeah you talked about it. “so jayj?” you started. he looked at you for a second. “what’s up baby?” you took his free hand and fiddled with it, finally intertwining your hands together. “i’m happy to be with you, like a lot. i couldn’t ask for anything more and i already love this date bunches.”

jj looked at you with pure love and adoration. “y’know i adore you? everything about you just, makes me wanna protect you from the world. keep you in your tiny little love bubble you always got goin on, it’s just so sweet and precious.” your heart soared at his loving words. while the red light was active, you leaped into jj’s arms for a few kisses and sat back down. “i love you so much jayj.”

“i love you more sweetheart.”

jj took your hand into the arcade, buying the tokens and the gaming card for you both to play. “alright mama, what’s first?” he asked, while paying. “definitely basketball, you’re getting your ass kicked!” you say excitingly. “love your confidence baby.” he smirked, and took you to an available basketball hoop. “jayj this is gonna be so fun!!” you exclaimed, already swiping your card. “how much money did you put on here again?”

“don’t get mad but like there’s a good 500 points on there or some shit.”

“jj! that’s almost 200 dollars!” you screamed. you hated when jj blew almost a full check on you. “baby, it’s alright it’s worth it.” you sighed, he would continue to fight about it and you knew that. “okay fine, but next date is on me.”

“ok baby, whatever you’d like.” as you both played basketball and a ton of other games, you finally took a break for food. “baby!” you squeal. “can we pleaseeeee share a funnel cake?”

jj smiled and nodded. “yes ma’am we can. here, take my card and go buy it. i’ll get us a table and get whatever drinks you want ok?” you nod, and take his card. “do you want any specific drink?” jj shook his head. “get me anything you wanna get me, whatever you want sweetheart.”

“okay!” you walk to concession stand and order your food and drinks. you walk back a few minutes later and hand him his favorite drink. “there you go my baby!” jj’s heart swelled with love as you spoke and sat his drink down. “thank you beautiful.” even though pda wasn’t typically allowed, jj sat you in his lap and fed you some of your shared funnel cake. “taste good?” you nod. “wonderful.”

“how many more games do you wanna play baby?” he asked.

“ou ou! can we do one of those car games and we should do the go kart racing! and after that laser tags and then-” he cut you off immediately. “alright baby let’s just go and you can lead me to anything you want to do next.” you squealed in excitement. “let’s go!”

after another two hours, jj took you home and you both shared a shower. “finally! i’m so happy to be home i’m tired.” you yelled. “not done yet baby, i’m takin you out to dinner.”

“haha funny joke jj, you’ve spent enough money.”

“not a joke. i rented the whole restaurant just for us so we’re doing this.” you rolled your eyes. “fine jayj.” you and jj’s lips connected in the shower, sharing a passionate kiss. “mm love you.” he mumbled into the kiss. “love you more sweetie.” i reach down to stroke your hardening cock. “do y’like that baby?”

“i love it ma. cmon keep goin.” jj broke the kiss and buried his face into your neck, letting out needy whimpers. “my baby, you’re being such a good boy for me.” jj lets out another whimper, grabbing onto your plump ass. “fuck baby.. i can’t- i won’t last much longer.” you sped up your movements, cupping his heavy balls and squeezing just right. “f-fuck baby shit!” jj moaned into your neck, erratically thrusting into your fist.

with one more squeeze to his balls, jj came undone. in a swift movement, jj slipped his throbbing cock into your wet folds, his tip kissing your entrance. he pushed forward. “fuck baby i’m so sorry i need this..” you nodded happily and squeezed jj’s throbbing cock in more and more until he came, hard. he held you close while he emptied his load inside of your greedy cunt. “that’s a good boy.” cmon, we gonna get ready!”

“ma! i want you to cum though!” suddenly, jj felt your walls clamp down hard on his cock, realizing you did in fact cum. he moaned loudly and came one more time, giving you one more greedy load. “fuck baby, best sex i’ve had.”

“take it you liked it?”

“fuck yeah i did. now get ready for me, wear that red dress in your closet.”

you nod, putting the dress on after you get out of the shower. once you stepped out, jj looked at you in awe. “fuck yes baby! you look amazing! come on! i have so much shit planned for us.”

as you arrived at the restaurant, you immediately cling onto jj. “hey sweet girl, you’re alright.” he coaxed. he started to lead you to your seats and you both ordered. “pops is out of town again, so i can have you over and cuddle you.”

“exactly what i needed jayj.”

you and jj talked about random things for an hour, eating your food and happy overall, until he dropped a bombshell.

“so sweetheart.” he started. you turned your attention to him, letting him caress your thighs. “i didn’t think there was any better way to do this. i want you to be my girlfriend baby. the real deal, not this ‘friends with benefits’ shit. i need you, i need you like i need to breathe air or whatever they say. i just know… i just know that i’m in love with you and you’re where i belong, so will you make me the happiest man on this earth and allow me to be your boyfriend?” to your surprise he pulled out a small diamond ring. “now this, cost me my whole paycheck and more but it was overall worth it. and i think nobody deserves happiness more than you do.”

you cried pure happy tears. you threw yourself in his arms and cried. “i would love that! i want you to be mine!” jj captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. he poured his love and devotion into the kiss. “i love you so much.” jj muttered. “and i love you more maybank. always and forever.” with that, you leaned into the kiss more, celebrating your new love with the man you always dreamed of.

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taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen @sophand4n4 @kieeslove @chalahyung01 @bee-43 @superlegend216 @masongetinmybed @eddxemxnson @always-reading @maybankslover @leaseyes @glitterybombshell @slut4rafecameronn @sttaejoon-blog @imsiriuslyreal @coalicionees

a/n: lmk if you guys want a fic of them getting married (like a time skip 3 years later & they get married & have a child) but yeah lmk if you want that in a few days!

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here!

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#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jayj𓆉 #obx cast #jj maybank fic #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks jj #obx jj

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the-witty-pen-name · 2 days ago

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Everything that I Wanted (3)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; SMUT (piv sex; oral f receiving), angst, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (physical force; manipulation, coercion/guilting & isolation from peers); fighting/violence;

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours @losingmygrasponreality @fizzing-imagines - everyone for letting me yap & helping me!

PART ONE PART TWO

Stranger Things Masterlist

The ache that settled deep inside you festered in ways you never imagined before. As the weeks passed, your thoughts were consumed with Eddie and how it was becoming unbearable to not be around your best friend. You craved being surrounded by him like you used to be before. You wanted to be in his room, surrounded by his things and his mess. You wanted to smell his signature scent of cologne and weed with the hint of cigarette smoke that always lingered on his shirts.

You thought Billy would’ve been your be all, end all. But you were realizing there was so much more that you needed that he didn’t give to you. His attention was something that you began to feel like needed to be earned, and you had to lure him towards you- it made you feel like he was indifferent. He didn’t care if you were there at all. Everything felt like it revolved around Billy and you’d let yourself get lost in it. You were beginning to see the way the scale tipped.

The first time you’d dreamt about Eddie you thought it was a fluke. A side effect of the bad weed since you couldn’t buy (he never let you pay) from Eddie. You rationalized that the substance in your system was to blame. Until it happened again… and again… and you couldn’t explain them all away. You’d dream that he’d settle himself between the apex of your thighs, and stay there for what felt like hours- telling you how much he loved you. It was like everything Billy didn’t offer you, dream Eddie would make a reality.

It would always be roughly the same thing each time it had happened. You only remembered small glimpses: His bed with wrinkled sheets; his hands and the coolness of his rings on your skin; the image of his hands holding your thighs; his head between your legs and his curly hair looking wild.

Billy was none the wiser to your secret fantasies that you harbored for your best friend. His own defense mechanisms of locking himself away kept him from really being able to fully see how his actions were affecting you. It wasn’t that he didn’t care- it was that he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend, and he was so scared about losing you that he didn’t realize you’d been silently gaining the courage to move on. His tight grip would just cause you to slip from his grasp despite how hard he tried to keep the world out.

You’d been dating Billy for about two months and your mind was becoming more preoccupied with Eddie with each passing day. You became so vigilant- knowing when you could steal glances or a smile when Billy wasn’t looking. It felt like cheating. It was a thrill and you didn’t know why you couldn’t just cut the ties and break up with Billy. You wanted nothing more than to just run back into Eddie’s arms, be surrounded by your friends and go back to your old life. You were scared.

You were scared of how Billy would react. The next layer was that you were scared that after you broke up with Billy, your friends would want nothing to do with you. You can picture being turned away by Hellfire- banished for your crimes of treason. Gareth wouldn’t forgive you, the best friend that abandoned him. You couldn’t blame him. And Eddie, not only would he never forgive you- he’d reject you if you could ever tell him how you were beginning to feel. They’d have every right to hate you- for all you know they do hate you.

You’re not happy when you’re with Billy- not anymore, like you maybe were once. But leaving isn’t easy, still. The what-if’s plague your mind. Maybe being with Billy isn’t ideal right now, but it’s what you’ve come to know. Breaking up with him opens a box of so many unknowns and that thought itself also scares you. You’d be completely and utterly alone- left to your own devices.

You don’t remember how the argument started as you followed closely behind Billy, speed walking to catch up to him as he was storming to his car. He always did this- shut you out and leave whenever a fight got a little too real. The topic of Hellfire came up again, and Billy was pissed that after everything, you still wouldn’t just let it go. At this point, you had been yelling after him to come back and talk it through- everyone in the parking lot staring at the two of you instead of leaving immediately after school. You were too pent up to care. You were done. He was about to get in his car and drive off without you.

“Fine! You know what? I’m done!” You exclaim loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“What the fuck are you sayin?” Billy says, turning around to face you and slamming the car door- loudly. It was startling, the noise and you were surprised it didn’t fall off the car honestly. It made you wince- the confidence you had a few seconds ago completely evaporated.

“We’re over,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and you take a deep breath to try to keep up your strong front. Billy laughs, actually laughs, shaking his head and crossing his arms.

“You don’t mean that,” he says in disbelief. He’s silently waiting- holding his breath that you aren’t serious. He doesn’t let himself even think about the idea of losing you- it would be too much for him to bear. In his mind, you and him were an absolute truth. You’d made him feel and experience so much in such a short time- there’s no way you’d give it all up. He couldn’t see how he’d been pushing you away.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say, matter of factly. He spirals, and panics- his heart completely dropping into his stomach. If he was a different guy, with a different father, maybe Billy would’ve known how to fix this. He would know how to apologize, he would know to fall to his knees and beg for you, he would know how to be gentle and promise to do better. That’s not who he is- not yet. “I’m going,” you say, turning on your heels to leave him behind.

You can’t leave him. He needed you, wanted you too badly. He couldn’t let you just walk away. He strides over to you and grasps your arm. He’s too emotional to realize how tight his grip is on you, and he’s just so focused on keeping you from walking away so he can talk this out- he doesn’t realize at first how truly scared you look.

“Let me go,” you struggle against his grasp, but it’s like his brain doesn’t register what’s happening. He can’t retract his arm, or you’ll be gone forever. But then he sees your eyes, and he recognizes the look all too well. It’s in that moment, that Billy realizes that he’s becoming what he always swore he wouldn’t- he’s his father. Before Billy can even process the realization of this horrific truth, he’s suddenly on the ground, head to the pavement as he falls backwards.

Eddie had emerged out of the woods from behind the school just in time to witness the entire scene between you and Billy from a distance. He had his metal lunchbox tucked under his arm as he recounted the cash he just received from one of the football players. Tucking it away into his wallet, he hears yelling from the parking lot that pulls his attention. He sees a small crowd of people lingering and his curiosity gets the better of him. As he walks closer, it becomes apparent that he hears your voice- and you sound petrified.

He drops the tin somewhere mid stride and doesn’t even care as he pushes his way across the parking lot, running in between moving cars, shoving his way through cliques of students- it didn’t matter. All he could think about was getting to you. His eyes completely zero in on Billy’s white knuckled grip around your arm that he doesn’t even think. He’d more than passed his breaking point when it came to Billy.

It doesn’t even register to him that he swung until the crack when his fist came in contact with Billy’s face. His eyes widen in surprise as he watches Billy fall, and thankfully he doesn’t take you down with him. You watch in shock at the scene that folds out, tentatively taking a few steps back so you’re away from Billy.

Billy thinks his nose is broken and he can feel the blood dripping down his face. He laughs hysterically at the metallic taste of his own blood. He can’t believe he’s ended up here. You want nothing to do with him, the only person he’s maybe cared about is just gone- he can’t help but laugh at himself, but it makes him sound so sinister. Picking himself off, he ignores the way his skin burns from the contact it made with the pavement. He’d wanted an excuse to fight Eddie for a long time now, and he’s not passing up the chance now.

“You don’t want to fight me, freak,” Billy spits, wiping his face with his hand. Despite taking a hard punch, he’s still worked up and thinks he can take Eddie. He’s hungry for it. He doesn’t miss how you step behind Eddie for him to protect you, and it makes him absolutely livid.

He manages to take a few swings, and Eddie takes a punch to the gut that makes him take a few steps back. Billy manages to make a swift hit right to Eddie’s jaw, sending him practically spinning to the ground but Eddie’s able to catch himself in his fall, and recovers quickly.

An even larger crowd has begun to gather, a mix of people cheering for either boy. Some people cheer for Billy, egging him on and encouraging him for finally dealing with the Town Freak. Others applaud Eddie, ecstatic to see someone finally putting Billy in his place after his reign of terror. You’re frozen, shocked to see Eddie swoop in and defend you like he did. He didn’t hate you.

Eddie manages one more hit and it makes Billy collapse. He can’t get up right away and it’s like he’s lost all pride. Suddenly, he looks so small and for a brief moment Eddie almost pities him. He wipes the blood from his cut lip and just leaves Billy there, walking away- guiding you away from the scene.

“Are you okay?” He asks, out of breath. He’s so preoccupied with making sure you’re safe that he didn’t even seem to care about himself at that moment. He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you looked okay.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insist- and you were. Shaken up, of course- but you weren’t hurt. “But, Eddie you…”

“Don’t worry about me,” he chuckles. He leans down to whisper to you, “You should see the other guy.”

Your little giggle was enough to make Eddie’s heart swell and constrain against his chest. He couldn’t ever express to you how much he missed that sound, being the one to make you laugh. “I don’t want to see him anymore,” you admit softly, gazing up at Eddie. Your eyes trail over every part of his face, recommitting it all to memory.

Eddie glances over to where he left Billy, and he sees Tommy and Jason helping him up from the ground. They make eye contact briefly and he swears it almost looks like Billy could be- blinking back tears as he looks at you and the way you're looking at Eddie. He watches as Billy shakes his head and avoids your direction as he walks away from the scene.

Eddie smiles, looking back at you. Eddie was never the one to be the hero, but now? He feels like he can do anything. You smile, trying to read his expression. “Does this mean I can come back to Hellfire?” You ask, hopeful- biting your lip to hold back your smile. You can’t help but rock back and forth on your heels.

“Oh my god, yes,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I’m not even kidding, the campaign is in absolute shambles. We need you back to whip them into shape- it’s been absolutely pathetic.”

Eddie’s arm around you makes goosebumps rise on your skin. It’s like the reality of your situation has just come down on you all at once. Billy was gone, and you felt like you could finally breathe. And Eddie… your beautiful, sweet, wonderful Eddie is back next to you and its like everything makes sense again. It feels like you might be able to just pick up right where you left off- but neither one of you wants to go back to being just friends. Both of you secretly hope the other feels the same.

You bring your hands up to cup his face, and you look at where he’s hurt. A small cut on his eyebrow and his lip, and you’re sure he’s going to develop a black eye. God, was he always this pretty? The way his brown eyes look back at you with such a soft gaze makes you wonder how you could’ve ever looked anywhere else. Your thumb gently grazes his bottom lip, careful not to disturb the cut.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry,” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “Just for everything- for ditching you all, for blowing off plans. I threw everything away for some guy who I don’t even think really liked me. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I really thought any of it was a good idea. Then you, because you’re just so wonderful- stick your neck out for me and save me after I’ve treated you like shit- Fuck, Eds. I ruined absolutely everything… including this moment, because I should just shut up and kiss you.”

“Please,” he says with a soft smile, his voice hardly a whisper, and he rests his forehead against yours.

He meets you halfway, and you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

This. This was the moment you had been waiting for. It’s the all encompassing, sweeps you off your feet first kind of kiss that makes you feel like your body is just melting into him. It’s butterflies, fireworks, electricity… everything you’d convinced yourself wasn’t real. All of it was just fantasy. But it’s not- it’s everything. It’s so undeniably Eddie.

Your lips find a rhythm with his so easily, and you feel warmth through your whole body when you feel his arms wrap around you. His large hands on your back, gently pulling you in flush to him. Your arms wrap around his neck as the kiss deepens. You think you could stay here, tangled up with him like this forever if you could.

“I love you so much,” he says, rushed between fevered kisses. “I always have, sweetheart.” He caresses your cheek as he pulls away from the kiss- he needs to look at you. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you,” he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He genuinely means it. He can remember it so distinctly. It’s one of those memories that just never seems to fade no matter how much time has passed.

First day of his sophomore year, he’d put up flyers for Hellfire Club on the bulletin boards in the freshman hallways. Some of them had been torn down or defaced by whoever- maybe guys on the basketball team. He’d come back, putting up more- replacing the ones that had been messed up.

He saw you on the opposite end of the hallway, reading one of his flyers intently despite the moustache and monocle drawn on his logo. You were (and still are) the prettiest girl he’d ever seen- and it was enough to make him blush that you’d given your attention to something of his. He observed as your brow furrowed in concentration, and the way your nose scrunched as you squinted to read his messy handwriting. He assumed the worst- you thought it was weird, or maybe you were scared. He watched from a safe distance as you carefully peeled back the tape to pull it off the board, and you folded it to put in the front of your binder. When you and Gareth showed up to the next meeting, he was already completely smitten.

“I love you too,” you smile and reconnect your lips with his. Eddie’s back rests against the tree behind him and he pulls your flush against this body as he deepens the kiss. Now that you’ve kissed Eddie, you think it’s ruined you- kissing anyone else won’t ever feel as good as this. You’re so wrapped up in him it’s like everything else just fades away. The kiss escalates and you feel desperate to be even closer.

“Where’s your van?” You murmur, gently tugging on his hair, making him groan. His lips trail across the skin just under your ear, and you can hear his keys jangle in his hands. It makes you chuckle, and you can feel his smile against your skin. He interlocks his hand with yours, his keys in the other, and he leads you over to the van where it’s parked across the lot- most other cars already cleared out after the fight had ended.

“Ladies first,” he says dramatically as he opens the door to the back. You scoff playfully, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. Your heart tugs cause it was the part of Eddie you secretly missed the most. You duck your head as you crawl into the back, and he’s quick behind you.

He wraps you up in his arms and reconnects his lips to yours, and he gently lays you down on the floor of the van. Your hands cradle his face, pulling his body down to yours. You couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to be surrounded, completely encased in him. You’d missed so much of him- you needed to be as close to him as possible.

Eddie can’t even believe that you’re here. He’s imagined this moment so much he’s convinced he might’ve just slipped further into his fantasy that he can’t distinguish it from reality. But you’re real, and you’re here- with him. After months of complete and utter torture, it all feels like nothing when you’re kissing him like this. He’d been hoping to get you back, but he couldn’t have imagined you’d have ended up like this. It’s so much better than he’d ever dreamed.

“Eds..,” you sigh, as he kisses your neck. “Please…”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promises, his hands finding the hem of your shirt and yours push his jacket off his shoulders. He’s quick to shrug his jacket off, and you get distracted by the tattoos you can see peeking out from under his dark t-shirt. It totally inflates his ego, blush rising on his neck. Your head tilts, noticing one you don’t recognize picking out from the collar of his shirt.

“What’s that one?” You ask, tugging his shirt collar. “You got a new one?” You pout, looking back to him with wide eyes. “I wanna see…”

Eddie’s shirt is off his back in seconds.

There’s a new spider tattoo next to his zombie head. You bite your lip, your fingertips outlining it delicately. The feeling gives Eddie goosebumps. You’d seen Eddie shirtless before- countless times when the group would go swimming at the lake, or that one summer Grant’s family had the above ground pool, but it was never like this. Suddenly, your awkward best friend was gorgeous and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive.

His hands slide under the material of your shirt, lifting up slowly. You lift your arms for him. He moans, a pathetic whimper just at the mere sight of you. He dips down, kissing all of the exposed skin- starting with your navel all the way up your chest to your shoulder where he delicately pushes your bra strap down. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he marvels, toying with the strap as he kisses down the outline of your cups.

You’re feeling so desperate for him, and you push off your jeans so now you’re just in your bra and panties. You momentarily regret for the briefest of moments that they don’t match, but he’s looking at you so intensely that you don’t think he even cares as his eyes rake over your body. Your skin feels like it's on fire under his heavy gaze, and you feel so needy that you’re involuntarily bucking your hips up into him, grinding against the bulge in his jeans. He kisses you again feverishly, his hand holding the back of your neck and the coldness of his rings sooth the hotness of your skin.

“Eds,” you whine, not even fully sure what you're asking for as you gently tug his hair again- just to hear the noises that rumble deep from the back of his throat. It’s addicting.

“Sweetheart, please..,” Eddie pulls away to kiss all over your body again, all the way down to the waistband of your panties. He kisses and licks along the waistband, “Can I?” Fuck yes.

“Fuck, Eds- god yes,” you nod.

You’re surprised when he hones in on the little wet spot, pressing a kiss right there over the fabric. He smirks when it makes you shiver, he’s been fantasizing for so long to be just where he is right now. He’s planning to spend so much time worshipping you, showing you just how fucking much he loves you- making up for all the time wasted by not telling you how he felt sooner.

He slides the panties down your legs, kissing down your thighs, your calves, your ankle before resting your legs over his shoulders. He peppers kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t miss that your panties were discreetly slid into the back pocket of his jeans. You’ll tease him later, when you’re less distracted by the way his hair tickles your skin. Right now, you’re so overwhelmed by how good he feels that you’re already panting.

Eddie doesn’t really have any experience- that’s to say, he has none. But, he’s imagined all the ways he wants to make you feel good for so long and he’s so eager to please. He licks at your folds, kissing your wetness- his nose pushing into your clit at just the perfect angle that it makes you grip at his hair for some sense of stability. You throw your head back in pleasure and his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you in place for him. He’s eating you like a man starved and your moans are as equally depraved.

He doesn’t stop, even when you warn him that you're close- he just keeps at the same pace, working you through your first orgasm. He looks up grinning, your slick completely coating his mouth and chin. It’s quite a sight. You’re shaking, coming down from your high- Eddie kissing your thighs and hips, praising you and whispering sweet nothings. You can see his obvious tent at the front of his jeans which somehow look tighter than when he started. He climbs back on top of you to reconnect your lips in a searing kiss, and your hands make quick work of palming him through his jeans. He whimpers against your lips, bucking into your hand desperately seeking more friction.

“Why don’t you take these-”

Eddie’s kicking off his jeans before you even manage to finish your sentence, and it makes you giggle at how eager he is. It’s endearing, and it makes you feel so wanted- so desirable. It’s dizzying. His boxers remain as he surges forward to kiss you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as he fumbles with your bra. It takes him a few tries, embarrassed by his clumsiness, he buries his face in your neck as he struggles with the small clasps.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, before finally managing to manage the hooks open. “Thank fuck,” he sighs, kissing your shoulder. “That would’ve been embarrassing,” he jokes, making you smile. You let the straps fall down your shoulders and Eddie pulls it off- tossing it somewhere. Who cares where. His eyes nearly bug out of his head. Your face feels warm, and you move to hide your face in your hands. Eddie is practically drooling. You’re perfect- just like he always fucking knew you would be.

You smile up at him, and he swears he feels his heart might beat out of his chest. So many nights he imagined you here, under him, looking at him just like how you’re looking at him now. God, he thinks he’s still dreaming. Your hands tug gently at the waistband of his boxers and he winks at you. He pulls them down, kicking them off his legs and your eyes widen.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp, staring hungrily at his cock.

“Bigger than Billy?” he teases you and you swat his arm. “I’m sorry,” he laughs, pushing your hair out of your face, “I’m only kidding.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly. “You’re gonna forget all about him by the time I’m done with you, sweetheart.”

“Eddie- I never slept with Billy,” you admit softly, cradling his face in the palm of your hand. “I mean- we did stuff,” you wince for a second at your own awkwardness, “But- yeah, we never did this… I want you to be my first, Eds.”

Eddie melts at your words. He feels like his entire body is flushed. Fuck, okay. He is going to be your first. You want to lose your virginity to him right now in his van- with him. You, his best friend- the star of all his dirty fantasies and the love of his life- you are picking him too. He is trying so hard to think about literally anything else except this to keep from finishing the second he pushes his cock into you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, kissing you gently. You kiss him back, matching his pace- letting him take the lead. “Um,” he pulls away reluctantly, “One sec-”

You sit up on your elbows and watch as he riffles through his pants to find his wallet- and he just can’t believe he’s finally using the condom he’s been carrying around. You bite your lip, holding back a smile. He slides it on, and leans forward- kissing you again, and it’s slow and romantic and it makes your brain cloudy with how good it feels.

You feel so full when he pushes into you, and you gasp as the sensation. God, he felt so amazing as he stretched you out with his cock. You both take a second, needing to adjust to the feeling. He begins to move his hips when you let him know you're ready, finding a rhythm that works for the two of you.

It’s romantic and a little clumsy- but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close to you and your hands hold onto his shoulders. Your face twists in pleasure when he finds the perfect pace, hitting your g spot perfectly. He’s whispering sweet nothings, praising you for how well you’re doing, for how good you feel- completely and utterly obsessed with how you’re taking his cock.

“So pretty,” he praises, his fingertips grazing your nipples- squeezing gently, teasing you as he fucks into you. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart- fuck.”

“Eddie, baby- I’m so close,” you whine, overly sensitive from your first orgasm. He keeps his pace, his thumb rubbing your clit, coaxing your orgasm from you nice and gentle. He’s doing his best to keep himself from finishing- he needs you to cum again for him first.

When you squeeze his cock, and your orgasm pulses through your whole body, Eddie can’t hold off another second. With his final thrusts, he’s finishing into the condom- riding out his high. He never imagined it would ever feel that good. Fuck, he loved you so much.

He ties off the condom and tosses it in the trash bag. He collapses next to you, kissing you gently- pulling you in close to his chest. “I love you,” he mumbles into your hair, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too,” you sigh, contently, resting your head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Do you even know how long I’ve wanted that- how long I’ve been in love with you?” Eddie asks, tracing shapes on your bare skin absentmindedly. “Sweetheart you have no idea how many fantasies of mine we just played out,” he chuckles, reaching for his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

“We’ll have to play out some more later,” you tease, kissing his cheek as he lights up. He groans, holding the cigarette away from you so he can kiss you again.

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red@supersecretsamm @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e @melvin333 @mmmunson @daryldixonswifesworld

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startaegi · 13 hours ago

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CHAPTER 005 . . .

in which namgyu breaks the heart of his childhood sweetheart and tries to piece it back together again while fighting death.

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Dinner was served after their near-death experience. A lunchbox, one which reminded you of your school days, and a bottle of water. You couldn't bring yourself to open the lid to see inside, the sight of death turned your stomach, and eating was the last thing you wanted to do.

You did your best to avoid Namgyu. After the piggy bank had been filled, the crowd quickly swallowed you in, causing you to lose the man in the process, which you were grateful for. However, it seemed he was always only a few steps away no matter where you turned, his voice still pleading out to you. It was a miracle his throat wasn't sore.

"Can you stop walking away from me and just listen?" He asked after you, footsteps quick to catch up.

You refrained from throwing the water and lunchbox at his face, "I don't care what you have to say" You said harshly. "Stop following me"

Your cold words hurt to say and cut even more when the sadness settled in his eyes but right now was not the time to be reliving your break up, to be trying to fix what had happened, you had to focus on survival if it meant making it out of this place alive, and then maybe only then would you consider hearing him out.

"Y/N, please," he said again. If it had been any other disagreement in which Namgyu was high, his attitude would have become more aggressive long before now. But sober Namgyu was different. He was clingy, caring, and always aware of his words and how they affected others. That was the Namgyu you missed.

His hand reached out for your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks, his fingers clutching the fabric of your zipper. You sucked in a breath of air, pulling yourself together, you turned to face him. "Namgyu," You replied softly. "Can we please not do this now?"

"But-" He started but was interrupted.

"Please," You said again. It wasn't like you to show your vulnerable side, growing up you were taught to suppress those emotions to the point it made you uncomfortable when doing so. Namgyu had been the only person you felt safe enough with dropping those walls, letting him see the side of you, you hid from the world.

You could see the wheels in his brain turning, his inner self debating if he should respect your boundaries or continue harassing you. In the end, he dropped his hand, a look of defeat on his face. "I'm not done with you," He said but left it at that, taking his food and water, and walking off to find his friend.

You finally felt your bones loosen, a sense of relief washing over you. You held a tight grip on the water bottle in your hand, eyes glued to the floor. Not paying attention to your surroundings, too caught up in your own world, you shortly walked face-first into something hard.

"Everything okay?"

You looked up, shaking the overwhelming thoughts from your head. The something had been someone. A boy you vaguely recognised, your brain unsure where to pinpoint his face. You opened your mouth to reply when he quickly interjected.

"Oh wait, it's you," He said, a cheerful tone in his voice. "I thought I recognised you earlier."

You looked from his face to his chest, player 388, and back again. You were still racking your brain to where you had seen him when he smiled widely, it reaching the corners of his eyes and suddenly it clicked. He was the stranger who had offered you kindness on a night you longed to forget. Although a traumatic memory you would always remember his goodwill, it was a reminder there was still good left in the world.

You smiled, fast to apologise, "I'm so sorry, that night was a blur it took a second to remember" You awkwardly laughed.

He waved his hands dismissing you, "I hardly remember myself," You knew he was probably lying but like that night he was conscious of not making you uncomfortable. "You sure you're okay?"

You nodded in reply, "Yeah, it's okay I know him" You smiled again in hopes of convincing him. "Thank you for that night, I probably came across as rude but I really appreciated what you did, your kindness stayed with me for a long time"

His smile hadn't left his face. "You don't have to thank me," He said honestly then continued. "And you weren't rude at all, I just hoped you made it home safely and I'm glad to see you did"

"Alive and well" You laughed, the first genuine laugh in a long time.

"Do you want to come sit with me?" he questioned, pointing to an empty bed behind him. "Whoever he is is still watching you"

You turned to face the direction in which 388 was looking. Truth be told Namgyu had his eyes, hooded and angry, directed right at you. Beside him stood player 230, a playful expression on his face, he lifted a hand to wave in your direction.

You rolled your eyes, turning to face player 388 again and nodded, "I'd like that, thank you." It wouldn't hurt to make an ally when you could.

He nodded, leading you to his bunk, "Daeho," He introduced himself. "I would say I'm happy to see you but," A beat of silence later and you both fell into quiet laughter.

"Y/N," You finally replied.

"Nice to officially meet you"

You both fell into comfortable conversation, sharing your reasons for participating in the games and whatever other idle chat came to mind. Daeho ate his meal with ease or so it seemed. You could sense from his restless limbs and wandering eyes; that every so often gazed for too long on the guns gripped against the guard's chest, that there was something deeper going on. He wasn't as brave as he was leading you to believe.

A crowd formed below Daeho's bunk, player 001 to the center, and countless other players gathered behind him. You moved to the left for a better view, your sight soon set on player 456, the same one who informed them only hours before that he had been in this same room before. He had played these deadly games, and not only did he come out alive he was the only one to do so.

"You said you've played these games," Player 001 said, approaching the past winner. He looked to the ground, a hint of sadness on his face before 001 continued. "I pressed the O button because of you"

You felt the weight of the badge against your chest at his words. A giant O on a blue patch stuck out against your green zipper. The decision hadn't been a difficult one in the end. You were either going to leave this place with little to no money and most likely end up dead at the hands of loan sharks or you would play again to win just enough to get them off your back and pray to any god listening that you wouldn't be leaving in a coffin.

"Honestly, I was scared and I wanted to quit and leave but you made me think maybe I could play just one more game"

456's earlier speech also gave you a sense of hope and like 001 was also the reason you found pressing the O button easier but now looking at his saddened expression you couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"You know which game's next, don't you?" He asked. The crowd huddled closer in hopes of a clue, you and Daeho subconsciously following them, you both almost falling from the bunk to get a closer listen.

"That's right," The man beside 456 said, turning to face him. "You're a previous winner, so you should know. What are we playing next?"

The silence stretched for what felt like minutes, "The second game," He started. "Was Dalgona"

Daeho abruptly shot up, his knees knocking against yours as he leaned forward within player 456's earshot, "Dalgona? The sugar candy with a shape you can carve out?" He asked through a mouthful of food.

456 nodded, "Yeah, we had to choose one of the four shapes and carve it out"

It sounded easy enough but timed and with guards holding guns to their heads, you knew it would be anything but.

"Four shapes? Which was the easiest one?"

He answered quickly, "Triangle"

As if player 390 could hear your thoughts he asked, "Which was the hardest one?"

"Umbrella?"

"Umbrella?" 001 asked in disbelief. "Some people chose umbrella? Those unlucky bastards must have bitten the dust"

You felt Daeho's presence close in on you, his voice soft as he whispered, "Don't choose the umbrella"

It was an obvious statement. Of course, you weren't going to pick the umbrella but Daeho's worried face sent a smile to yours. It was nice to be in the presence of someone who genuinely seemed to care.

You both continued to eavesdrop, exchanging glances every so often. Daeho was scraping at his lunch box after rejecting your offer to take yours. You watched as he scooped up the last pieces of rice and then forced yours into his hand. He shook his head, pushing it away from his grasp but you weren’t backing down. It became a game of tug-of-war, the lunchbox thrusting between both your hands before he finally accepted it. He whispered a graceful thank you placing it beside him.

Daeho shuffled forward on the bunk, his white shoes soon hitting the floor with a thud. He made himself known to the three men sat below, "He's right, sirs" He quickly wiped the rice from his face letting out an exhale. "We have to stick together, I'll be with you all the way, my friend here too" Daeho finished, pointing at you.

You suddenly felt uncomfortable under the stare of the four men but waved gently in their direction.

"Who are you?" Player 390 asked.

"I'm Daeho. Kang Daeho" He responded, reaching out a hand to shake but left ignored.

"Oh, Daeho-ssi"

Daeho nodded, hand still stretched, "Yeah" He shortly realised no one would respond, dropping his hands to his side he continued speaking, "Earlier during the game, Mr 456 here was like 'Freeze!' and I became his fan" You covered your mouth in hopes of silencing the laughter bubbling up your throat. "I'd like to get to know you, sirs. Please give me the chance"

He raised his left arm mimicking player 456 during red light green light when 390 approached him, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal a tattoo.

"You were in the Marines?"

"Yes, why?"

"Class number?"

Daeho chuckled, all signs of laughter soon wiping from his face when player 390 removed his zipper to reveal a matching tattoo. "Victory at all costs!" Daeho saluted as seriously as his days in the Marines.

"At ease" the other man saluted back.

You watched with a sense of sorrow. You thought back to the days of Namgyu's mandatory enlistment, the circles around his eyes gradually became darker with each visit, and by the end of the 18 months, he was a shell of his former self. You saw that period of his life; alongside everything else that added to his trauma, as the person Namgyu was today. In that sense, it made it difficult to hate him.

The day passed by quickly, the hours blending seamlessly together. The night, however, the hours seemed drawn out, the silence and darkness of the room adding to the unease. You lay on your side, hands tucked under your cheek, your limbs wrapped in a blanket as if it would add a layer of safety. Although your eyes were shut you could still feel his stare. To anyone else, it would have been unnerving but you felt a sense of comfort.

You blinked them open, falling sight on Namgyu who was also looking back at you. Earlier in the night he not so kindly forced the man who had been assigned the bunk to move. Happily shuffling himself under the covers, innocently smiling at you as he did so. Now, he was still, face solemn as he stared back.

He mouthed, "Go to sleep"

You didn't make a move to speak or reach out to him but it was like he understood.

"I'm here, nothing will happen to you" He mouthed again, the piggy bank screwed to the ceiling gave you just enough light to understand.

You were silent, fighting against yourself to not give in to him, until he pulled a hand from under the blanket wrapped around him, reaching his fingers ever so slightly to the edge of his bunk, as if they could brush against you, "You should sleep too" You whispered.

He shook his head, "I'm okay, get some sleep."

You reluctantly shut your eyes, pulling the blanket to your chin and curling into a fetal position. Your mind flashed with memories of the earlier day, you screwed your eyes together wishing them away when you heard a whisper, so quiet you could barely make it out.

"I love you"

previous next masterlist playlist

notes . . . im so so sorry this took me so long to write and i feel like literally nothing happened??? next chapter will be the next game so that should be more exciting!! thank u for staying around to read even with my slow updates <3

taglist . . . @chrisstyle @seonghwasslytherin @princessofthepuppets @sollum @okaycharr @hoshisgalaxy @alexatthedisco @swoofllia @chxrrybomb22 @drkitten226 @ryvampr @bbyjjunie @learninglinesintherainn @smally97 @sft-core @enterplanettelex @prettywhenicry4 @zannispppp @juhdoche @nuttybeans @wagawana @xtracy-xd7 @slxtgirl69 @ihrthoney @zella-74 @ancientdarko @loverzxi @boomzen @godly-sinsx @sirenkinnie @skibidirizzzlerrrr @come-as-you-are-111 @mochimitsuri @lavboat01 @preppyfella @diaboliku-loversu @mimipolo @ourseasone @loveeblob @ritapitmargarita @xoxolakeyah @mysatnin @pearforabear @deathbytsubaki (let me know if you wanna be added)

#nam gyu x reader #namgyu x reader #player 124 x reader #namgyu x fem reader #player 124 #namgyu x y/n #namgyu x you #squid game x fem reader #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #player 124 x fem reader #player 124 x you #player 124 x y/n

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lynzishell · 2 days ago

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Transcript and more puppy pics below the cut:

Megan: I thought you weren’t getting a dog. Asher: I mean, did anyone really believe that? Megan: [laughs] No, but I didn’t expect you’d come home with three. Asher: Well, the black one is Phoenix’s. Phoenix: Is it okay if he stays here, just for tonight? I want to surprise Aspen at her party tomorrow. Megan: Sure. It’s a good thing we have a quiet house tonight.

Asher: What do you mean? Megan: Dad’s working late and Spencer is sleeping over at a friend’s house. And I assume Iris is taking the opportunity to stay with her boyfriend. Asher: Did she finally tell you about him? Megan: No, but you just did.

Asher: Rude. You cannot tell her I said anything. Megan: Don’t worry. It’s not like she’s been subtle. Asher: I guess. I just wish she’d bring him around, so I know whether to be worried or happy for her. Megan: You two… always so protective of each other. It’s sweet. Asher: Yeah, well, I have reason to be. Megan: Maybe, but she’s been quite happy lately, so let’s assume the best for now. And introduce me to these babies.

Asher: Okay, so these two are ours. The little singer over there is called Pluto.

Asher: And this happy girl is called Pixel.

Asher: Phoenix’ doesn’t have a name yet. He wants Aspen to help name him, so we’ve just been calling him Pup in the meantime.

Megan: You’re certainly going to have your hands full tonight. I’ll put out some food; I assume you brought some home with you. Asher: It’s up on the porch. Atlas: I’ll get it.

Phoenix: Maybe I should’ve asked this before getting the dog, but is there any chance I can talk you into dog sitting for a week this fall? Asher: Yeah, of course. You guys taking a trip or something? Phoenix: I’m taking Dawn and Aspen to Chestnut Ridge.

Asher: [gasping dramatically] Really? What changed your mind? Phoenix: Some asshole called me out for being stubborn, and I decided he wasn’t completely wrong. Asher: This asshole sounds very wise… AND good looking. Phoenix: Don’t push it.

Phoenix: But I realized that I need to decide if I’m going to give him a real chance or not, and if I am, then I need to give him the opportunity to show me he’s really changed, that I can trust him. Asher: I think this will be really good. And I know it isn’t easy…

Asher: I’m proud of you. Phoenix: Please don’t make this weird. Asher: So, no hug then?

Phoenix: Thank you. But also, if he fucks up and hurts my family, I’m holding you personally responsible. Asher: Well, that’s not fair, I don’t even know the guy. I’m not vouching for him. Phoenix: Too late. Asher: [laughs] Whatever. Get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow.

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musingsofmajesty · 2 days ago

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𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈𝐈

summary one night when you’re all alone, you need Eddie in a way you never have before. He’s more than happy to be a shoulder to lean on—and a canvas for your restless fingers to trace | fluff, mild hurt/comfort | wc 1.2k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

Lilac, baby blue, red, sheer pink. One day in the library, while you're helping him with an overdue project for biology, Eddie realizes he’s been keeping track of all the colors you’ve painted your nails.

You stop in the middle of cutting out a construction paper mitochondrion when you catch his gaze lingering on your hands. He offers an apologetic smile, but a smirk pulls at your lips. “It’s okay," you say. "I stare at you all the time too.”

As his cheeks warm, he chuckles and returns to gluing a nucleus into the cytoplasm. Without looking up, he says, “You’ve just never painted your nails that color.”

He can sense your gaze return to him. "Sage," he says. "It’s nice.” He finally looks up and finds you with that familiar sparkle in your eyes.

“Yeah? You like it?” You extend your hand his way so he can get a better look.

He takes your hand in his and brushes his thumb over your fingers. “Looks pretty on you,” he says.

“What about me?” you can’t help but lilt next. “Am I pretty too?”

Rather than answering right away, he takes you in. There’s a depth to the softness in his gaze that almost makes you want to turn away in fear he’d see right through you. See that you are falling and falling fast.

“The prettiest,” he says, low and sure. Like a truth cemented long ago.

A week later, there’s a chill in the air today even though the sun shines in the sky. Along with the fire alarm, the buzz of chatter lingers in the air as all Hawkins High files outside for the drill. Despite the sea of students and staff, you manage to find just the boy you’re looking for. It helps that you’d recognize his lovely head of curls anywhere. All Robin can do is roll her eyes in fondness as you disappear.

Eddie doesn’t hear you walk up behind him, but turns around when you tap his shoulder. The curious furrow between his brows smooths in the wake of your sweet smile. “How’d you find me?” he asks with a soft, impressed chuckle.

“Magic.” You wiggle your fingers in front of his face with a flourish. “Why’d they have to choose the coldest day of the week?”

Eddie takes your hands in his and blows into them. Maybe it’s the way his larger hands cocoon yours, or the simple thought behind the gesture, but it feels way too lovely. Enough to make pleasant, light flutters arise in your chest. Neither of you mind the curious eyes that drift your way.

Your voice drops lower as you say, “We should leave.”

“Now?”

“Yeah…” You bite your lip to keep from smiling wider.

“And go where?” he asks as a small thrill stirs inside him.

“Anywhere we want, silly,” you say.

You’d go anywhere with him. Do anything. It was so easy to be with him that it was all you ever wanted to do these days. If you’d told yourself that three years ago, you never would’ve believed it. You’d only ever seen him from afar. In the hallways in his band tees and funky jeans, at lunch with an unchanging group of friends, going to the drama room after dismissal.

There was something about the reserved way he carried himself in the moments that he was alone that drew you in. You’d gathered that he was well-mannered and kind. Sweet was the word everyone seemed to use. He lived a modest life out in Forest Hills with his hardworking uncle.

You don’t know why, then, it had taken you nearly four years to make a move.

Maybe it was the fear that you’d be too much. You knew everybody who was somebody at Hawkins High even though you kept your inner circle small. You always ran for student a council position when it came time for elections. There was seldom a party or sports game you missed, even if it was only to pop in for a little while.

But you weren’t too much. You could never be too much for him.

There comes a night, as Eddie strums his guitar in his bedroom, that the phone rings.

“Hey, kid!” Uncle Wayne calls out. “It’s for you.”

The older man, dressed for his night shift at the plant, bids Eddie goodbye after handing him the phone.

“Hello?”

“Teddy…” you murmur. You don’t sound like yourself. There’s a slight waver to your voice that makes a worried chill run through him. “Yeah, I’m here.” Thenhis voice gets soft and cautious, like he’s talking to a scared child, “What’s wrong?”

“I…I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. Not when he can hear your anxiety. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks carefully. “You can talk to me.” He’s fully prepared to stay up as long as you need.

But you remain quiet, so he tries something else: “Do you wanna come over?”

“Please?” you murmur. Because you can’t stop thinking about the future. The fact that graduation was a few months away. That prom, finals, and end-of-semester projects were due to start piling up fast within the coming weeks. It was the end of one of the most transformative periods of your life and the beginning of one you couldn’t even begin to conceptualize.

You soon find yourself curled up next to Eddie on his couch. “It’s just been so much lately,” you tell him, reaching out to absentmindedly play with his fingers.“And I know it’s stupid to feel this way since we’ve barely even started our lives...”

A brief silence stretches before Eddie disagrees,“We’ve started something.” He meets your gaze. “You’re not wrong for feeling the way you feel,” he continues. “So much is changing.”

You let your fingertips absentmindedly drift further up to trace bat tattoos on his forearm. Eddie’s watches as tingles spread up his arm. Your sage nail polish is chipped.

“So much,” you agree in murmur. Your fingers trail back down his arm, all the way to his palm that he turns upward for you. You trace the lines there, wondering what stories they hold. What fates they write out that you don’t have the insight to decipher.

Eddie swallows. “But maybe that’s a good thing. The change, he says, then amends, “We can make it good.”

Somehow it sounds possible coming from his lips. You raise his palm to your lips and place a gentle kiss against the callused skin.

You eventually lose track of how long you’ve been over, but it’s almost midnight. The TV glows with reruns of Happy Days, and your eyelids are getting heavy. He continues to brush gentle circles with his fingers over your shoulder, where he has draped his arm behind you across the couch.

“Hey, Eddie,” you sit up so you can look into his eyes. “Thanks for this.”

He offers a small smile. “Of course. Anytime,” he says, his voice a little rougher with tiredness. “I like having you over.”

Warmth blooms through you. “Careful,” you warn gently. “I might not ever leave.”

Eddie chuckles, but the thought doesn’t come close to bothering him. Then you get a nervous look about you as you pull your lower lip between your teeth. “Do you think I could maybe spend the night?”

He remains quiet not from the nature of the question, but from the fact it’s being asked. A peculiar, but pleasant feeling flutters in his chest.

"Sure," he finally answers.

Thanks for reading! All likes comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all! ♡

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson headcannon #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

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wannabe-fic-writer · 22 hours ago

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Be Mine - Chapter 1

Summary: A long day of work turns out better than you expected it would.

Warnings: Minor Language, Partial Nudity, Sexual Themes

* * * * * * *

The car door shuts with a loud slam, the sleek black sedan slightly shaking from the force of your actions. With a huff and a sigh, you slouch in your seat, reaching a hand up to rub your temples.

From the front seat, your driver/bodyguard looks through the rearview mirror. Blue eyes take in your stressed and agitated state, a slightly amused smirk pulls at his lips.

“Everything alright there boss?”

You sigh heavily again,“ do I look like everything is alright Steven?”

The blonde man snorts and laughs, pulling away from the curb and into New York traffic.

“Belova give you a hard time?” He asks with a chuckle, making his way to your next destination.

“Every damn time.” Is your reply, focus shifting to the stacks of folders beside you. Tossing the one labeled “Belova” aside, you pick up the next one.

By the time you’re done reading through financial reports and new staff profiles, Steve has pulled into the lot of your next stop.

“Turn her off, I know you have a reason to come in.” You tell him while tucking your files away and getting out.

With a nod, Steve shuts the car off and follows after you. Together you head up the sidewalk to the club. ‘Red Room’ is displayed in red neon lights above the door. In your opinion, the neon lights are pretty tacky but with the building being so nondescript and easily missed, especially on this street, the sign attracts the attention it needs to.

Steve is checking over his shoulder subconsciously all the way to the door. The bouncer simply nods to the two of you and lets you in.

The club lights are dim, save for the two lights pointed directly at the stage, strobing in time with the music.

It’s good to see the club packed, even better to see the money raining from thrown hands. Drinks are flowing and the scantily clad bartenders are receiving more than decent enough tips.

“Boss.” Steve’s voice cuts through the music and draws your attention to him, where he nods forward.

Standing at the door leading to the office and staff rooms is one of your most trusted advisors and businessmen.

You approach with a stoic expression,“ Barnes.”

His face matches yours as he nods,“ Y/ln.”

The two of you, followed by Steve, walk into the back. As always the man leads you to his office where he pulls out three beers and passes them out.

Your hard exterior sags a little as you relax in the private setting. Steve is quick to let a smile form on his face as he fully takes in the brunette man you’re with. They share a smile, then a kiss before you all settle around the desk.

“Alright alright, business then pleasure.” You say while setting your bottle on the desk.

Both men nod, doing the same, then Bucky interlocks his fingers on the desk. His eyes lock with yours, business now written across his features.

“I’ve read over your reports.” Your pause would make most of your other associates sweat but Bucky is confident in his business and you’ve worked together too long for him to not know your tells.“ I’m not disappointed. Everything is in order and over recent months you’ve tripled revenue. On both ends. I really have nothing to add, you run a tight ship and you always have.”

“Oh? A compliment within praise, you in a good mood?”

“I just came from Yelena’s,” you say which elicits a snort and laugh from both men,“ I’m far from in a good mood. But-” a sliver of a smile tugs at your lips,“ you’re my friend and a damn good colleague so there’s no reason to lie or beat around the bush.”

He hums, tipping his head in a nod.“ I appreciate it boss, truly.” A smile plays on his lips as well.

From there, he pulls out a fairly thick folder and for the next hour you both go over the contents of it, comparing his books with yours and ensuring everything is in order. Another thirty or so minutes are spent going over details for the new hires and with that taken care of, the majority of your work is done.

Releasing a deep breath, you grab the new beer bottle off the desk, having finished the first while working, and the shoulders of both men drop as they copy the action of sipping their drinks.“ I’d like to see the new girls,” your gaze raises to meet Bucky’s,“ not that I don’t trust your judgment but your tastes are more versed when it comes to the other team.” You teasingly nod towards the man’s partner sitting beside you.

Steve and Bucky chuckle, then the brunette rises with a check of his watch.“ I believe one of them is about to go on now.” With a hand gestured towards the door, he leads the way back out to the main space.

The lights in the place have shifted to a low intimidating red color, slow instrumental music begins to play, and the spotlights point directly at the golden pole on stage.

You hear the clicking of heels before you see anyone. A silhouette appears from the left stage entrance and you find yourself watching with slight intrigue.

You’re used to acts like this from the, for lack of a better term, veterans who work here. But this is a new girl and she seems to have already become a fan favorite and she’s good enough to have been given a special show.

With an anticipatory pause in the music, the woman steps into the light. Not fully, at first all you get is a view of seeming miles of smooth milky skin as her foot steps forward, the light shining on her leg.

A hand follows, slender fingers trailing from ankle to thigh in a way that makes every man in sight holler.

To you, the noise around fades out as she finally puts herself in the spotlight.

Smooth milky skin continues, it dips and curves in all the right places, almost completely on display thanks to the barely there emerald green bra and panty set. It’s lacey, the intricate patterns highlighting the most intimate parts of her. There’s very little left to the imagination and the desire to uncover the rest rises in you.

It’s almost startling when your gaze lands on her face. Striking green eyes are looking into yours already, perfect cheekbones and a pretty jawline framed by fiery red hair. Her face, you find, is even more gorgeous than her body.

A hand on your shoulder pulls you from your near trance-like state. It’s Steve who meets your eye, brows knitted in worry.

You give a dismissive look, letting him know you’re fine. So he jabs a thumb in the direction behind him, you lean forward to see Bucky back over by the door now accompanied by a familiar dark haired woman.

Glancing back to the stage, you catch sight of the redhead as she arches her back away from the pole, forming a shape reminiscent of Cupid’s bow, and meets your eye. It takes every ounce of willpower to tear your gaze away and head back down the hallway towards Bucky.

“Melina.” You greet, leaning in to kiss both of the woman’s cheeks.

She returns the gesture, hands on your arms gently squeezing.“ It’s good to see you, Y/n.” Her accent drips over her words like honey and it sounds just as smooth.“ I was told you wanted to meet the girls.”

Bucky lets you pass, both he and Steve staying behind as you follow the older woman down the hall to the dressing room, but you don’t miss the way they slip into Bucky’s office a second later.

The moment you step inside you’re met with the sight of naked and half naked women. They all vary in appearance, but each one is beautiful as is expected in this business.

Melina calls the names of a number of women and they all approach. It’s clear they know you’re important, each one smiling seductively and trying to put their best assets on display.

“I trust that they’re all good.” You look away disinterestedly, focusing on Melina instead.“ And that they’ve been taken care of?”

“Of course.” Melina says, reaching out to fix a curl on one of the girls’ heads.

The majority of the women who work here were found by Melina. She started working for you after leaving a place that horribly mistreated her and she was able to find girls in positions like the one she was in and, with your help, give them something better.

After being vetted by Bucky and Melina, the women were taken to the penthouse Melina lives in. There, she takes care of them however they need and as long as they need. As long as they have the skill for it, they’re given a job here where they’re paid enough to start standing on their own two feet.

“The woman on stage-” you begin in hopes of learning more about the mysterious redhead.

“Natasha.” She tells you.

With a hum, you nod.“ She’s a little older than the girls you usually bring in.”

“Mhm. I’ve known her for years, I couldn’t help her before and I couldn’t find her after I had the means to.” The woman explains, furthering your curiosity.“ A few weeks ago we ran into each other. Seemed okay but she wanted out of the organization she was with.”

Speaking of her seems to make her appear.

Your eyes follow her as she walks in, taking in every one of her facial features now that you can see them clearer. Her plum shaped cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, the faint wrinkles between her eyebrows, and the small knick just below her hairline.

Her red hair flows down her back in waves and draws your attention to the tattoo on her back: roses and a lamb.

“Natasha.” Melina calls, the woman looks over and smiles.

When she comes closer, she and Melina share a hug and you can sense their relationship is more than the usual one between Melina and the girls.

“This is Miss Y/ln,” Melina introduces.“ She owns the club.”

Your reply of,“ please call me Y/n,” is accompanied by the outstretching of your hand.

Natasha eyes the action, then looks back at Melina without sparring you a glance.“ I thought Mr. Barnes owned the club.”

“He might as well,” you say before Melina responds, getting the redhead to look at you.“ Bucky does all the heavy lifting so to speak, my name just goes on the paperwork.”

That at least warrants you a change of expression, her stoicism replaced by the slightest frown. You smirk at that, happy for any reaction at all.

“I’ve never met a woman whose-”

“Ass looks like mine? Whose tits stand up so perky?” She attempts to finish for you, clearly very fed up with the kind of compliment she thinks you’ll give.

Melina frowns at the younger woman, a hiss of her name escaping her lips.

You remain amused, a raised eyebrow expressing as much.“ Whose eyes are quite as alluring. I’ve seen some of the rarest gems in the world and their beauty pales in comparison to that of your eyes.”

Her jaw slackens ever so slightly, eyes widening a fraction. She schools her expression just as quickly as it came.“ How often do you use that line?”

“I’ll have you know, that was the first time. Or did you miss the ‘never met’ part?” The playfully sarcastic tone of your voice makes her lips quirk into the smallest of smirks, green eyes trailing over your form immediately after.

Before she can give a response, you turn to the brunette at your side.“ Melina, I look forward to seeing you again, hopefully soon.”

“As do I.” She reaches up on her toes and kisses your cheek before you look at Natasha,“ have a good evening Natasha, it was a pleasure meeting you,” you then turn and leave.

With a bye to Bucky you’re out of the club, sliding into the back seat of your car and shredding the black blazer from your body.

“To the bar?” Steve asks.

“God please.” You huff, slouching in your seat.

Steve nods and pulls off, taking a familiar route to the bar you frequent.

Today has been insanely busy and you need a drink desperately. Then again, no one said it would be easy running one of the most influential organizations in Manhattan.

Being in the mob seemed so dangerous and thrilling when you were a kid and would see your father come home after one of his “missions.” While it is both of those things, since inheriting this business from your father, you’ve found that the day to day is more paperwork and meetings than dangerous and thrilling.

Between calls with international business partners and ensuring that both your legal and illegal operations were running smoothly, the thrilling part of this life is rare. That’s also not to say things haven’t been interesting.

You’re not the only crime family in New York. The Odinsons run Queens, the Guardians have Brooklyn, the Bronx remains unclaimed, and the headache that is the Rumlow family operates out of Staten Island.

Your relationship with the Odinsons and Guardians is a good one, you’re not allies per se but you’re not enemies either. Your relationship with the Rumlow Family is tumultuous at best, you try not to have dealings with them at all.

Lately though, he’s been making moves on the Bronx. He has some sort of connection that’s allowed him to buy property that is beyond difficult to acquire given who owns it.

“Looks like you could really use that drink.” Steve chirps up, voice completely cutting your train of thoughts off.

It’s then you realize you’re already at the bar. For what feels like the hundredth time today, you both get out of the car and head into the building, Steve looking over his shoulder like it’s second nature.

Unlike the majority of the places you’ve walked into today, this one brings an instant smile to your face.

The chipped red oak bar, the scattered wobbly chairs and tables, the flickering light above the bar and stage, all accompanied by the melody coming from the stage feels like home. A familiar face sits on the bench, fingers stroking the keys of the baby grand in a pattern that creates one of the songs you love.

“Well if it isn’t the boss lady.” The bartender says as you slide onto the stool, a glass being sat on a coaster in front of you.“ Whiskey sour?” He confirms to which you nod.

He begins making the drink and you spin on your stool to face the stage, only to find your view partly obstructed by the person sitting three stools down.

Long copper tendrils fall down her back, a green cardigan covering her body. You make out a soft but defined jawline, the ever so subtle swoop of her nose, and perky cheekbones.

When she looks up, head turning to face the bartender as her hand raises in a call for another drink, your jaw damn near drops. For the second time in one night you’re in awe of a woman’s beauty.

You sip your drink, almost spluttering as her eyes land on yours. Green eyes twice in one day.

“I’m sorry, am I in the way?”

Her voice makes you blink, and then realize you were staring at her for far too long.

Smiling apologetically, you shake your head.“ No, no, of course not. I should be apologizing, I couldn’t help but stare.”

An instant blush rises on her cheeks and she legitimately splutters.“ I- you- wh- what were you staring at?”

“Only one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen many women.” Your words deepen her blush and that makes you smirk. With ease, you shift into the seat beside her.“ I don’t mean to be too forward, I just prefer not to beat around the bush.”

She shakes her head.“ No it’s okay. I- thank you. You’re also very easy on the eyes.”

“Why thank you. . .”

“Wanda. Wanda Jar-” she shakes her head softly,“ Wanda Maximoff.”

You nod, refraining from pointing out her seeming mistake,“ it’s a pleasure Miss Maximoff. I must say, I’m curious how you stumbled across this little hole in the wall. It’s usually just me, Scott, and Phil around here.”

“Plus your shadow over there.” Her gaze shifts over your shoulder and you follow it to find Steve watching you from his usual spot in the corner booth.

Chuckling, you turn back to the redhead.“ That is my friend Steve, he’s protective, rightfully so.”

Her eyebrows furrow, little wrinkles forming between them.“ Are you out here looking for danger or something?”

“Not looking. But it has a way of finding me. Though Steve is always there and I’m far from helpless so it’s nothing to worry about.” You explain to her.

There’s a brief pause before she nods.“ Well, to answer your previous question: this was as far from my old neighborhood that I felt like going and I heard the music from outside.”

“Phil is a rare talent that’s for sure.” You compliment the pianist.“ Far from the neighborhood though, we running from something?”

She lets out a heavy sigh.“ A failed marriage.”

“Oof. Well, if we’re running from it, I assume talking about it is out?” She nods and you offer a smile.“ So a distraction would be better.”

That causes her eyes to drop to her drink: a margarita.“ This is the distraction.”

You shake your head.“ Nooo. That is a decent stress relief, but a distraction can be provided, if you’re interested.”

Her eyes bore into yours, there’s a decent amount of intrigue but you see the caution as there should be, you’re a stranger though you have no ill intentions.

“I think I’ll pass. I shouldn’t be out too long.” Your eyes flick to the clock above the bar, it’s well past midnight.

So you nod.“ I completely understand. I probably should be getting home soon as well.” You down the last of your second drink and stand.“ It was lovely meeting you, Wanda. And if you ever happen to want a distraction, call me.�� Your business card, with the addition of your personal number, is slipped onto the bar top beside her glass.

“It was nice meeting you too.” She mumbles, trying to process that you’re indeed the Y/n Y/ln your business card says you are (no wonder you looked familiar to her).

“Get home safely.”

With that you wave a hand to Steve who is quick to finish his beer and stand. On your way out you slip an overly large tip to Phil who nods in thanks while still playing, then you disappear from the bar. The whole while, the green eyes of the redhead remain on you.

#mafia au #marvel mafia au #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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