#and now I'm tripping out with that knowledge

[cute-sucker]

all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??

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rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.

you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.

going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.

going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.

it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was strategic. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.

he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.

but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.

"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."

and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.

you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.

little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.

"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.

he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.

rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"

dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.

"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.

that rafe.

you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"rafe-"

"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."

now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.

finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.

but that was definitely not it.

"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."

finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"

you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."

rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.

"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.

"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."

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taglist for all my fics; @wearemadeofstardust0

taglist for boxer!rafe: @maybankslover @vogueprincess @spookyscaryspoon

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[heirofnight]

finally

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 4.6k - this one's a doozy, buckle up.

based on this request: Hi hi can I get an angsty Azriel x fem!reader fic. Basically they’re mates but they don’t have the best relationship for whatever reason. Rhysand sends them on a mission somewhere and somehow Azriels mind gets taken over and he attacks reader. She doesn’t want to leave Azriel even though he begs her to before he lost control because despite everything she did love him. Reader ends up getting hurt but was thankfully able to reach out to Rhysand in time. Rhysand then clears Azriels mind from whatever was done to him. Azriel ofc beats himself up over it, but then they kiss and makeup.

content warnings: talk of death, reader gets attacked, choking

a/n: this was a TRIP to write. for all of you requesting angst, i'm serving it on a silver platter. i hope you love it! first time writing a fic based on a request, so i hope i did it justice. let me know what you think! as always, lightly edited. pls ignore any mistakes <3

"are you serious?", you spat out, scoffing in disbelief. you crossed your arms across your chest immediately, your body language depicting just how frustrated you were.

azriel stood next to you, keeping way too much distance for a male that was apparently, allegedly your mate.

some mate, you sneered within your swirling mind. you'd both still refused to accept the bond, and if anything, it had just made the already avoidant relationship between the both of you even worse.

you were convinced that this was some sort of divine mistake, there was simply no way that azriel was your mate. we have absolutely nothing in common, another brief thought that had you glancing at him from the corner of your peripheral - just to find him standing in the exact same stance that you currently held. arms crossed, body language defensive, expression stoic.

you cleared your throat and quickly dropped your arms to your sides, straightening your spine before meeting rhys' violet gaze once more. his eyes sparkled with amusement, knowing exactly what you were thinking. whether you were that transparent, or he had actually caught you with your mental shields down - you didn't know. the wards within your mind were the least of your concerns right now.

"i am absolutely serious, i'm afraid", rhys smirked, enjoying the entertainment of watching both you and azriel spiral towards an inevitable juvenile skirmish. especially at his own hand.

azriel huffed a frustrated breath, his shadows becoming more frenzied as they ebbed and flowed around his body. you glanced at him once more, noticed the way his wings had drooped in defeat. you found yourself beginning to admire his side profile, his sculpted, pretty features calling to you in a moment of weakness. you quickly averted your gaze.

you'd never claimed he wasn't attractive, that much about him was painfully obvious. and since he was - unfortunately - your mate, there were moments where it felt as though every fiber, cell, and atom of your body were screaming for his. you'd wondered if he ever felt the same.

"rhys, this is ridiculous. there is no reason for her to join me. i never have help on missions - i never need it," his words grew more strained as he spoke, his last words ending in a near-snarl.

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, throwing your hands up in exasperation before letting them slap against your thighs. "oh, i'm so sorry, azriel. how could i possibly offer any significant knowledge or assistance with this job, when you're already the most wisest, skilled, and capable male ever gifted by the gods? how can any of us forget - we pale in comparison to the all-feared shadowsinger," your tone was mocking as you turned towards him, cheeks reddening in exasperation.

azriel met your gaze, eyes narrowed as he deadpanned, "most wise".

you narrowed your own gaze to match his, "what?", you scoffed out.

"you said most wisest. that makes no sense. i believe you meant most wise," he stated dryly, tone emotionless.

your cheeks reddened further, expression twisting into one of pure anger. it didn't help that you heard rhys struggling to hold back a bark of laughter.

"okay, honestly, fuck yo-", you began, ready to spit pure venom straight into his veins with your words.

"enough," rhys commanded, voice booming. you froze, huffing out a breath before looking over at the high lord - he was now standing, his hands braced against the surface of his desk. his eyes held no amusement, no laughter. he was fed up.

"you are to both deploy on this mission. you are to both work together to track down this rebel group of daemati, and you are to both report back here with your findings. you keep each other safe. you work together. and you stop this childish bickering," rhys stated, his tone taking on a quality of pure nobility.

he looked between both you and azriel with striking violet eyes. "you leave tomorrow. am i clear?", the high lord questioned, and you knew he required an answer.

"yes," you and your mate replied at the same time, in the same brooding tone. rhys quirked an eyebrow at that, smirking slyly.

"great. have fun, you two," he gave a swooping gesture with his arm in dismissal.

the next morning, you and azriel departed right after breakfast. it was a shared - albeit silent - meal, and you found yourself glancing up at him behind the rim of your glass every single time you took a sip. you didn't know it, but azriel was sparing you the same glances as he ate his porridge.

the rebel group of daemati were last known to be located near the northern edge of the day court's borders - nearing the court of nightmares. the plan was to teleport close to the border itself, and you and azriel both knew that you'd more than likely have to track them from that location to wherever they were now.

you'd left from the house of wind's balcony after eating - azriel reluctantly placing a large hand on your shoulder before teleporting you both in a blanket of darkness and swirling shadows.

once the shadows dissipated, you'd found yourselves in a chilled, heavily wooded patch of forest. you blinked a few times, gaining your bearings. before your eyes had even fully focused on where you were, azriel was stalking off to your left, already on the prowl.

you rolled your eyes, jogging after him in order to catch up. "is your plan to 'accidentally' lose me in the woods?", you sneered, your legs burning as you tried to keep up with his long strides. you crouched down hastily to avoid a low-hanging branch that almost collided with your cheek. you'd been too busy glaring at the side of azriel's head to notice it.

he huffed, his boots crunching against fallen leaves. "keep up, and you won't get lost," he offered, his shadows darting out ahead of him to scout the surrounding area for traces of your target.

you grumbled, eyeing his smoky tendrils as they swirled in different directions. "prick," you said under your breath, pushing another branch out of your path.

you could have sworn you saw the corner of his lips quirk upward at your comment, an action that you would have almost found endearing if it weren't for the current situation you found yourself in. as much as you didn't want to admit it to yourself, you were nervous. you'd never been on a mission, especially not one that felt as high stakes as this one. daemati were dangerous. able to enter, control - and if trained enough, completely shatter - minds without so much as blinking. sure, as a scholar, you'd had brief knowledge on how to handle their kind, but coming across one daemati was rare - much less an entire pissed off group of them.

this could end terribly. and you did not want to be the one to sabotage this outing.

one single coil of shadow darted back towards azriel, whispering against the shell of his ear. "this way," he pointed to your right with a scarred hand, and you adjusted your path accordingly. you found your gaze following his hand as he lowered it to his side once more, and azriel glanced down, noticing where your eyes had landed.

he felt his pulse quicken, not sure what to make of your sudden interest in his hands. it was already an insecurity of his, and he knew that you'd not be shy to prey on that fact.

he cleared his throat, running that same hand through his hair in order to break your gaze. you inhaled a sharp breath, realizing you'd been caught. you opted to stare straight ahead instead, the normal silence between the both of you now feeling awkward.

should you say something? you didn't want him to think you'd been looking at the skin of his hands in disgust. it was the furthest thing from the truth. and while you weren't the hugest fan of his, you would never think poorly of him in regards to his trauma.

"i -," you started, clearing your own throat now. he glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, not urging you to finish.

"i've always thought they were beautiful - your hands," you said sincerely, voice nothing more than a whisper that you were certain a gust of wind could carry away on a breeze - never to be heard.

he took a deep breath, blowing it out through his nose harshly.

"thank you," he said softly, nodding once.

a lifeline, that's what it felt like.

my mate, he thought to himself, trudging forward.

you'd both continued on in comfortable silence for the next few hours. the bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach was beginning to unravel, and you had to admit: you felt safe with azriel. not that you'd assumed he'd leave you for dead at any point during this mission - at the very least, rhys had commanded he return you to velaris safely. even if azriel somehow personally wanted you dead, he wouldn't defy his high lord's orders.

regardless, you were beginning to feel safe alongside him on your own accord.

a few times, you'd attempted to speak. pointing out various birds that you'd seen perched in the high branches of trees, or remarking on types of flowers that you'd walk past - many of which weren't native to velaris. azriel would notice the way your voice perked up as you spoke of them, noticed a certain kind of wistful joy that crept into your eyes, widening your pupils.

his own gaze began to soften as he observed you, finding your wholesome awe endearing. he listened carefully as you passionately explained each finding. cute, he'd thought briefly, warming up to your company. your hair whipped around you on a stray breeze, a strand catching right across your nose. his hand twitched, the urge to effortlessly brush it from your face filling him to the brim. but before he was able to build up the courage to do so, you'd beat him to it, and his hand stilled.

you were just about to point out yet another bird flying across the dusk-dusted sky when a familiar tendril of shadow approached azriel's ear.

"silence," he whispered in a hushed tone, halting his steps. he tensed up alongside you, his wings pulling in tightly at his back.

you closed your mouth, swallowing what you'd meant to say. you froze in place slightly behind him, waiting with shallow breaths for his next order.

"up ahead," he whispered, nodding his chin towards what looked to be a plume of smoke rising into the chilled air. your eyes followed the path of his gaze, and you squinted to make out the scene before you.

azriel crouched next to your still-standing form as he attempted to get a better look from a different angle.

it appeared to be a campsite of some sort - whoever was stationed there had clearly decided to stop traveling for the evening. the sun was quickly lowering behind the mountain range in the distance, and the air was even more frigid than when you'd both begun your trek. you felt a shiver wrack through your body, and azriel glanced up at you, frowning slightly.

he watched as you studied the growing fire before the both of you, his gaze lingering for just a second too long. you looked down at him, your eyes meeting for the first time all day. your breath hitched at the eye contact, and you faltered for a moment.

"so do we-", you spoke quietly.

"let's just-", he spoke at the same time.

you smiled warmly, dropping your head and huffing out a laugh.

he smirked, grabbing your wrist gently to pull you down to his level. "my shadows picked up on a few daemati tracks. i'm assuming its a small group - they must have decided to stop here for the evening. i'm guessing it's four, maybe five of them," he explained in a hushed tone, his eyes finding the campsite once more.

you thought for a moment, observing him.

"so, what's the best way to go about this?", you asked, voice soft.

he was about to reply, but his body froze, mouth poised to speak but nothing emerged.

there was a momentary pause before his expression transformed into one of pain, pure agony. he grunted, bracing his arms against the ground beneath him. his eyes were screwed shut in pain.

you startled, falling back onto your butt as you took in the scene before you with wide eyes.

no, no no no.

you supposed your brain knew what was happening before your body could react.

and that's when you felt it, a stifling, world-ending level of pain - unrelenting pain that felt so real, so true. but it wasn't your own pain. it was azriel's, through the white-hot golden bond that tethered the two of you together. until this moment, azriel had made sure to keep his emotions sequestered from you - you had done the same. out of pure spite, disdain for the cauldron's decision to fuse the two of you together for eternity.

until this moment. when azriel opened the floodgates of his own mind, letting you in. warning you.

"az," you breathed out, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder in gut-wrenching fear.

he gritted his teeth, letting out a horrible groan of distress.

"leave," he gnashed out, his voice strained. he let out another roar of pain.

you shook your head, eyes wide and pained.

"no, azriel. no. i'm not," you said sternly, voice watery.

"y/n," he forced out, nails digging into the dirt beneath him as he fought the intrusion of the daemati.

"y/n," he repeated, groaning once more, "it has me. it's going to make me hurt you," he strained, "you have to go. contact rhys, and go," he fell onto his side, wings flaring in exertion.

you scrambled towards him, placing a hand on his forehead. your heart was beating so rapidly, you were half-expecting it to leap from your throat and join azriel's form on the dampened ground.

all you could do was shake your head, over and over and over.

"no, no, no," you whispered, eyes filling with tears. you felt a fear so absolute, wholly understanding right then the pure agony that crawled into every crevice when the person on the other end of that golden rope was in danger. you couldn't leave him, you refused. every fiber of your being rebuked the thought. you peered down at his writhing form, his face pinched in pain. he was still the most beautiful male you'd ever seen.

you let out a gutteral noise of distress. you wasted so much time - so much time resenting azriel. fighting with him. throwing jabs at him. hating the gods, the cauldron, for linking the two of you. for what?

all that time wasted, and now his mind was no longer his. you would never get to express your love for the male before you - never get to experience the love that the both of you so immensely deserved.

"azriel," you choked out, pressing your shaking hands to every part of his body you could possibly touch. you glanced up, surveying your surroundings quickly. that's when you saw him, the daemati.

he'd kept his distance, but you made out the shape of his dark form within the trees. you couldn't even see his face, but you could clearly see the way his head tilted to the right, unnaturally slow. he was using his powers to fully infiltrate azriel's mind.

but your mate was putting up a fight. your strong, powerful mate.

azriel was doing everything within his power to not succumb to the daemati's will, his body feeling like it was going to split in half. the pain, the unrelenting, bone crushing pain, was enough to make him wish he could somehow force himself completely unconscious.

and still, through it all, he could not tear his thoughts away from you. a dangerous game, as he was dealing with a species of fae that was literally able to break into the walls of his mind, utilizing his deepest fears against him.

and right now, his biggest fear was losing you. hurting you.

he roared out, blue siphons blazing, vibrating against his skin.

one singular mantra stamped itself through his mind as he attempted to fight off the daemati clawing at his iron-clad wards long enough to convince you to flee, to leave him there to suffer alone - just as he always had:

my mate, fight for your mate, keep her safe, fight for your mate, keep her safe, my mate

you froze, mesmerized by the form that was tearing azriel's mind apart chamber-by-chamber.

then, it happened, and it happened quickly: azriel, now fully under its control, lunged toward you. he tackled you backwards, into the dirt and leaves beneath the both of you.

you screamed, bracing your hands against his chest. you dared to look into his hazel eyes, orbs that were no longer his own.

what you saw terrified you. pupils blown wide.

death himself.

a large, scarred hand found its way to your throat, and you thrashed wildly beneath him. he was unphased by the fight you tried to give him - he was too strong, and you were too scared.

rhys, rhys please, you chanted into your mind, hoping somehow he'd be able to hear you. it was a long shot - you knew that. you'd never once communicated with rhys mind-to-mind, but it was your only chance.

you were going to die at the hands of your mate. and it all felt so ironic, since azriel hated you anyway.

rhys, please, your pleads grew frantic, and azriel's hand gripped tighter around your neck.

the edges of your vision began to go dark, and you grabbed azriel's chin, peering into his eyes with all of the strength that you could muster. "azriel. it's me. it's y/n - it's your mate. please, az. i'm so sorry for everything," you strained against his grip, throat tightening. you wouldn't be conscious for much longer. if there was any chance that he - the real him - could hear you, you had to try to get through.

"i'm so, so sorry, az," you spluttered out, eyes growing heavy.

you sent one more plead to rhys through your mind before everything went dark.

your eyes fluttered open slowly, a groan leaving your throat before you were even fully awake. your neck ached, the skin there burned. your whole body felt tense, tight, and stiff.

you blinked, eyes heavy, trying to take in your surroundings. you recognized the ceiling above you, knew that the soft sheets pulled up to your chin were the ones adorning your bed at the house of wind.

you were home. you were alive.

the events with azriel, the forest - the daemati - came rushing back at full-speed, leaving you breathless. you tried to sit up, but your entire body screamed with the sudden movement.

fuck.

"there she is," you heard a familiar silk-coated voice. rhys. you glanced over towards the sound, and found the high lord perched in an armchair next to your bed.

"rhys," you spoke hoarsely. he stood then, approaching your side with feline grace.

he smiled down at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"quite a fan of the dramatics, aren't you, y/n," he teased soothingly, taking a seat on the side of your mattress gently. "you had all of us frightened half to death," he added, surveying your face as he took note of your current state.

you groaned quietly, raising a hand to feel at your throat. it was obviously bruised - you didn't need to see it to know that.

"azriel," you whispered hoarsely, shaking your head to yourself. you were safe, so surely azriel must be too ... right? the thought of anything otherwise had your stomach lurching. you felt for the bond, felt for azriel's presence, and were met with emptiness - just like you had been until the daemati attacked.

"azriel is just fine, y/n," rhys spoke gently, a knowing tone in his voice. "i heard you, that day in the forest. i arrived just in time. it took a few days, but...," he trailed off, moving a strand of hair from your face, "but i was able to completely heal az from the damage the daemati caused," he finished, letting out an exhale.

you felt tears springing to your eyes immediately, unable to control your reaction to the news. "i'm so sorry, rhys," you choked out, a shaky breath escaping through your nose.

"now, now," he soothed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "none of that, none of that at all," he continued, eyes softening as he met your broken gaze.

"you did nothing wrong, y/n. you stayed at the side of your mate, even in the face of lethal danger. you summoned me," he paused for a moment, watching you.

"you didn't allow him to experience that alone. and while you staying there may not have been the ... most wisest ... thing to do," rhys teased, referencing your last conversation amongst the two males, "i still commend you. i, myself, have not made the smartest decisions where feyre's safety is concerned," he wiped another tear threatening to cascade onto your sheets.

you let out a watery laugh at his teasing, shaking your head.

"he hates me, rhys," you whispered, eyes finding the ceiling once more.

rhys let out a dry chuckle at your statement, sighing to himself.

"on the contrary, y/n, i think you'll find that az feels the complete opposite," he whispered, voice lilting.

you met his gaze, eyes narrowing.

just then, there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door. one that was made with the intention to not disturb your sleeping, healing form.

the door opened, and azriel crept in, wings pulled together against his back in order to avoid jostling any of your shelved belongings. he was trying to be as silent as possible, not yet aware that you were awake.

"i brought a glass of water, rhys, just in case she wak-," his words caught in his throat once his eyes made their way to yours. your opened, very awake, eyes.

"i have some very important paperwork to attend to," rhys spoke. "numbers to run, high lord duties - things of that nature," he grinned slyly, removing himself from your beside and strutting towards the door. he turned back towards you before leaving, bowing his head once. "i'm glad that you're okay, y/n. please let me know if you need anything," he said gently, before making his exit.

azriel still stood off to the side, frozen. his eyes were fused to the bruise that spanned your throat - a bruise that was in the shape of his own hand.

"hi," you whispered hoarsely, clearing your throat.

"i'm so....- i am so fucking sorry, y/n," azriel whispered, stunned. his grip tightened around the glass of water in his hand, and you were momentarily concerned that it may splinter under the pressure.

"az," you began to speak, scooting your body up against the row of pillows propped behind you. "we both know that none of this is your fault. you fought it, i saw-," you pleaded, eyebrows cinched.

"no," he cut you off, voice stern, but quiet.

"no," he repeated, stepping towards you. "i should have never allowed rhysand to send you out on a mission this dangerous. there is no excuse. i could have killed...", he trailed off, approaching you almost hesitantly, as if he were scared to get too close. "i could have killed you," he finished, voice strained and full of regret.

you shook your head, reaching for him now, and he approached you. a moth to a flame. he set the glass of water down and allowed you to take his hand. the same one that was wrapped around your neck just days ago.

"this hand, a hand that i find so beautiful, this hand that belongs to you - my mate - would have never done this to me. and i know that," you whispered, tearing up once more.

he dropped his head, wings drooping - the very tips touching the floor.

he squeezed your hand once, sitting on your bedside dejectedly.

"i heard you," he whispered after a short pause. "i heard you begging me to stop. i just couldn't -,"

"i know," you cut him off, not wanting him to spiral into a pit of despair that would engulf him entirely.

his shadows began to lazily twirl around him, a few breaking away from his body in favor of worrying over you instead.

he loosed a deep breath, staring at the floor for awhile. you allowed him to ponder, think through all of the horrible events of the last few days. as awful as your attack was, you couldn't begin to imagine the toll it took on azriel. his mind was infiltrated, ripped apart, and his body was no longer his. you could not even fathom it.

"the daemati made me attack you because he knew we were mates. he sensed the bond. and ...-," he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, "he knew how important your safety was to me. he got into my head, and into my thoughts. he saw how important you are," he whispered, finding your eyes.

your eyes shut, a tear escaping from the corners. he reached out a hand, a sure hand.

he wouldn't allow another moment to pass where he wanted to touch you, but held himself back.

you felt him wipe the tears away, his touch so gentle, it made your chest ache.

"i am sorry, you know," you whispered, sniffling. "i'm sorry for all the shit i've given you. i truly never resented the mating bond as much as i let on. it was just-...", you shook your head, eyes fluttering open once more to find his honeyed gaze. "it was a defense mechanism, because i knew you didn't want the bond, didn't want me, and i didn't want to look stupid - pining after a male that was ashamed of me," you rushed out, cheeks tinting pink at the confession.

his brows furrowed, and he huffed out a breath as he shook his head slowly, "y/n," he started, letting out this dry ghost of a laugh - although it lacked any humor. "no, that's not it at all. i was ... elated, to learn that you were my mate. but i thought that you wouldn't want me. after all this time, i'd come to terms with the fact that i would never ... never find my mate. our paths wouldn't cross, or i'd somehow get myself killed before i could find her," he paused for a moment, shaking his head. "but, no. i was ecstatic. especially because it was you. so full of fire and strength. beautiful - agonizingly so. your excitement for life radiates from your very core. i was, and still am, so proud to have been paired with you. i couldn't have chosen anyone better," he admitted, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

you were absolutely crying now, and your grip on his hand tightened as you let out a soft sob.

"we're such idiots," you croaked out, a hand coming up to cover your eyes.

he let out a soft laugh then, his own eyes becoming watery.

"perfect for each other. two idiot mates," he offered, a real, true smile spreading across his dimpled cheeks.

you laughed along with him, bringing his scarred knuckles up to your lips to nuzzle along them softly. the action made azriel still for a moment, and you felt an overwhelming wave of full, adoring emotions and bright, fizzling warmth hurdle directly into your chest. his emotions. he'd opened his side of the bond once more, but this time, for a very different reason. your wide eyes found his, and you returned the sentiment. you sent every ounce of love, unbridled and true, right into his chest. his breathing became ragged, his bottom lip quivering at the feeling. he was so loved, and gods, so were you.

you tugged on that golden string that was directly connected to the pit of his chest, tied right around his heart. he leaned towards you on instinct, and he knew at that moment that he would follow wherever you led him.

"my mate," he whispered, reaching down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

you tilted your head up slightly, your full lips finding his own.

"finally," you whispered against his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his waiting lips.

a/n: well, this one took 3 hours and cracked me in half along the way. if you made it this far, pls lmk what you thought! thanks for reading <3

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I love your writing so much!! I'm currently loving your freelance inventor series! I don't see a lot of danny/bruce fics so it's always fun when you post one!! What danny thinks of the justice league, does he think they're just Bruce's extreme sports friends? Or his kids friends parents?

Danny first meets Bruce's extreme sports friends when Dick plans to introduce Wally-his first boyfriend- on a water skiing trip. It went a little hair-walled due to the misunderstanding.

He had been around the manor with some free time, so he asked Bruce if he could join once Dick brought up the trip and made a comment on how important things he needed to talk about.

Usually, Danny wouldn't have bothered, but because it was so long that thier friendship had started he felt like it was a good time to ask.

At first, both the Waynes appeared to be dancing around the subject that, for a second, Danny thought they didn't want him there. Not wanting to make them feel pressured—and a little embarrassed he had assumed he could tag along—he backtracked quickly, making up an excuse about flying out to see Dani.

There was an awkward dinner that evening, so Danny left immediately. He had planned on staying the night at Wayne Manor, but he felt he had overstayed his welcome from his silly request. Instead, he rented a hotel room in the more dangerous parts of the city.

Danny had been on the hotel's phone line all night, attempting to find a plan to take him somewhere close to Dani. He could fly with his powers the rest of the way, but he needed to create some kind of paper trail.

While he listened to the hold music of the airline representative, he felt a wave of shame. At that point, Danny had only known Bruce and Dick for a year- but with various breaks in between visits- and had thought that made them closer. Who did he think he was?

Bruce wanted their relationship to stay as business associates who occasionally hung out but nothing as important as a vacation trip. Danny had just been the idiot who thought himself more important.

Well, he would not be making the same mistake. He would only come back if it involved his work and would find his own lodging from now on. The Waynes had likely not know how to say no to him.

Idiot, Danny thought, pacing in his room and wiping away tears. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Of course, Bruce Wayne doesn't think of you as a friend! Get a clue!

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Fenton. A first-class plane ticket to Calais, France, has been booked for you on Monday, July 7th. Would you like to make this a round trip?" the cheerful woman asks him, and he sniffs.

"No. It's a one-way. I won't be coming back here for a while." The words feel like knives in his chest

She doesn't notice as she chirps "Alright then, that has been done for you. Thank you for using Wayne Airlines!"

Ugh, he even used Bruce's planes by accident. At least this will be the last thing he annoys the man with. The following morning, bright and early Danny is out the door with his suit case. He makes it all the way to the lobby where he bumps into a fretting Dick and some red head kid.

"Danny!" Dick cries. He flings himself onto his waist, squeezing with all his might. Danny is flabbergasted. "Danny, I only wanted Bruce to go on the water ski trip because I wanted to tell him about my boyfriend! I haven't told him I was bisexual yet, I wanted to tell him on the trip, but I made him swear not to mention it to anyone else, but then you asked to go, and Bruce couldn't figure out a way to tell you no without revealing that I wanted to talk about something important-but then you got sad, and then Bruce got sad and I-"

"Babe." The redhead cuts in. "Breath"

"Danny, please don't be mad at Bruce because of me!" Dick cries, rubbing his face against Danny's stomach. "I promise we didn't want to exclude you!"

Danny's heart melts, both by how cute Dick is and the knowledge that Bruce was just a good dad and not any of his insecure-inspired conclusions. "Oh, Dick. I'm sorry you felt that. I promise I'm not mad, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."

He leans down to hug the boy, grinning as the ten year old sighs. Then he directs a glare at the redhead. He looks about twelve and frankly, Dick is far too young for a boyfriend. "Who's this?"

"I'm Wally West-"

"I asked Dick"

"Oh."

Dick leans back. "This is Wally. He's my best friend and boyfriend! Wally, this is Danny- he's like my second dad."

"It's nice to meet you, sir!" The redhead gulps as Danny's eyes narrow.

"Pleasure." He says in a voice that means anything but. "Dick, sweetie, how did you get here? Does Bruce know where you are?"

"Wally and I...ugh took a cap." Dick everts his eyes. "Bruce was talking to his friends trying to convince them to go on the trip too. He wanted to prove you were his special friend to his regular friends."

A thrill ran through Danny. He was Bruce Wayne's best friend!? "You know I think I can take you kids back home myself. Maybe we can still make a water ski trip!"

Both boys blink owlishly. "Yeah...maybe. Let me just call Uncle Barry to make sure he's going, too."

Wally sprinted to the front desk to borrow their landline while Dick stayed behind, babbling to Danny about how he knew he was bi and how he met Wally. Mentally, Danny was drafting a lecture to give Bruce for allowing his boy to date a co-worker and friend's nephew, especially at this young age! He didn't let his thoughts appear on his face, only nodding and smiling between Dick's word vomits.

Meanwhile, on Wally's side, he uses the Justice League hotline to speak to his Uncle. His call was transferred to the meeting with all the original founders as he used the emergency code accesses Barry had taught him.

His call was placed on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Code Teal for B! Code Teal for B!" he hissed into the phone. The rest of the members sat up straighter and sent Batman looks of alarm. Code Teal was a spouse or lover who thought a hero was cheating on them because of the mission's old hours. We needed to come together to cover for them.

Batman was hiding his face in his hands. ".....Confirm Code Teal."

"Oh and before I forget Code Artificial red for Dick and me" Wally shouts, ignoring the imploding shouts from Batman or Uncle Barry.He hung up not wanting to explain that the boys had chosen to use Fake-out-make-out in order to convince Danny to stay.

He wouldn't mind dating Dick, but maybe later when they were both older. Not that Danny needed to know that.

[guiltyasdave]

like snow on the beach

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~2.8k

summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.

tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU

a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe

biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3

dividers by @plum98!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)

You’re hot, too hot. 

It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin. 

Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men. 

The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.

It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.

You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him. 

His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now. 

“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.” 

He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows. 

“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.” 

If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less. 

The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet. 

Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t. 

Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you. 

Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.

“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss. 

When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous. 

“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”

A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed. 

“Don’t worry about it, Peña.” 

You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.

It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.

Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to. 

“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.

He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators. 

“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.” 

You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.

“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”

He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.

“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.” 

You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now. 

“It’s my intel.”

“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?” 

Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight. 

Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to. 

You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger. 

You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work. 

Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again. 

After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day. 

“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”

You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.

“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available. 

“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.

You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up. 

When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong. 

“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.

“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?” 

“Javier is fine.” 

Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask. 

“Why do you not like me?” 

It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know. 

“Why would you think that I don’t like you?” 

You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–” 

It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths. 

“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.” 

It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are. 

Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to. 

“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him. 

“Good night,” comes his solemn reply. 

You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep. 

You’re the one taking it personal. 

Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed. 

You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for. 

When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?” 

You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this. 

“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–” 

His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you. 

“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?” 

The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead. 

Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years. 

He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him. 

You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself. 

You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá. 

When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun. 

“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.” 

“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.

Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you. 

After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out. 

“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?” 

You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car. 

When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed. 

You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know. 

“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”

Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.

thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3

[sturniqlo]

Love You From The Start- C.S

summary: more bff!chris and bff!y/n and a bit of bf!chris and gf!y/n headcannons

cw: fluff, slight cursing, a pinch of angst ntm, very minimal smut

an: tysm to @probablyoutyappingorsomething and this anon for all of these ideas💋 | lowercase intended

masterlist

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

bff!chris who loves tickling you to make you laugh

"chris! stop it!" y/n cant stop laughing as chris' fingers dig into her sides and tickle her. chris also giggling and smiling so hard that he gets to hear her laugh and he's the one who's making her laugh and smile. "okay, okay!" chris' fingers eventually stop tickling her and he rolls on top of her and smothers her face in kisses, missing her lips.

bff!chris who always buys her online shopping carts without her knowledge

"oh my god no!" y/n whines, rubbing her hands over her face in disappointment, her laptop placed on top of her blanket. "what is it? what happened, hm?" chris asks worriedly. "my sephora cart! it's gone, i was going to buy it right now!" she goes to the sephora search bar and starts searching up the products she remembered she had in her cart. "wait, don't do it." chris stops her and grabs the laptop from her. "what? why not." she tries to look at the screen but he moves it from her view. "because," chris flips the screen back to her and shows her an online receipt. "i bought it for you when you were showering." he continues. y/n gasps. "chris, you didn't! it was almost three hundred dollars." she looks at his in disbelief.

"your package got here!" chris enters y/n's room. "my package? i didn't order anything." she's confused. "you didn't, i did. but, it's for you. i bought your amazon cart." y/n swats his arm. "chris! what'd i tell you about buying my cart without telling me." she grabs the huge box from him and opens it up. "thank you though."

bff!chris who takes y/n on many shopping sprees

"come on, it'll be fun!" chris drags her through the mall. "you know i don't like spending your money." chris groans. "i've told many times, i don't care! i'll buy you a fucking house and i wont complain! i love spoiling you." he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "fine, let's go to bath and body works first!" she soon gives in.

"i'd say this was a successful shopping trip!" chris lightly kicks y/n's room door open and places her many shopping bags down. "thank you for my new stuff chris, how can i pay you back?" y/n says. "i can think of a few ways." chris smirks and wraps his hands around her waist. "you dirty animal! not like that!" she throws her head back and laughs.

bff!chris who takes the opportunity to pretend to give y/n backshots whenever she's bent down

"i felt that!" y/n scolds chris when she feels a small gust of wind coming from behind her as she tries to grab a new sponge from under the sink. "not sure what you're talking about." chris acts clueless.

"boom! boom! boom!" chris grabs y/n's hips as she's bent over and pretends to give her backshots. "chris! you're so stupid!" she laughs as she's used to his behavior. "stupid for you." he lets her go and places a kiss on her neck.

bff!chris who teases you when you two are filming for his channel with his brothers

"behave." y/n mutters to chris once they're out of the frame from the camera. "but you look so good in this." he whispers and runs his hands over her ass in her shorts. chris, throughout the video, has been rubbing his hands over her ass and y/n is concerned that nick will miss it while editing and fans will take notice of them.

"and today we're here with y/n and we're going to be-" nick says and chris hugs y/n from behind and grabs her boobs for a second before letting go. "chris! i'm going to have to cut that out! let's redo the intro."

bff!chris who give you his honest opinions on your outfits and accessories

"okay, what about with this necklace?" y/n turns back around and shows chris the new necklace on her neck. chris, laying against her headboard, looks her up and down seeing if the necklace matches. "mm, i think the second one is better. this one is so thin and you can't really see it. i almost ignored it like you ignore my love for you."

"absolutely not." chris shakes his head at the shirt y/n is currently trying on. "yeah, i thought so." y/n looks down at the shirt as if it's going to magically change and look any better. "looks like something my eighty year old neighbor would wear." y/n gasps and they both look a girl who is walking into the changing room going to try on some clothes wearing the same exact shirt. "chris!" she covers her mouth and locks herself in the changing room leaving chris on his own.

"yes, this one looks so good on you!" chris immediately gets up as he sees her in a tight fitting dress. "look at you, holy fuck." he rubs his hands up and down her figure. "thank you, i'm guess you love it?" she looks up at him. "oh yeah." he pushes her into the tiny room.

bff!chris who will sit and yap with you for hours on end

"and i told him, no you're fucking crazy if you think i'm touching that snake!" chris tells y/n a story of what happened on his hike with his friends and they encounter a small snake. "remember when we accidentally kissed?" he forgets all about the snake talk and moves onto another topic.

"really? tell me more about it." chris looks into her eyes as she takes chris about a time where she was into pottery. "i have a few pieces in my family storage unit. maybe we can go one day and i'll show you. i think there's this one piece you'll like and you can have it." she fixed his earring as it moved out of place. "i'll keep all of 'em if i have the chance to."

bff!chris getting jealous when he sees you talking or laughing with another guy who isn't him

"who was that you were just talking to?" chris says in an angry tone. "not sure, he just came up to me and started talking to me." she says casually. "well i don't like him." y/n sighs. "chris you don't even know him." she says.

"woah, calm down. looks like you're about to explode." matt says next to him as chris looks at y/n talking to one of her guy friends. she's told chris about max, one of her old friends, and how close they used to be. "am not." he lies, feeling jealousy all over him. he then sees y/n wave him over and he goes up to him. "chris, this is max. max, this is chris." max sticks his hand out for chris to shake it. "it's nice to finally put a face to name, she's told me so much about you." max says and y/n blushes. "hush!"

bff!chris introducing y/n as 'his girl' to new people

"y/n! come, let me introduce you to some people i just met." chris says in her ear as he finally found her. "okay!" she grabs his hand and follows behind him. "guys! look, this is my girl, y/n." he puts a hand on her waist and y/n blushes at what he just called her.

bff!chris doing anything and everything to make her smile when she's upset

"come on, give me smile. please?" chris hovers over her, trying to pull her hands away from her face. "noo!" she whines. "please? just a small one." he finally manages to remove her hands. "look how pretty you are." that makes her break out in a smile. "there she is." chris smiles. "i promise you, that grade doesn't define you, okay? that professor doesn't know what he's talking about."

bff!chris overhearing y/n tell his brothers she doesn't like him, but he misses something.

chris could help but eavesdrop on y/n's conversation with his brothers. he was currently standing on the stairs behind the wall. "so, do you like him?" he hears matt's voice. "i- uhm, i don't know? no?" chris' heart breaks and he freezes for a couple of seconds before turning back and slowly walks down the stairs back into his room. however, y/n continues. "fine! yes, i do, i fucking love him. i'm just scared to tell him." back in his room, chris sniffles into his pillow. the girl who he has major feeling for doesn't like him back. was she just leading him on the entire time?

bff!chris ignoring y/n after overhearing what she said

"hi, i'm back." y/n comes back down happier than usual. chris stays silent on his phone. "wanna watch a movie or something?" she says, plopping down in her usual spot on his bed. he ignores her. "chris? do you want to watch a movie?" she tries once more, maybe he didn't hear her. "hello? earth to chris?"

bff!chris and bff!y/n expressing their love for each other

it's been an hour of chris ignoring y/n and he finally break the silence. "i heard you up there. heard what you said." he mumbles. "you heard me? like everything?" she questions. he nods. "oh i heard everything, alright." he says. "then why are you ignoring me, i thought you'd be happy." chris finally snaps. "happy? why the fuck would i be happy? you clearly told my brother you don't like me after all these years of me flirting with you? we fucking kissed for crying out loud! were you just leading me on?" he gets up from off the bed and runs his hand through his hair. "what?! no, chris you missed the part where i clearly said i was scared of telling you that i love you!" she says back. "what?" chris says, pausing his movements. "i said no at first because i was scared of admitting it. but then i said i do, i love you, chris." she gets up off the bed and walks to him. "i feel so stupid, oh my god." he groans into his hands. "i love you too, y/n."

bf!chris who can finally show y/n how much he loves her

"can i?" chris kisses down her neck. "can i show you how much i fucking love you?" he nips at her sweet spot making her let out a soft moan. "yes, please. please show me."

"mm, you feel so good around me, baby." chris groans into her neck. her nails scratching down his back. "fuck- keep- keep going." y/n gasps as she feels the familiar knot in her lower belly. "gonna come for me, hm?" she can only nod.

gf!y/n who overhears bf!chris telling her mom he wants to marry her

"you really love her don't you?" y/n hears her moms voice in the kitchen. she had came down because chris was taking a bit to long from getting water. "i do, i really do." she stands behind the wall that goes into the kitchen feeling bad for overhearing this conversation. "i want to marry her one day." y/n gasps quietly and smiles. she goes back upstairs once he mentions that he's going to head on up. once he enters the room he sees y/n slightly out of breath and smiley. "you head me down there didn't you?" he throws himself on top of her. "maybe." she giggles. "i really mean it, okay?" he kisses her lips. "okay, i agree with you too. i want to marry you."

[dustofthedailylife]

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101

→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part

Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.

Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing

A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.

“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”

The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.

You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you. 

After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself? 

And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.

You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.

You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.

The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.

When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely. 

The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.

With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on. 

And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.

Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.

"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."

No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.

At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.

You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.

The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.

Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.

"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.

You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

Now what?

You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?

You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on. 

All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head. 

Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.

And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room. 

You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.

You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.

You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.

Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second. 

He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.

He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.

You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.

“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.

You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.

“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.

You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.

“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.

When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.

“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.

You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up. 

“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.

“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”

“Wriothesley.”

After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.

You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.

You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.

Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind. 

“Wriothesley!”

The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.

“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably. 

“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”

“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”

“Please. I insist.”

And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here. 

You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.

You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.

“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.

“No. It’s just… why–?”

“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.

“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.

“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.” 

You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”

“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.

“Why are you here?” You continued prying.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.

You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.

A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other. 

Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.

“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.

“Great. See you tomorrow then.”

And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off. 

You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.

On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.

"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively. 

As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.

"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.

"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.

"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.

"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.

“Duke?” You asked confusedly. 

“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.

“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.

You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.

The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.

You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.

“Stay.” 

You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.

“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.

“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.

“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.

Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!

The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.

You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.

You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.

"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.

Just who was he?

But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.

The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.

Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.

Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.

"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.

"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.

"That you're innocent."

"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-" 

You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

"I know." He reiterated firmly.

You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.

"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.

"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.

That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.

"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.

He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?

"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"

"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide." 

And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.

His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.

He was the one who saved you earlier.

He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."

You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.

"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."

But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.

"Will I be able to see you again?"

A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.

"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.

A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.

And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.

And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[onmyyan]

Yandere DC Purge Au pt 2

A/N: Yandere themes, fem reader, canon typical violence, bonus points if you know the Jerome I'm referring to at the end 😩🤟🏽 feedback welcome

Booted feet hit the pavement rapidly, your breath comes out in pants as you book it through Gothams streets. (H/c) Hair clung to your face in ringlets, you were soaked but the heat of adrenaline kept you warm. The night was in full swing with screams echoing throughout the night, you curse under your breath ignoring the urge to help those people, you had to save yourself first.

A large imposing man was wrangling someone into his car, a gun in his hand he looks around wildly, he sees you coming and takes aim before firing, the first bullet wizzes past your cheek, the second one catches you in the neck, you roll your eyes, ignoring the man and the already healing wound, the bullet gets pushed out of your skin hitting the wet ground with a clang. You're fast, enhanced speed allowing you to book it across Gotham much swifter than a normal human being.

Bruce is about a block away from where your tracker last pinged, Tim diligently searched for the signal while Dick, Jason, and Damian followed on foot. They navigate the streets fluidly, a testament to their knowledge of their City. Your keen sense of hearing alerts you to a massive gathering of people coming up, it sounds like some sort of debaucherous street party? As you come upon the crowd you notice people in purge masks grinding against each other, you can't help but grin, this was the perfect way to lose them.

Music blared from six foot speakers, a makeshift stage had been built in the middle of the street, some people were chained to others, dazed looks on their faces as they danced with their captors. You took a moment to think, you knew these bastards well, well enough to know they were probably tracking you, patting yourself down, your fingers catch on a small circular device under your right shoulder, something so innocuous you wouldn't have noticed it if you weren't looking, sucking your teeth, you remove your jacket with finesse, you pick a stranger at random, everyone here was drugged out and blissful, so it wasn't hard to drape the garment over a random girl's shoulders.

Maneuvering through the busy crowd was easy as you appeared to be the only sober one there.

Bruce curses under his breath as Tim alerts him of your location, you were asking for trouble, a street party on purge night? What were you thinking?!

Damian arrives first, the crowd is too consumed in their pleasure to notice the vigilante, his hooded figure cuts through the crowds like a warm knife through butter, Tim was feeding him information on your location through his earpiece, his face was set in a glare, he hated the idea of all these scumbags surrounding you, tainting you, his grip on the hilt of his sword never waivers.

Dick is close behind, his eyes scanning the crowd for your features, every (h/c) haired woman he saw made his heart pick up, but none of them were you.

Jason doesn't bother with niceties, he shoves his way through the crowd, pushing anyone and everyone out of his way, "(y/n)!" He yells over the pulsing music, "Don't make this harder than it has to be kitty."

Meanwhile you watch them from the shadows of the stage, you needed a distraction, something that would give you a real shot at escaping, so you trip a burley guy making him crash into a group of men, when he turns to glare at you, you point to the man beside him in blame, that's all it takes for the violence to break out.

The three Wayne men near you couldn't simply watch the riot, despite their mission, you, they had a job to do, so they go about wrangling the now rowdy crowd, and you use the mayhem to slip away into the night.

You don't stop running until the sounds of the party fade, replaced by the usual chaos of the purge, you pant, hands on your knees as you lean against the grime covered alley wall. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, blood rushing as your body tries to acclimate to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Well, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?" A male voice questions from the entrance to the alley, your head snaps up to meet his electric green gaze, you recognized his infamous smile anywhere, having thrown his ass into Arkham more times than you could count you can't help but sigh at the sight of the up and coming kingpin.

"Fuck do you want Jerome?"

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area 9

masterpost

“Good morning!”

Jason winced and moved the phone a little further from his face. “Is this Doctor Fenton?” 

“It's one of them! What can I do ya for?” Jack Fenton boomed, just as bombastic as his newsletter made him seem. Jason knew, deep in his heart, that Jack Fenton was indeed the one who had selected green neon bold for his headings and borders. 

Angels wept. Jason scrubbed his palm over his eye. This man had no poetry in his soul. “I, uh, had some questions about a ghost. I've read some of your articles and your most recent published paper on the topic.”

“We love ghosts!” Fenton bellowed. “Ask away!”

“Do you know a ghost called Phantom?” Jason tried.

“...Sure do,” Jack Fenton said. “Whatcha need?” 

Jason cleared his throat. “It's somewhat complicated,” he said evasively, because he didn't need these people to know he was the Red Hood. Fuck. He should have either gotten his helmet stored away or not given his real name. Phantom knew his face and that his name was Jason. Any information that got around via Phantom might tie his face to his alter ego. If Phantom said he got married to Jason, the Red Hood, that could lead to the end of the Bat family vigilantism.

“...He cause you trouble, sport?”

Jason let out a slight laugh. “You could say that, though it wasn't really his fault,” he admitted. He cast a paranoid eye out the window to be sure no siblings were creeping on him. “No, it's really more that…” Fuck, he should have planned this better. “Is there any information you can give me about how a human could contact him?” 

Not that Jason didn't have a phone number for the guy. But it made him very uncomfortable to have any basic knowledge or way to track Phantom down if he decided to leave Jason to whatever was going on. 

“I could probably do that,” Jack Fenton said slowly, now sounding like an entirely different human being. “Say, you wouldn't be Jeremy, would you?”

Jason blinked. “...How did you know?” He went with. Phantom had contact with a human guy named Jeremy? That might be his in.

“Oh, well then, you've definitely got to come over,” Dr. Fenton wheedled. It somehow came across as shifty. “You'll be wanting a whole primer on how the Ghost Zone works, won't ya?” 

“That would be immensely helpful,” Jason agreed. “But I'd hate to take up your valuable time.”

“Nonsense!” Fenton bellowed. Jason nearly lost his grip on his phone in surprise. “Come over Jeremy, I'm dying to meetcha!” 

So, there was a plan. Jason packed for a day trip and dialed up his travel agent. 

“Fuck off,” said Tim. “I'm busy. Christ.” 

“I need an airplane ticket and a rental bike to Illinois,” Jason continued. He tossed his mostly full bag on the sofa and went digging for the socks he knew he had washed the other night. “I'm going to go see some nerds about my impromptu adventure the other day.”

Tim groaned. That was the first Jason had given any hint at all about what had happened to him when he'd been ‘sacrificed.’ “What nerds?” He asked wearily. 

Jason grinned into his sock drawer. Gottem. “Why, do you all know each other?” He asked blithely. 

“Do you always antagonize people you want favors from?” Tim whined. A keyboard clacked rapidly in the background. “Jason, I swear to God, you massive bitch. Cut the crap and communicate, or I'm hanging up.” 

Jason frowned at his socks and grabbed a random pair. “You don't gotta be like that,” he said sulkily. He slammed the socks into his bag with a very unsatisfying silence. “So, the ritual doohickey sent me to the infinite underworld, I met a guy there actually and we are magically connected because he's who that dumb ritual matched me up to. He doesn't want to be stuck with a human so we are on the same page about breaking this. We started looking for answers and he took me back to Earth since it's not good for humans to be in the green dimension for too long.” 

There was silence from the other end of the line for a few seconds. “You're fucking lying,” Tim said. 

“Only by leaving things out.” A bit stung, Jason pulled a hand through his hair and accidentally ruined his good hair day. 

“What are you leaving out?” Tim rejoined swiftly.

Jason laughed at him. “You think you're getting that kinda information in exchange for plane tickets?” He asked incredulously. 

“You are the most annoying person who has ever tried to kill me.”

Ouch. That genuinely stung.

“Fuck off.” Jason slammed the drawers shut. 

“I could guess aliens or supernatural off of what you just said.” Tim ignored Jason’s very good point. “Based off of your trip to the Gotham U campus and-”

“Are you still stalking me?” Jason cut him off, incredulous. He scoffed. “Little buddy, you already got my pixie boots, Red Robin costume, and my Dad. What else do you wanna take from me?”

“I think that you were there to assess Daniel Fenton,” Tim ignored him.

Jason was silent for a moment. There was probably no point in pretending that Tim was wrong. “You already knew about the Fenton’s connection to the supernatural.” He was suddenly tired.

“His older sister is an intern at Arkham, she stepped out of line to get a chance to talk to Jeremy Waters.” Tim didn’t seem to notice that the mood had changed. He was caught up on whatever twenty level plan was whirring away internally.

Jason looked at the wall for a moment, not bothering to think about why that name was familiar. “...and that is…?”

“The guy who kidnapped you, keep up,” Tim snarked. “Her supervisor guessed what she was hinting at, shut her down, put a note about it in the private server so there was a paper trail if she turns out to be a collaborator.”

““Private” is a strong word to describe that server.” Jason rubbed at his jawline and hefted his bag out to the bathroom to gather his shaving kit. 

“Mmhm,” Tim said blandly. “I bugged her phone. The signal is absurdly bad, unexplainably bad. She doesn’t send a lot of messages, but she had a very suspicious call with Daniel Fenton where, among other things, she hinted she had inside knowledge regarding some kind of local mystery, possibly criminal activity. Her brother accused her of supporting crime.”

Jason groaned. “I’m going to interview their parents.” He checked that the razor blades were stowed away correctly before snapping shut the travel case. Then he noticed that his bathroom mirror could use a wipedown. He left his bag for a moment to dig for the cleaner.

“Probably for the best,” Tim said, definitely misunderstanding his purpose. “They seem…” He trailed off when he couldn’t find an appropriate adjective.

“You should read a book,” Jason said, because he saw an opportunity to be an asshole. “Anyway, I wanna get out to the area tonight and see them in the morning. What’s my flight?” He spritzed the glass and watched his reflection blur. It was oddly comforting to not have to stare at his green eyes.

‘That ghost zone was the same green as the Lazarus Pits,’ Jason thought dully. He didn’t really want to think about it. But he had a pretty good idea why he hadn’t had the reaction to the place that Danny expected a human to have.

“Kon could take you,” Tim said sweetly, which was basically a death threat. It was enough to jar him back to the real world. Kon was still not feeling chill about the Titans Tower scuffle. It probably wasn’t good for him to be so petty, but Jason was not going to be the one to tell baby Superdork that.

Jason winced. “I was thinking more like United.”

Tim snickered. 

[yelenasdiary]

Sports nat x sports reader request

Nat and reader are on opposite rival teams and are secretly dating. They don't want the others to know, so they act like rivals. Reader gets hurt during a game, nat rushes over to check on her. worried how bad it is, She picks up reader and carries her to the team medic to be looked at.

Drabble || Competitive

Pairings: Soccer Player! Natasha Romanoff x GN! Soccer Player! Reader

Summary: One would say you're a little competitive when it comes to your soccer, maybe a little too competitive which can lead to injuries.

Tiny Angst, Fluff

Warnings: This is not proof read or corrected! Medical talk | 0.5K

AC: Thank you for sending this! Please note that I have absolutely no knowledge on the sport of soccer, I am a basketball girly and I don't watch/follow soccer so bear with me! I hope you enjoy! x

All eyes were on your team, you were running slightly ahead while still keeping your eyes on the ball that one of your teammates kicked along the grass before giving it a perfect tap, passing it to you. Now, all eyes were on you.

Natasha ran ahead of you, in hopes to stop you from scoring. You knew her little plan which only made you more determined to trick her. In a quick motion, you kicked the white and black ball to your right, your teammate taking control of the ball while you ran a little further.

Your rival team quickly spread themselves out in front of the goals, to prevent the ball from getting any closer. Thinking you had a clear shot, the ball was kicked over to you once more. You tried to gain control of the ball as quickly as you could. Your eyes looking down, you saw another foot touch the ball, tripping you in the process.

You fell down hard, as did the rival team member. Pain striking your left ankle as you brought your knee to your chest, clenching your eyes shut.

"Stop!" you heard Natasha call out, but the game went on. Natasha rushed over to you, her team mate standing back on her feet. "They were in the way" they spat, but Natasha didn't care for any bickering when she lent down next to you.

"Detka, are you okay?" she asked.

"Detka?" the redhead's team mate questioned, "since when do you call the rival baby?" they added with a chuckle. Natasha rolled their eyes while she gently lifted your head. The game coming to a pause as everybody stood around watching the scene unfold.

"I think it's broken" you finally managed to speak, the pain getting worse.

"Oh please, I didn't even touch you" the rival replied.

"Shut up, Ruby!" Natasha scolded, "I'm going to take you to medical" she added, looking back at you, "can you wrap your arms around me?" she asked. You nodded, trying your best to ignore the pain as you did as your girlfriend asked.

She picked you up bridal style and rushed you off the field leaving everybody in slight shock as they watched. You were met with medical as they were coming out with a stretcher, Natasha gently laid you down on the stretcher, and explained that you think your ankle might be broken.

"Thank you, we'll take it from here. You can go back to the game now" a nurse replied.

"No way, I'm staying!" Natasha said, sternly.

"Babe, don't throw the game because of me" you gently reached for her hand, "I'll be fine" you added.

Natasha chuckled lightly, "to hell with the game. Besides, you would've had that goal if it wasn't for Ruby"

"We need to put ice on this, are you coming with us or not?" the nurse asked in a slightly irritated tone.

"Natty, come see me after you lose" you give her a playful wink but she was too stubborn and you knew she wasn't going to leave your side.

"Ice, let's go" she said, taking your hand in hers.

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[nyxronomicon]

no, cause you're absolutely right with your tags. i too put that thought in the bag of dark thoughts that i should never open but i thought of you and said there is always someone who will be able to understand me lskdk and your tags,,, nodding fervently at your tags because i don't see him as a stepbro cause i love the age difference too lol but

i love love love love the idea of him coming into your room at night and waking you up with his fingers inside you and the bulge in his pajama pants pressing from behind. I also imagine him sitting on the couch when it's just you two, he invites you to join him to watch the game or something and it ends in him cockwarming you while playing with your nipples, you can't do anything but take it and feel it throb inside you until he finally cums inside you, but you have to do it fast before your mom/brother (choso maybe megumi) gets home from work <3 so the idea of being caught is very attractive to me

Sigh... *opens dark fantasies filing cabinet and pulls out stepdad Toji folder*

omg you did this on purpose... cockwarming while he plays with your tits??? my WEAKNESS and you added the risk of getting caught RIP RIP RIP i'm DEAD .... i'm sorry... i'm sorry for the sins... my pussy wrote this i swear...

cw: !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!, stepdad!Toji x f!reader, reader is university age, age difference, dub-con (coercion & implied somno), reader has major daddy issues, reader is touch/attention-starved, corruption, pussyjob, cockwarming, praise, titplay, risk of getting caught, slight edging, size (emphasis on Toji's big dick) pet names: princess, angel, good girl, reader is referred to as "step-daughter" but not as a pet name lol 2.2k sinful, sinful words

Your mother didn't even tell you she remarried. You got home from college for the summer to find a stranger and his son living at her place. You were resistant to the whole idea, but she made you promise to give them a chance and spend time with them. They were family now, after all.

Megumi was just a year older than you. He had one more year of university before graduation, so he was in a similar situation as you. You thought maybe you could bond about it, but he wasn't very talkative and showed more interest in his video games than you.

Your new stepdad... Toji Fushiguro. You didn't even know where to start with your thoughts on him. He was sleazy, shameless, and a little more friendly than you'd like. You couldn't really figure out what he did for work, and to be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't do anything. Your mom was a chronic workaholic, constantly gone on work trips and spending late hours at the office. She could easily support the three of you on her own.

There was another thought about him that clawed at the back of your mind. The one you immediately compartmentalized, the forbidden knowledge that once fully synthesized in your mind, you wouldn't be able to erase. It remained in a little bottle, threatening to shatter every time your stepfather got home from the gym. Or took you out to dinner. Or watched a movie with you.

You tried to include Megumi as much as possible at first, if only you have a buffer. Hanging out alone with Toji felt weird. It felt wrong, though you couldn't quite pin why. But Megumi was entirely disinterested in spending time with his dad, and only marginally more interested in getting to know his new stepsister.

After a couple of months of getting used to Toji, you were starting to notice things you liked about him. He was actually there for you, for one. Your mother was never around and in the past, and she never kept a man around long enough for you to have any kind of father figure. It was just you and her, but more often than not, it was really just you. You didn't realize how lonely you were at home but with him here, at least you had someone to talk to.

You let his sleazy comments slide. The few times you'd gone out with friends, he made sure to tell you how sexy you looked. And when you got home, he grilled you on if there were any guys you had an eye on. It always flustered you, reminding you of the forbidden thought trapped in that bottle. But as long as you didn't think about it too hard, it would stay bottled up, where it should be.

You hated to admit that your mother was right. That you liked your new stepdad after giving him a chance. You liked the banter, and he was always complimenting you. He made you feel good about yourself. So in turn, you let him get away with more. When you'd watch TV with him at home, you started cuddling with him. He was warm, comforting. Maybe you were a little old to be cuddling with your stepdad, but he smelled so nice and you always wondered what it would be like.

Your mom was at a conference. Megumi was gaming in the other room. It was like any other night, and you and Toji would be left alone as usual. You were half asleep, cuddled up to his chest, when you felt a hand on your breast. It took a second to process, your gaze suddenly shooting up to your stepdad, who froze in place.

"Oh," he smiled sheepishly. "Still awake, huh?" He whispered.

Your mind instantly replayed the number of times you'd innocently fallen asleep like this, only to wake up horny and wet. He was always sleeping himself, but surely he wasn't so brazen that he made a habit of groping you, his step-daughter, while you slept.

"What are you doing?" You whispered back, glancing at Megumi's door, which was open just a crack. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his hand remained on your tit.

Toji pouted a little, gazing down at you. He knew it was wrong but he always had a weakness for naive college girls. "Sorry, your mother has been gone so much lately, I'm a little... pent up." His finger lightly brushed over your nipple, sending pleasure up your spine.

"Toji, we can't..." You whispered, though you made no motions to stop him. It felt good. He smelled divine. The living room was dark, only lit by the glow of the TV screen. Megumi could emerge from his room any minute and that only made this hotter.

"I know, I know." He agreed with you, but his fingers kept kneading your breast. "I just really like spending time with you. I wanted to take it a little further. Make you feel good." Heat flooded your body. You were sure if he could see your expression, he'd know about the dark thought threatening to take over.

You and your mother had the same taste in men. Admittedly you'd always been fixated on older men, maybe trying to fill the void the lack of a father had. But he filled that void perfectly. The reason it felt weird to spend time with him was because you wanted this. You wanted him to touch you and praise you. And you wanted more.

"I'll stop if you want me to." He added. It was too late, the desire in your body burning a hole in your innocence. The buried feelings you had for him shattered that tiny bottle. You wanted to fuck your stepdad.

Your face felt hot. You looked at the TV, playing sports highlights that you couldn't care less about. The sound was loud enough that you couldn't hear the clacking on Megumi's keyboard. And the sinful thought that entered your mind was that Megumi couldn't hear anything happening in here, either.

"No..." your voice was nearly silent. "Don't stop."

His eyes widened for a moment, movements paused. "Oh?" The empathetic smile on his face was replaced with one of a predator. The man could have torn himself away from you a moment ago but now? Even if you changed your mind he'd be playing those words in his head over and over until he could coerce them from your lips again. "You sure?" He added, in an attempt to appear more respectful than he intended to be.

The glow of the TV highlighted your features as you looked back at him. Your eyes were big and soft, like you were on the verge of taking back the permission you just gave him. Before you could say a word, his free hand tilted your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. All the while, he massaged your breast again, your body melted against his.

"It's ok, princess. Just say the word and I'll stop." His voice was sensual, a soft murmur in your ear before his lips pressed to your neck. Shivers ran up your spine and you arched your back, giving him easier access to your collarbone.

It felt so good. His undivided attention, his touch, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.

You knew you should tell him to stop as he tugged you onto his lap. You straddled his thick thighs, feeling his bulge against your clothed cunt. You knew how wrong it was for you to let him lift your top. The feeling of the forbidden pleasure coursed through you as he peppered kisses on your breasts. He was married to your mother. Thoughts of her long erased by his lips wrapping around your nipple. His tongue flicked the bud as your breathing became unsteady. He had a kid your age. But Toji Fushiguro doted on you, his son in the other room nearly forgotten as his thick fingers felt your pussy through the thin pajama shorts you wore.

Finally, finally you were the favorite. His fingers pushed your shorts and panties aside, sliding his cock into the space between the fabric and your wet cunt. It didn't matter that your mother ignored you in favor of the revolving door of your her lovers anymore. His thick girth was nestled perfectly between your pussy lips. You didn't need to grasp at straws trying to relate to your uninterested stepbrother. Toji's tip danced at your entrance, making you tingle with anticipation as you let yourself drown in his affection.

"So fuckin' sexy..." He mumbled against your breast. The praise nearly made you whimper, glancing at Megumi's cracked door as you bit your lip. "Wanna do me a favor?"

Words still escaped you, meeting his gaze with a shy nod of your head. It was almost cute, as if you were trying to play up the innocent act. Toji wanted nothing more than to flip you on your back and fuck you mercilessly on the couch until you were screaming his name. Get you to admit you'd been flirting and leading him on this whole time. After all, what kind of a slut shows this much interest in her stepdad? But with Megumi in the other room, he needed you quiet. And he knew just the perfect way to tease you.

"Just want you wrapped around me for a minute." He pushed his hips up so you could feel his cock sliding in your folds.

"Toji, we..." you trailed off a moment, considering how desperately you wanted to say yes. Your eyes were on Megumi's door again, dreading the idea that he could get up at any moment and find the two of you like this. "We shouldn't." You whispered.

"It's not sex." His hands were on your ass, encouraging you to grind against his dick. Your body moved with a mind of its own, the friction adding to the heat bubbling in your core. "Just a little cockwarming. It's no big deal."

"I don't know..." You knew there were reasons to say no but none of them came to mind anymore. You were so needy and horny and you felt yourself melting into every touch.

"It'll feel good. Don't you want to feel good?" He pressed his lips to your ear, whispering softly. His finger found your clit, toying with the sensitive bud as you rolled your hips against him.

You didn't answer, freezing up while pleasure coursed through you. Your cunt ached, desperate to be filled with him. You buried your face in his neck, panting as you whined silently in response.

"C'mon, princess." He fingered you faster, a sadistic grin spreading on his face. You were close. He could tell you were close from how fucking wet you were. Even his balls were soaked. "You want me to stop?" He slowed his ministrations, watching your reaction carefully.

"Don't stop." You immediately murmured. Your core frustratingly teetered on edge, frowning at your stepfather for toying with you like this. "Fuck," you moaned softly, careful to remain as silent as possible. You'd had sex before but college boys were nothing compared to him. You'd never ever wanted someone so bad. "I wanna cockwarm you..."

"Good girl." Toji grinned, and the praise went straight to your cunt. He lined himself up, your natural slick more than enough lubrication despite his size. It was a tight fit, he slowly eased your hips down until he bottomed out with a groan. "So good for me... my perfect angel..." admiration dripped from his lips.

The praise alone was enough for your pussy to flutter around him. Your back arched, a lewd expression on your face as your gaze met his. He smirked, now knowing how easy it would be to make you cum. "Stay still for me, princess. No matter what." You eagerly nodded your head, hoping for more praise. But he said nothing, instead groping your tits before latching on again.

He paid close attention to your irregular breathing. As his tongue and teeth tugged at your nipple, one of his hands toyed with your other breast. His free hand slid down your torso and into your panties, swirling around your clit. Your breath hitched, your cunt tightening around him. Feeling how full his big dick made you. You were getting close again as desire bubbled in your core.

You sighed with ecstasy, obediently doing your best not to move around. Slick now drooled onto the base of his cock, your sweet pussy clenching around him as your pleasure heightened, a familiar heat swirling within you. You felt so sensitive, fighting the instincts that were desperate for friction. You bit your knuckle holding back the moan that threatened to burst as Toji's movements sped up.

Your whole body tensed up, your orgasm suddenly and violently washing through you. Your cunt squeezed him as he helped you ride through the pleasure, his hands now gripping your hips to hold you in place. He continued to suck your tit, although his movement slowed to allow you to breathe. Still, he refused to pull out until he felt an aftershock or two strangle his cock.

"Such a good girl." Toji murmured in the shell of your ear, tugging you against his chest and leaning back onto the sofa.

@sourpeachsayshi

[brayneworms]

prompt: l lawliet + food play + pink

wc. 2.8k. gn!reader, foodplay, virgin!l, handjobs, sliiiight come eating, reader is a wet cat in a cardboard box kinda, safe sane and consensual, no real power dynamics.

L contextualises things in the way he sees the world.

Strings of numbers, statistics, behavioural patterns that he's memorised to a 'T' until he can tell guilt from the aversion of an eye or fury from the remnants of nails pressed into the palm of someone's hand. It's why maybe something like sex or desire is a struggle for him. It's not that he doesn't understand it, it's more like he doesn't see the—the need for it, or whatever. You chalk it up to him being extremely busy and also probably totally asexual and don't think about it.

(Don't think about it much.)

It sort of surprises you that it's you he corners with his questions about. Maybe he's more embarrassed than he lets on—as it is, he looks cool as a cucumber save for the faintest shade of pink across his cheekbones. There's no way he would escape a conversation about it from anyone on the squad without a degree of ragging. Misa would squeal like a pig if L dared to broach the topic with her, you're sure. Matsuda would blush bright red and trip over all his words, and Aizawa would probably stare at him like he'd set his firstborn on fire.

And Light is Light. He probably knows little more than L, for all the airs he puts on.

So it's you he comes to. When it first starts, you think it has something to do with a case or lead he's hunting. Tell me, have you had sex before?

Perched like a frog, licking whipped cream off his finger. You don't know if he's doing to be provocative or not; don't know which is worse, that he's aware of what he's doing or not.

"This isn't exactly proper workplace conversation L."

A flicker of a smile. Cheeky, omniscient. "Feel free to report me to HR, in that case."

You do answer—honestly and concisely, if not with a shade of awkwardness. He's essentially your boss. But L seems so far removed from the worlds of sexuality and desire that it seems harmless, occupational, and eventually it stops feeling embarrassing. Out of nowhere—what is the purpose of restrains in an intimate context? Why do you think some people like to feel as though they have no control in the bedroom? Would you say that visual pornography has given watchers unrealistic expectations of actual intercourse?

One night, the two of you alone in front of a big glowing screen, turning to him and asking. "Why do you ask me this stuff, anyway? Is it for a case?"

"No," he says neutrally. A quick glance from his dark eyes you could almost describe as coy. "I'm just... curious."

"Curious," you echo, deadpan. "You?"

"Does that surprise you?" he murmurs. You almost feel that your honest answer—yes—would be insulting now, so instead you just shrug and mumble something incoherent under your breath. "You're not completely wrong. I thought having a better understanding of things like sex and power dynamics would be beneficial in the long run. Most people have a greater knowledge of it than me, which—puts me at a disadvantage." He says these last words with an air of revulsion, as though the very concept of knowing less than someone sours in his mouth, and you chuckle at his childishness.

"That makes sense." You pause. Wonder if you're reading this all wrong, then barrel ahead anyway. "Wouldn't actually experiencing it for yourself lend a better understanding than anything else, though?"

L's eyebrow raises. His smile has vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and unreadable. "What are you suggesting?"

He's not stupid, and you're not subtle. He knows exactly what you were suggesting. The fact that he's trying to get you to go into more detail rather than firing you on the spot is probably a good sign, and further than you expected to get. You squirm in your seat.

"You know. It's like being told about how something feels rather than knowing," you say awkwardly. "I'm just—can I ask—"

"It only seems fair," L says slowly. "After I've been badgering you with my own questions for so long." His chair spins; he rests his wrists on his rucked-up knees, fingers steepled in front of him. "Please."

Hot-faced, you spin your chair aimlessly. "Okay, well, uh—have you? I mean, before?"

L hesitates before he shakes his head, an almost imperceptible twitch that has his dark hair floating. You swallow the sudden large dry lump in your throat.

"Okay. So. Probably somewhere to start," you mumble.

L seems to consider this. "Would you be willing?"

You don't have the right to be surprised, with all the dancing around the subject, but you are, still. You choke on your spit and fly around to look at him, which is a mistake. His gaze is so dark and intense, and you think he can see right through you before you even open your mouth to answer.

"I'm not—" you stammer, with no idea what you're going to say. "I mean—"

"I had assumed you would be," L goes on calmly, but you catch the slight flicker of his eyes, a ghost of uncertainty that makes your chest squeeze. "If I have read your responses incorrectly, though, feel free to forget I asked. I can guarantee no awkwardness tomorrow."

"It's not that," you blurt. L blinks at you, go on. "It's just... do you have any idea what you're, you know. Into? Where to start?"

L's eyes flicker, the barest furrow knitted between his brows. You can tell he hasn't thought too hard about it. "What would you suggest?" he asks, curling his long fingers over his knees.

You swallow. "Well... anything you like the idea of, I guess. Something familiar, to ease you into it."

L's eyes roll over to his desk, where a perfectly glistening slice of strawberry cake waits for him. Pink sponge and halved red berries, topped with pale pink cream. "Familiar," he echoes. "I may have a suggestion."

-

So you feed L a strawberry just to get started.

Hold it up. It's distinctly awkward; L just stares at it for a moment, the berry dusted with frosting that glistens between your fingers. You tell him, "If you're not comfortable with this, sex is probably going to be—"

He leans forward and plucks the fruit from between your fingers; you feel the barest ghosting of teeth, the sweep of his tongue sharp and curious against the pads of your fingers before he leans back again. You watch the motions of his jaw and throat as he chews and swallows. Pins you with his headlamp stare, wide and dark.

You deconstruct the strawberry cake carefully, removing the berries and setting them to the side. Cast a look over at him. "Take off your shirt?"

L twists the hem of this shirt for a few moments before removing it. It feels so strange to see him devoid of clothing, like a knight removing their armour. Pale ribs, pinched waist. He's not whipcord-thin like you had imagined—there's lean muscle packed under the skin, his stomach flat and somewhat soft. It flexes almost nervously when you look at it. He reclines back on his bed without being told, bracing his weight onto his elbows, legs dangling off the side.

"You sure about all this?" you ask, glancing from the smooth planes of his white skin—shit—to the plate of crumbling pink dessert. "Didn't think you'd be into, you know. All the mess."

"I have a shower," L says reflexively.

You take that as permission to approach with the plate. You place the strawberry halves in a red dotted line, starting at his clavicle, watching him shiver and flex at the cold touch. Down—one at the bottom of his ribs, one above his bellybutton, one at his naval just above the low sling of his jeans. He's started to flush, prettily pink down his chest. It makes you slightly dizzy.

"Okay. So. Okay." You try not to feel so nervous, but it's more like you feel out of place, or time, or space. It feels surreal, basically. Standing between L's legs with your fingers stained pink from fruit and frosting. Him looking up at you like that, all big dark round eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn it. You take a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, so, I'll start now if you're okay. And just say if you don't want—if you want to stop, or if you don't like anything, just say, okay?"

"I understand the basic premises of consent, if that's what you're trying to affirm." The words are all L, but there's an element of breathlessness to them.

"Just making sure we're clear," you mutter. You lean forward and smooth a palm over his collarbones. They're sharp, they jut up to meet your hand like cut diamond, and you hear and see his breath hitch, which is slightly intoxicating. His skin is warmer and softer than you thought it would be. You run your hands over his shoulders and neck, which he squirms away from with a wrinkled nose.

"No neck?" you ask.

He shakes his head. So no neck.

Once you're done exploring this part of his body, you lean forward, close your lips around the strawberry and bite the end of it, sinking your teeth into the flesh. Pink juice runs down your chin; L's eyes follow it, transfixed, as you tilt your head forward and push your mouthful against his lips. They part unquestioningly, and you push the strawberry into his mouth with your tongue. Your lips brush together, tantalising and sweet with sugar. A mimic of a kiss, a palimpsest of intimacy. You don't want to overwhelm him, anyway.

This goes on; your hands over his chest next, the soft pectorals. An experimental brush of your thumb over his left nipple that makes his whole body shudder. He's so sensitive, reacting to every prod and touch and tweak with a jerk and a shiver. Gooseflesh blooms up his skin, pebbling his nipples, and when you tweak the other one gently he lets out a choked sound.

Finding the strawberry nestled under his ribs. Taking it between your teeth and passing it to him. His face gets pinker with each one. Stomach, concave, flexing with every hard breath. A ticklish spot over his belly button. Strawberry, bite, pass. The flex of his jaw as he chews.

Fingers over his waist, indenting the skin as much as you dare. You try not to think of how easily he would bruise. Brushing your touch over his lower abdomen makes his breath catch again. You find the strawberry, hold it between your lips. L cranes his neck, searching this time—he thinks he knows the game, has memorised the steps, found the pattern, the sequence. He doesn't know that the best sex is the unpredictable kind. This time, you press your lips against him and when your tongue pushes the strawberry into his mouth it stays there. His lips part, slack against yours, either in shock or inexperience. You allow yourself the briefest twirl of your tongue against his before pulling back with a wet pop.

L stares at you as you retreat. The strawberries leave pale pink residue on his skin. Pulling back fully reveals the hardness between his legs, pushing up against the dark denim of his jeans. He grunts when your eyes land on it, either out of embarrassment or frustration. You swallow and its like sandpaper.

"Still want me to...?"

"I have not changed my mind," he replies, slightly hoarsely and a beat slower than usual. You shrug, smooth your hands over the tent at his crotch, and he whines. It's the most searing noise you've pulled from him yet, and all from some halfhearted palming over the jeans. It sends a thrill zipping through you, hot and addicting. His arms shake with the weight of holding himself up, neck craning to follow as you sink to your knees between his legs.

You unzip him, pop the button, and he groans slightly at the freedom from the constraints of his clothes. He's fully hard, straining against his dark underwear. You experiment, rubbing at the tip, feeling for the wet spot, and he keens and thrashes, losing his stability and crashing to the mattress. He makes a frustrated noise just after, as though cursing himself for his own lack of control.

"That—" he swallows hard, breathes shakily. "That feels..."

Your hand hovers. "Am I stopping?"

"No, I don't..." He scrambles. L scrambles over his words. "Please, continue."

You stroke him over his underwear for a few concentrated minutes, mostly enjoying the way he twitches and huffs and occasionally makes soft, whiny noises, the way he starts to rut his hips against your hand. No technique, no rhythm, just some sort of baseless desire that you find incredibly hot. There's almost a frustration to it that makes you want to laugh—of course there would be nothing more agonising to someone like L than seeing what he wanted so close to him but being unable to accomplish it himself.

When he starts gritting his teeth, you pull his boxers down to his thighs and he makes a choking, embarrassed sound. When you wrap your fingers around his cock for the first time, finding it velvety-soft and leaking, his eyes roll back and his hips arch into the loose wet tunnel of your hand. "Oh," is all he says. Small and soft like he's surprised. His neck twists and his mouth presses into the starched white sheets. "Oh," he says again as your fist moves slowly, stroking with intent, up and down. He's not overly big, fits nicely in your hand, makes swiping over the head where the pre beads with your thumb nice and convenient. And you love the way he shudders and thrashes when you do it.

"How does that feel?" Your voice is lower than you remember it being. L cracks a bleary eye open; his face is flushed bright pink now, a flush that bleeds all the way down his chest, blending in with the strawberry stains.

"It feels," he starts, before his brow pinches. "I—I am not sure how to—how to describe..."

"It's okay," you tell him. His thighs shake, flexing against the edge of the mattress. When he tips his head back the cords in his pretty throat bulge, so biteable. "You can come whenever."

"I wasn't—oh," he gasps, squirming. "I wasn't aware I n-needed your—permission, oh."

"Yeah, well," you say intelligently, a little struck dumb by the sight before you. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

"A-and what page is that?" he pants, thrusting his hips messily into your hand. He's so fucking sensitive that you swear you can see his eyes growing shiny.

"The one where I help you out, so don't be a brat," you murmur. L laughs breathlessly, trying, you think, to summon some retort. You twist your fist around him and it died, half-formed in his brain, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing hard in the sheets.

After another minute, he reaches out and grabs your wrist hard enough to bruise. He doesn't say it—can't, maybe. But you know. Your pace speeds up just a touch and he honest to god moans, spilling out of him soft and breathy before he comes, streaking over his stomach in pearly arcs. You watch him flinch at the contact, fingers slipping on your wrist. His chest flexes—in, out, in, out.

You collect a big scoop of pink frosting on your finger and dip it in the come starting to cool between his pecs before pressing it to his lips. L's brow wrinkles, startled—but he opens his lips and lets your fingers pass into the hot cavern of his mouth. Like a cat he licks your finger clean, pointed pink tongue prodding with no technique or flourish, just something steadfast, something stubborn.

You do him the dignity of tucking his softened cock back into his underwear and zipping up his jeans. Unsure how to proceed until L sits up rather abruptly. His hair is even more tousled from his tossing and turning as he reaches for a tissue to wipe himself down.

He looks at you. "I understand it's customary to offer some sort of equivalent exchange in these circumstances." A pause whilst he gathers his breath. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not quite feeling up to the task."

His tone is normal, if a little shaky. You rock back on your heels. "Did you like it?"

L blinks at you. "My curiosity has been sated," he says, carefully. "Yes, I believe I did enjoy it."

Well, that's a relief if nothing else. The pink remnants of the strawberry cake it on the plate; the shade matches his blush.

[queenpiranhadon]

okay I'm sorry but I'm in celebrity Satoru Gojo married to actress reader chokehold.

Don't know how aware you all are about the one video where Ryan Reynolds interviews Brandon Sklenar because he's playing the love interest of his wife's character and that is PEAK Gojo behavior.

You're actually in a different city while this is happening, off for an interview with Buzzfeed.

Anyways, your upcoming movie, titled In the Stars, is about a young woman named Sora who had been diagnosed with cancer, and with only a few months left to live, she decides to live the life she's always wanted. One of love.

She eventually decides to pursue one of her lifelong interests of stargazing, something she's always been interested in as a child. Sora however never got to achieve her dream of becoming an astrologist due to her father's death at age 17, having to now juggle hospital and funeral bills without a very stable job.

With only a few hours to live however, she goes camping, only to almost murder a man who encounters her campsite by accident because she was startled.

The man's name was Daichi, he was a college professor who taught astronomy and was immediately overjoyed at Sora's enthusiasm for the sky.

The two ended up becoming close friends, regularly going out to camp with each other, and slowly gaining feelings along the way.

However, they're too late.

After one last camping trip, Sora wakes up vomiting uncontrollably and Daichi worriedly takes her to the hospital.

She's hooked up to millions of tubes and liquids, but it's futile. Sora passes away, leaving Daichi to mourn her on earth, hoping she's happy in the stars.

It's a relatively cliche plot, and yet, the movie becomes such a big hit because of you. The way you portray your character with so much genuine pain and longing, is what hooked the world in from the start.

Satoru couldn't have been more proud of you.

He's just a little disgruntled that your "love story" wasn't with him.

He knew it wasn't serious, but Satoru Gojo also tended to have a jealous streak - after watching the trailer for the movie he was unimpressed, because no one who truly loves you would ever look at you that way.

However that knowledge did help him feel a little better because it was just a movie after all, just acting.

That didn't stop him from causing shenanigans though.

Your coworker was a nice guy, his name was Ren Akiyama, and he was just a few years younger than Satoru and yourself.

The interviewer exits abruptly, leaving Ren confused in his chair, only for the famous Satoru Gojo to enter the set and sit in the interviewer's chair, with some cards of his own.

Ren looks around, muttering an "Oh boy, get me out of here", as your husband clears his throat, cameras trained on him.

"So...Ren, is it? You and Mrs. Gojo seem very close, do you call her anything special, like a nickname or-"

Ren cuts him off with a shake of his head. "No sir."

The interview begins to resemble that of every father's first interrogation of his daughter boyfriend, except in very different circumstance as we see Satoru grill the poor man about his relationship with you.

It's hilarious and endearing, seeing how much Satoru loves you and his interactions with Ren are quite entertaining as well.

It's even more adorable when the press catch you and Satoru going into the theaters to watch your movie, even after watching the premiere and seeing Satoru's eyes visibly tear up as he holds you tight, watching Sora's last living moments in her hospital bed, Daichi by her side.

He really does love you so much.

A/N: I acc loved writing this omg hahah - should I write more about this??

[leviraaaaaa]

Farewell, Captain. (Levi Ackerman x injured!reader)

Cw: mentions of blood.

Summary: Levi Ackerman finds you in the verge of death.

-

It was going to rain

You bit down on your lip in worry. This was bad.

The expedition was supposed to be a small, short one. Just to catch a new titan or two for Hange's experiments. Go out, catch them, come back.

It was a small squad, about 15 people only. Section Commander Hange had picked out only a few to accompany. Being Levi's second, and one of the most treasured soldier in the military, usually they wouldn't call you for such simple tasks. The only reason you were asked to tag along was because you were also section commander Hange's assistant, you helped them in conducting the titan experiments. You didn't really mind as you had nothing better to do anyways. And by now, these small expeditions doesn't scare you as much as they used to.

You were ranked at the rear of the formation, along with two more. On one side, Sasha rode besides you, deeply focused. Captain Levi had, for some reason ordered her to come as well, to your joy (Though you suspected it was more of a punishment to stop her from stealing food, since banning her from meals only made the problem worse). You were glad hearing your best friend's coming too as the journey would be far less boring, although Sasha wasn't too enthusiastic. She kept groaning about how hungry she was and how she'd have to wait a couple more hours before she gets some food. (Irritated also because captain Levi had stripped her out of all hidden snacks before setting out.)

On the other side of you were a new recruit. She was in Section Commander Hange's squad, recruited because of her apparent brains in therotical knowledge. But Hange wanted her to have a bit of experience on the outside world too, so there she was. First ever expedition. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf.

Two nights ago, the special operations squad was sent out to clear the area out of any titans, baiting them towards where the trap was set along the South-East abandoned Tsuchou town. So the route was expected to be safe. And though precautions were taken, you and your teammates were much more relaxed, as you rode along, joking and laughing.

Except the new girl. She'd been rigid as stone since you've set out.

Suddenly, the girl closed the distance between you, pulling her horse so near, your legs almost touched. You looked at her, surprised. She'd been keeping noticable distance from you and Sasha until now.

"It's... it's going to rain, won't it?" She muttered quietly, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes.

You looked up and nodded, eyes shifting to the sky. "It appears so, yes."

"How long are we going to go on for?"

"Just a little further. We should be by the traps in about an hour."

The girl's shoulders visibly sunk, her face falling. "Another hour?"

"Hey," you called out softly, noticing the fear in her body language. She looked pitiful. "It's going to be fine. I know exactly what you must feel like but I promise you nothing's going to go wrong today. It's just a short trip, so hang on okay?"

Sasha shot an encouraging smile to her following your words.

She pursed her lips, giving a tight nod. Her hands gripped the reins tighter.

"I know..it's just..it feels so wrong." She whispered. "The sky was fine when we came out, then it turned dark within moments."

You understood. It really had been a good day. Or so it had seemed when the expedition began. Bright blue sky without a single cloud. Then half an hour in, it turned dark, thick black clouds appearing out of nowhere. And wind was blowing so heavy you could barely keep your eyes open, the dust that was getting kicked up by the horses kept flying into them.

It did feel wrong.

You thought about it for a second as you watched the girl gradually shifting further, regaining the distance. Her eyes unfocused, a worried expression settled.

"Sash, think I'm gonna go ahead." You told Sasha.

Sasha immediately started shaking her head but she barely had time to got any words out before you squeezed the horse's sides, telling her to speed up. She did, hooves clashing against the ground, leaving small clouds of dust. You passed through your comrades, ignoring their side eyes.

Breaking ranks was absolutely unpermitted unless in life threatening situations. But when you're favoured by the higher ups and second to none but Levi Ackerman, you get a lot of free passes and unspoken privileges—which, needless to point out, you abused whenever you could.

You speedened up until the familiar figure caught your eye. Nudging your horse, you manurvered it towards him, catching up to him in moments

Levi glanced at you sideways with narrowed eyes, annoyance flashing through his features at your appearance.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue. "Why the hell did you leave your post? Just because it's not an actual expedition doesn't mean-"

"Yeah, yeah" You cut him off, not in the mood for a lecture. Levi's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything. He never did.

If it was anyone else but you, Levi would have taught you a lesson right there. And if it was anyone but Levi, you would for sure at the very least be demoted for speaking in such tone. But though none of you would admit it, the relationship between you and Levi were much casual than it should be between a commanding officer and a soldier.

"It's going to rain, captain." You pointed towards the sky. "I don't like this. Can't we camp out or something? We've cleared out the area two nights ago anyways, there shouldn't be titans around. It'll be safe and we can continue later."

Levi sighed. "Tell that to four-eyes. I tried. They won't listen to me. Keeps saying, 'its not much further'."

You grimaced. When it came to titans, section commander Hange lost all rationality. "It won't be a light rain either. Looks like a fucking storm is coming."

Levi nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do." He huffed "You don't have to worry about it. "

"I'll be hella pissed if I get drenched, I swear."

"No one asked. And go back to your damn post, you little pest." He finished sharply, giving you a warning glance.

You obligated, even you knew when to step back. Pulling down on the reins, you slowed your horse down, turning it around to go back to your original spot. Sasha and the new recruit were staring wide eyed.

"You really need to stop doing that. One of these days, captain Levi will just go batshit on you." Sasha shook her head, a grin on her face.

"We'll see." You snorted.

"Seriously, I don't even know why he lets you screw around like this, if it was any of us-"

"Did you ask him about the rain?" The rookies high pitched voice cut Sasha off. She was staring at you, face contorted in anticipation.

"Yeah, kid." You responded gloomily. "Don't think they'll stop unless it actually starts raining."

She didn't say anything, just looked away, distancing herself with her horse again, knuckles taut on the reins.

"She's just scared." Sasha muttered, glancing at her.

"Weren't we all?"

"Don't remind me." She shuddered at the reminder of our first expedition—the one where more than half of us were massacred by the female titan.

You watched the sky with squinted eyes, as the clouds had covered the last rays of the sun, creating an eerie dark ambience, even making you shift warily in your position.

The kid was right, it felt wrong.

Somewhere far away, thunder rolled. Once. Twice. The rumbling sound was almost deafening.

That's when the first drop of rain hit your face. It rolled down your cheek and fell on the ground.

And then the sky crashed down upon the earth.

A curse escaped your lips, completely unprepared for the sudden phenomenon. Surprised yelps from others joined yours. Hastily, you wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly to regain some warmth that you lost.

Oh dear. This was definitely bad .

Within seconds, the world was white. You couldn't see anything. Only faint outlines and blurred green. Somewhere far front, you heard Hange groan and Moblit screaming out to move out to far right to the forest to take shelter underneath the trees.

Despite being half blind, you followed the orders, pulling the reins. You felt the thuds of Sasha's and the new recruits horses match yours.

Then Sasha gasped.

She hissed out your name, her voice terrified.

"Titans." She whispered.

Your heart fell. No.

"What?" You yelled out, praying to God you heard wrong.

"I can hear titans!" Sasha said louder this time, the panic in her tone clear. "From everywhere!"

Damn Sasha and her extraordinary hearing abilities.

"Shit. Shit shit shit!" You cursed out. Why? How? The area was supposed to be clear. Why were they swarming on you then?!

"We have to let the others know!"

"How!? The rain is too thick and loud for the signal guns to be seen or heard! Hell, we probably won't even hear titans come up until they're breathing down our damn necks!" You were losing your cool, the panic settling in.

Scouts did not go out in expeditions when it rained. It was a rule. Never.

But here the fuck you were.

You heard the rookie whimper right beside your ear. Your head turned to see her almost over your shoulders, eyes wide with terror as she heard the conversation, eyes switching from Sasha to you.

"It'll be fine." You said to her, trying to calm down for her sake. But you knew as well, the chances of it being fine was next to fucking zero because Sasha's ears were too fucking accurate. "It'll be fine, just stick close to me-"

The terrified yelps of several people up front cut you off and your blood froze.

A huge, enormous figure standing before you, staring down with wide, hungry eyes. A creepy smile on its face.

You stilled, right there. Your breathing stopped.

No no no.

Not here.

Your horse reacted before you processed it, throwing itself to the side just as the titans feet slammed against the ground just where you've been, sending tremors down the earth. It's grubby hand swooshed over your head.

The mount flailed wildly as you tried to keep balance. You were about to whip the reins and get the hell out of there when another cry pierced through your bones.

From much, much close.

The rookie.

You whipped your head to see the girl running the exact fucking opposite way, the titan following right behind with big, heavy thuds.

You didn't even care where Sasha might be.

She was experienced, she'd be fine.

The kid won't be fine.

In a split second decision, you turned your mount around, grabbing it's neck as it charged in full speed following the titan, speedily crossing it.

You were going in the forest.

Not the wisest decision you've made because you still couldn't see anything except for the outline of the titan behind you, you could crash into a tree any second.

But fuck.

"Hey, you moron! Come back here!" You yelled out to her in frustration and desperation. She didn't even turn around, only speedened up. "That's the wrong fucking way! Turn around!"

You moved, fast as the wind, raindrops stabbing your face like tiny little frost needles, making you wince.

You entered the forest, deeper, deeper.

This was bad.

And then it got worse.

It was the red that caught your eyes. The type of red you could recognize anywhere.

Blood was splattered all across the ground, the rainwater washing it away.

Oh no no no.

The crunch of human bones jolted you awake as you looked up to see the titan that had been the cause of it. You stared. Stared. Stared as it stared back at you.

You looked down, right there on the foot of it, rolling around was the detached head of the girl.

You gazed back up.

And then you saw two more. Slowly, steadily coming out of the forest, disturbingly enlarged organs swinging with every steps.

3 titans in front. 1 in the back.

What have you done.

You had barely turned your gear switch on when the first titan struck, stomping down your horse. Just in time, with the gap of a second from being smashed, you pressed on the triggers, the wires shooting forward, planting to whatever surface they had found and pulling you with it.

It was reckless. Stupid. Using ODM gear when you couldn't see shit. But you were in a forest so hopefully it'll randomly latch onto trees. Or it could fucking slip because of the rain and you could die. But you took your chance, not that you had a choice.

One of the advantages titans had was that they could see clearly in the rain. Their enormous pupils followed your movements, hands reaching out to grab you. You twisted just in time, releasing the wires and shooting them again, using them to swing yourself further and faster.

And you did that. Every time the wires shot out, your heart caught in your throat thinking it'd miss and find nothing to latch onto but fate must've had your back because it didn't.

Until it did.

Perhaps it was the stupid rush of confidence you gained from moving so perfectly, that you had speedened up. That was the downfall. Though one had latched, the other anchor slipped, missing the branch and instead going over it. The moment you realized it, you knew it was over.

The momentum from before and the pull of the wires, you slammed against the trees, hitting your head so hard, you felt your skull crack, the pain ripping through your brain. The anchor that had latched onto the tree didn't bury itself properly and you clashed right against it. The metal hook went straight through your shoulders. And nothing could ever have prepared you for the agony that panged through.

You dropped, back clashing against the ground. You lied there, sprawled and bleeding out, the rain pooling in your eyes, blurrying your already hazy vision from hitting your head so hard. But you watched the titans surround you, an almost giddy look crossing their stupid expressions.

Those little fuckers.

And so you watched, helplessly, as one of them reached out, pulling you up by your legs, your head dangling upside down.

And all you saw was big wide eyes and gaped jaws.

One of the other reached out, wrapping it's fat fingers around your midsections, pulling you towards itself. The one holding you groaned, pulling you back, as if it didn't really want to share. Your abdominal muscles and organs strech to the point you thought you'd split in half.

What a shit way to die, you thought.

You survived Shiganshina, you survived Trost, you survived that damn 57th expedition.

And you were going to die here.

Alone.

While four fucking ugly as hell titans fought about who got to eat you.

'Second to none but Levi Ackerman', your ass.

But your friends, you thought. Eren had yet so much to go, that you won't be there to see. Before you left, when you've said goodbye to Connie and Jean, you smacked both of them in the head, that wasn't a good farewell, was it? Sasha would go hungry during meals because you won't be there to share half your food.

You wondered if captain would be the slightest bit of sad.

Had he noticed you missing by now? Would he miss the little banters and bickerings you had every day with him? Would he be disappointed that you were going out in such a lame way?

You closed your eyes, dangling upside down was not helping your case. Your head was starting to get empty as you felt the blood pool down in your head.

That's good. At least you won't be conscious while you die.

It won't hurt.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four. Five. Six. Seven....one,five, four? Ticktocktickticktocktick-

Then you fell.

It wasn't a gentle drop You hit the ground again, full force. And this time you felt your leg bend awkwardly, a bone snapped.

But it didn't hurt, not really. You were too numb by now.

You felt the ground shook as something heavy impacted. Four times. Followed by loud, gutteral animalistic growls of a titan.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

One. Two. Three. Four.

But it was the sharp metallic sound of a sword clanging was what woke you up.

Your eyes opened and you saw steam.

Ah. Were the titans dead?

But who killed them?

Your head turned sheepishly and you found the answer.

There was Levi, staring at you with wide, wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. His swords were discarded by his side and he just stood there. Was his hands shaking?

Oh, that's funny. That's the first ever time you've seen captain react that much. He looked funny with such big eyes. Was it because of how filthy you were? You couldn't see yourself, but you knew. You must've been caked in blood and mud. Is that why captain was so shocked?

Your mind was so fuzzy, you wanted to go to sleep. Would the captain mind if you fell asleep here? In this filth?

Levi finally registered the sight. He shifted, still in a daze, and then he dropped, straddling you. Careful enough to not let any of his body weight touch you.

He looked so scared.

"Shit." He muttered. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Oi brat—" His hands closed around your arms, shaking you. Your brain felt as if it rattled in your head. "Fuck–can you hear me?"

His hand pressed against your face and he flinched at how cold you were. You only stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

Then, weakly, with all you had, you parted your lips, the words barely audible.

"...welcome to the party, captain. Bit late though I'm afraid." You mumbled. "You do realize shaking me doesn't actually help, don't you? Unless you want me to throw up or something."

Levi felt his heart hitch.

"You little shit–" he took a sharp breath. Then slowly, carefully, he slightly shifted you holding your hair back to inspect how bad the damage was, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"I'm a goner, aren't I?" you muttered quietly, wincing when one of his fingers accidentally grazed against the injury. Levi immediately pulled his hand back, his hand stained red.

"Shut up." He hissed, trying to keep his growing anxiety from showing. "You're bleeding like shit. Thats way too much blood."

"I'm aware, can't help it." you groaned when your leg moved a bit too much, "Got it on your clothes too."

"I could care fuck less about it right now, you dumbfuck." Levi snapped out. The he shifted off of you, kneeling beside. He unhooked the green cloak around him with fast fingers. The green surface was smeared with dark red in places.

Carefully, he pulled you up by the shoulders, cradling you against his chest. You almost cried at the sudden feeling of warmth, and the sharp wave of pain that shot through your bent leg. Tears stinged your eyes. "Bite me. I knew you cared." You joked, an attempt to lighten the dire situation and to ignore the way your whole body ached and how you already felt the lack of oxygen in the air. Levi let out an irritated breath as he used the cloak to wrap around your head to stop the bleeding. His breathing loud and heavy beside your ear. "Can you shut up, you ungrateful brat? I'm trying to save your damn life."

Levi worked so gently, it was unfamiliar. You wondered as your head rested on his shoulder and his hands worked around you, every movement slow and careful, trying his best not to hurt you more.

Ah, so even the harsh captain can be this gentle. And despite emptiness clouding your head, you felt slightly glad. At least you got to see this side of him. This is a nice way to die.

As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, his jaw tightened. "Don't even think about dying. That's a fucking order."

If only the world worked like that.

Levi knew he wasn't doing a good job. His hands shook too much, and it was causing you unnecessary pain. He froze everytime you winced, taking a few seconds until you stilled, then continuing. He was also aware of how dirty the fabric was, with dirt and mud, but this'd have to. It's either this or watching you bleed out to death.

"Okay," he whispered quietly under his breath, more to reassure himself than you. He turned you so he could see your face. An absolutely panic stricken look passes him when he sees the tears. "Fuck, Did I hurt you too much? Does it still hurt?"

You sniffled, mouth twitching to a grin. You tried to ignore the pounding in your head. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."

Levi nodded, his eyes shifting to your shoulder. "How the fuck did this even happen?" He hissed sharply, seeing the metal anchor buried deep in the flesh. "Even when you get injured, it's in the stupidest ways possible." He thought about it for a second, biting the insides of his cheek. Unsure what to do. Then he sighed. "Shit. It's best to let it stay there. If I try to pull it out, might accidentally tear something. And the bleeding would be too much to handle."

"Nice." You groaned, then all of a sudden, broke into a fit of coughs, blood spilling out with each jolt. Levi's eyes widened at the sight, pupils blown out.

"The titans." You coughed, trying to explain. "Must've fucked up my insides. The grip was too tight."

Levi frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, uncaring of the grime and filth. His face screwed up and eyebrows knitted together, the fear in his eyes wide and clear. Internal bleeding was much, much concerning.

"Captain," the word was a groan. Your eyes were so heavy, begging to go to rest. Would that be so bad? "...I don't think I can make this one out. I'm dying, aren't I?"

"No you're not. But if you don't stop talking, I might actually make you a goner." Levi deadpanned while going over your leg. You snorted, the slight action paining you. But it was nice. With him fussing over.

"Come on, we gotta get you back-hey–" he slapped your cheek, seeing your eyes flutter. Gentle but sharp. "Don't pass out, kid. Better keep those damn eyes open. Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake, you hear me?"

His fingers fiddled with your uniform straps, removing the gas tanks and the overall gears. He had to cut down the wire that stuck with hook that was latched to your shoulder since he couldn't take it out. The removal of the extra weight made you feel slightly better.

"Alright," Cautiously, he hooked one arm over your shoulder, the other under your knees. "Brace yourself, this is going to hurt as fuck." Then, though carefully, with one sweep pull, he picked you up. And despite his warning, and the mental preparation, he was right. It hurt like shit. A soft cry escaped your lips. "I'm sorry, just–just hang on." He mumbled, cradling you close to him, adjusting your head so that it rested against his shoulder. He knew it wasn't the most ideal position as it'd be hard for him to move with ODM while holding you like this, not to mention your leg would not probably be in the best state either. But he couldn't think of a better position, your head needed support, he couldn't let any weight on your abdominal muscles either.

Then without moving his arms from beneath you, he reached for the ODM triggers with his hands and pressed his fingers down.

The takeoff was the final push. The jolt as he kicked off the ground and the pain that followed right after was the limit. You knew you were going to die.

"You pretend like you don't give two shits, but you're going to miss me once I'm gone aren't you?" The words escaped you without thinking. You weren't really thinking at all, it's just this urge that took over. But if you're going to die, you wanted to keep talking. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to scowl and snap at you to shut up. So until you can't, you wanted to keep talking. One last bicker. Never in your life had you thought he'd be the one to hear your last words or that his ones would be the last you'd hear. And you didn't mind. At all.

"Fuck off." He responded coldly.

"I'm serious."

"You're serious? Now that's a shocker."

There he went, from one tree to another. You grinned, looking up at his contorted face. He was trying so hard not to panic, his eyes flicking from you to the route.

"Captain."

"Can't you just keep your mouth shut for once in your fucking life?"

"Said life's on the verge of death, so I'd rather not."

"Stop saying shit like that. You're not dying on me."

You sighed. He was wrong. You were indeed dying on him. Despite the warmth of his body pressed against you, you could feel your own temperature lowering dangerously. The cloak he had used as a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding weren't helping much better either as you felt blood trickle over your eyes. You felt weak, dizzy, disassociated. You could barely remember where you are and where you're going.

"Captain. Thank you for choosing me."

"What?" Levi's eyes shifted towards you, surprised and confused. It was such a strange sight. The bangs he so carefully kept were now all messy and disheveled, some strands sticking to his face with sweat. You returned his silvery gaze.

"Thank you for choosing me. Letting me be a part of your squad. Saving my ass everytime I fucked up. For everything, really. You weren't the nicest, but you have a good heart. And I'm not the best at expressing gratitude but I had to let you know."

"Shut up." Levi hissed through gritted teeth, his voice cracked ever so slightly. The rain had lessened into a drizzle.

"Once I'm gone, there won't be anyone to nag you to go to sleep. Remember to take breaks, won't you?"

Levi wouldn't look at you. He couldn't look at you. But his hold tightened. "Shut the fuck up. Keep talking and I'll drop you." Oh, but you had to keep talking. Your breaths were numbered you could tell. And you wanted to spend them on talking.

"And hydrate. Don't drink too much tea. Stop being mean to Hange and Eren. Let Sasha eat, don't ban her from meals when she fucks up.." the words slurred, your voice becoming quieter with every words and each were punctuated with heavy and heavier gasps. Your eyes closed. The light was too bright for you. And blood was pooling inside your mouth, choking you. "..they care for you. I hope you know that. So be nice every once a while. It won't kill you I swear."

Levi sucked in a breath. "Oi, brat." His voice was so far, so far away. You wanted to reach out and hold on to it, somehow wrap yourself around it. So unlike the usual stoic and dry comments he'd send through your way.. "...I take it back. Don't shut up. Keep talking. Keep blabbering whatever the fuck- Don't die on me, not like this–shit–not like this—" Guess he did care after all. "—stay with me, come on, stay with me.–"

You were fading. Drowning. Floating. But you heard him. His words a broken record, repeating over and over in your brain—staywithmestaywithmestaywithme…

You apologized silently. You would if you could. But the air was choking you and you couldn't stay any longer. You'd stay with his mean ass for life if you had the choice, didn't he know? Didn't he know you dedicated your heart for him?

Oh. Time's out.

Goodbye.

Captain.

(might write a part 2 lol)

[squinch-depraved]

okay okay hear me out schlatt walkin in and catching you humping one of the rammie plushies?

shoutout my rammie pillow plush this is the one we're gonna be talking about today teehee (for NO PARTICULAR REASON SHUT UP)

schlatt comes home to a dark apartment

it's late, he's not surprised

but what does surprise him is the cacophony of whorish moans coming from your shared bedroom

he's come home to you getting off before; you were mortified the first time you walked out to find him sitting on the couch jerking himself off to your noises

but this time, he decides he has to see what's going on

he respected your privacy (somewhat) last time, now he feels he's earned a peek at you pleasuring yourself

going down the hallway, he expects you to be using your fingers

a toy, maybe, if you're feeling particularly insatiable

but the last thing he expects is you humping your pillow

it just never occurred to him before that you would use this method to get off

you're wearing one of his sweaters, it's ridden up and exposed your panties and some of your stomach

he peers through the crack in the door, watching guiltily as you buck your hips and grind down onto the pillow

but his eyes widen when he realizes it's not just a pillow- it's your rammie pillow that he got for you

the one you sleep with (in multiple ways, now, he jokes to himself) when he's on a trip and you miss him

you're gripping the stuffed horns as you ride it furiously, rocking your hips back and forth faster and faster until you moan out his name, tossing your head back

he lets out a shaky breath and drops his phone, blowing his cover

"shit!!" he hisses

"babe??" you squeak, tossing the plush to the other side of the bed

"sorry," he starts, entering the room

"i just... didn't think you were this..."

"pathetic?" you snort, hiding your face in your hands

"shut the fuck up," he teases, striding to sit next to you on the bed

"you do that often?"

you're too embarrassed to think of a lie

"yeah."

he takes a deep breath as if absorbing the knowledge and leans in to kiss you

"record yourself next time, will ya, doll?"

his breath is hot on your neck as he whispers the request into your ear

a small whimper escapes you, and you feel yourself get wet at his words

"want me to do it now for you?"

he smirks against your skin and gently takes it in his teeth for a moment before retreating

his phone gets set up somewhere with a clear view of you, and he sits in a chair next to the camera, waiting

"go, toots," he orders

and it takes a second, but you do

you start rolling your hips desperately against the plush

once you get going, you're eager to give him a good show

so you take the hem of his sweater between your teeth, exposing your breasts

the sight is dizzying, he's trying not to touch himself and spoil the video

doesn't take long for you to cum, with how frantically you're humping the poor pillow

your orgasm hits you like a truck, and you fold over once your body is done spasming

he captures a bit of your heavy breathing before ending the video

"can't wait to use that when i'm not with you."

"mmhmm," you reply absently

now you just had to catch him stroking his length with a pair of your panties in hand to get him back :3

[meownotgood]

the neon pink rabbit dildo was aki's idea.

technically, you were the first one to mention using toys in the bedroom. you've been dating for quite a while now, and although everything with aki is always fantastic, you've been wondering if maybe the two of you should try to make things more... interesting. aki is polite. tightly-laced. pretty vanilla, to put it bluntly. you honestly weren't sure what sort of things he'd be into, if anything at all.

your coworkers had plenty of office gossip about the new fancy adult store they're opening down the block — it has two floors, they're having specials on all their products for couples. you figured it was worth mentioning to aki, just for the hell of it. you tell him as you're both relaxing in the living room after work, like you normally do.

everyone at your job has been complaining about the new surge of traffic to the nearest parking garage. it must be because of the new giant sex shop. ha ha, very funny. aki gives you an all-too serious once-over, before he gently asks, "did you want to check it out?"

you fumbled through your next words, and swiftly explained to your boyfriend that yes, sure, you wouldn't mind checking it out with him. it'd be exciting, really. honestly, you're all for experimenting, but you're unsure, you aren't very knowledgeable. the problem with the whole thing is that you don't know exactly what you'd like to try. it's a bit stressful to imagine getting lost in a huge adult store, with no idea what to purchase.

"I could try to pick something out. maybe that'd be less stressful." aki suggests, his slightly flushed face betraying his level tone. he crosses his legs and leans back into the couch. "only if you're interested, though."

you confirmed you were very, very interested.

part of you assumed aki might back out. he's been busy with work lately, so you had plenty of time to mull it over before your next date — but you honestly had no idea what sort of toy he might pick out. you know he'd put thought into it. he would choose something for a specific reason, or purposefully pick a toy he assumed you would like. perhaps he'd imagine how he might use it on you. would it be something small? large? super adventurous or overly simple?

still, despite all your thinking, when the day actually comes, aki manages to surprise you.

he comes over to your place shortly after you text him an invite. sure. I just got done with work. I'll be over soon, aki replies. he sends another string of texts shortly afterwards, while you're busy tripping over your pant leg, trying to quickly change into your lingerie. I missed you. I'm bringing a surprise.

maybe it was that text, or maybe it was because you haven't seen him in close to a week and you're practically dying to feel his touch, but once he arrives, the two of you barely last a few innocent minutes together before you're stumbling into your bedroom.

aki allows you to pull him forward and on top of you by his tie when you flop back onto your bed. your hands run through his soft hair to tug it free of its hairtie. you kiss his lips and brush your tongue against his with fervor, and you don't protest when he shifts to trail tingling, affectionate kisses down your neck.

you curl into his touches — his mouth on your collar, his palm gliding over your lower back — and you make quick work of a good third of his work uniform: his tie, his jacket, the first few buttons on his dress shirt. aki is much more efficient. he discards your clothes with careful movements, between soft kisses. he sighs when he pulls back, nervously running a hand through his hair, his eyes heavy at the sight of your pretty body held tight by the thin, perfectly fitting lingerie.

"you look beautiful," he hums, completely earnest. you shudder, your arms held around his neck and shoulders. your thighs spread wider for him as his warm palm brushes in between them.

you'd almost forgotten about the surprise, until aki reminds you of it.

he pulls himself off of you for a moment to reach into his bag. the dildo is moderately sized, a handful of inches in length at most, but it doesn't seem cheap. it's made from bright pink silicone, long and thick with two different sections. the smaller portion is adorned with two small knobs, shaped like rabbit ears.

it's meant for double stimulation, aki explains awkwardly, between a handful of uhms and stutters. you could certainly gather as much from the shape.

he places a hand on your waist ever-so gently, and when he asks, are you okay with this? you're swift to answer with a nod of your head. you're more than okay with it. what you couldn't figure out is how it might feel — until aki finally opts to show you.

he has you sprawled out beneath him, completely pliant. your arms are above your head, hands clenching tight as he glides his palm from your waist to your thigh with reassurance. he squeezes, and he fiddles with the toy for a moment, gauging the various controls. as he leans in closer, he presses a kiss to your cheek, he breathes a low instruction to relax. then, he flips the toy to press just the small, vibrating, rabbit-eared attachment to your still-clothed clit.

you can feel the faint vibrations, even through your lingerie. the toy must be on the lowest setting; it's more of a tease than anything else. still, your eyes flutter. you let go of a satisfied sound, and eagerly grind your hips up to meet the toy.

aki sighs. "you want more?" he murmurs, already sitting up and hooking his thumb around the string of your underwear. "can I take this off?"

you nod hastily, and lift your hips to allow him to pull the garment down your legs and all the way off.

aki's jaw clenches. sweat is forming at his brow and his palms, as you coo his name and spread your legs wider for him. you're so wet — he can tell without touching, but he's entirely sure once he guides the thick head of the toy over your cunt, and sees your arousal glistening on the silicone. he gives you another soft squeeze, another gentle touch on your side, a final, are you sure?

when you whimper and plead, please, aki, I want to feel it, he hardly hesitates to give you exactly what you've been hoping for.

the dildo is just the perfect size. it slides into you effortlessly, filling you perfectly and snugly. the length of it is curved slightly, and you can feel that curve as he slowly eases it in — nudging your walls, the thick tip deliciously meeting your sweet spot.

"there, that's it," aki praises. once the toy is all the way inside you, he lets go of a sigh that sounds thoroughly satisfied. "god. you take it so well."

your spine tingles at the sound of his smooth voice. he adjusts the toy slightly, and as the flexible rabbit-eared piece presses against your clit, vibrations a little stronger than before, your whole body tremors.

aki fucks you on the toy with slow, shallow thrusts, enough to keep the vibrations on your clit. and it's intense, it's so much; the toy fucks you so well and hits your sweet spot with its perfect curve on every thrust in. the vibrations are low and constant, thrumming against your sensitive, puffy clit.

wet noises fill the room as you dirty the toy's pretty pink shaft. aki keeps his pace slow, deliberate, never pressing it in too hard or too fast. all you can do is quiver and whine, your voice already becoming strained and loud.

he clicks a button on the dildo, and it begins to vibrate with strong pulses.

you're so beautiful; pleading his name, keeping your heavy, warm gaze locked on his despite the way your eyelids flutter. aki swears you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen as he watches the way you take all he has to give you. you have no idea what this is doing to him, how his heart is pounding and his mind is racing and oh, you were made to take this toy. you're all his, he has complete control over every facet of your pleasure. and god, does he want to make you cum for him.

aki increases the strength of the vibrations. "you're irresistible," he murmurs, and you don't fail to catch the small break at the end of his voice. he's falling apart too, just from this. "say my name again, please. want to make you cum for me, beautiful."

he trails soft kisses down your jaw while the dildo pleasures your cunt and your clit — and when you cum, you cum quickly and hard.

you tremor, you hold onto him tight, you soak the toy as your legs shake and your voice gives out. aki slows while you struggle to regain your breath, a hand slowly caressing your side, guiding you to breathe again. his heart feels like it might hammer out of his own chest.

"f-fuck..." aki swears, his breath shaky, his brows pinched. "you've never- that was-" he sighs. you're so lovely, so pretty. he's definitely going to lose his mind if he hasn't lost it already. why didn't he think of something like this sooner? "god... can you take one more for me?"

for @violet-turning-violet

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love your writing. It's just the best. Seriously I check dc dp tags to see if you've written anything.

By the way, can you write anythng with another dc hero or maybe a villain? Maybe Superman or Captain Marvel(Shazam) or anything. You don't have to obviously, but it would be really cool if you did.

Oh gosh, thank you! I'm glad you like my rambles. I'm happy to write you a dabble! Hope you like!

Billy Batson was expecting a lot when the Wizard told him to only break the ice crystal in dire situations. He figured if the dying man had enough time to pass on thousands of years' worth of knowledge and store Old magical artifacts, then the Crystal had to be a last resort.

He also figured it wouldn't be so darn breakable. Billy felt they should have made the last resort a little steadier if it was so important.

But no, one accidental trip over his far too worn-out pants legs had the thing shattering like cheap glass.

Billy stares at the shimmering remains, his heart pounding in his chest as the soft green glow that had always come from the crystal fades away.

"Oh no. no, no, no. I can fix this. I can fix this. " He whispers to himself, falling to his knees and scooping up the pieces. He tries to reattach them, but the crystal melts in his palms. "I can't fix this."

All this because some jerk kicked him out of his old sleeping place, down by the docks. He had been squatting in Old Man's Jackson shed ever since the man finally bit the dust, and he had been so excited to have a building all to himself. Word must have gotten around somehow because he comes back from a Justice Leauge Meeting to find a sixteen-year-old rooting through his stuff.

As a homeless ten-year-old, Billy had scrambled to reclaim his possessions, including this critical crystal, jumping on the intruder with a war cry. He got a broken arm, a black eye, and a few bruised ribs for his troubles.

Thankfully he could walk away with most of his things as the teen sneered and screamed at him while he ran away.

It's not that Billy couldn't fight off the homeless teenager, but he didn't, and to go all Captain Marvel on some random citizen. Captain Marvel can go toe to toe with Superman, but plain old Billy Batson struggles to take kids his own age. He's always been smaller than his age group, not to mention hunger's damage to him.

He returned to the abandoned subway, stumbling down the dark tunnel. Billy didn't like the place- it was damp and cold and a little too open if someone else wandered in, but it was the only place he could go for the night on such short notice. He was thinking of asking Batman if he could take more shifts on monitor duty just so he could sleep at the watch tower.

Then his pants leg got stuck on a broken stair, and he fell, sending his dew earthly possessions into the air. Now he was, blinking away the spots from the beating the teenager gave him and a powerful artifact he promised the Wizard he keep safe, broken beyond repair.

Against his will, sobs start to shake his body. The more he fought to clear his eyes from the tears, the more he began to fall. He leans his forehead on the floor, uncaring how a piece of crystal cuts his skin, causing a trail of crimson to flow down his face. What's one more scar on his already broken body?

In a moment of weakness, he violently wishes he could run to his mom for comfort. It's a fantasy. She's long gone, buried next to his dad, and his uncle was somewhere warm spending their money.

The knowledge causes more despair, and he sobs harder.

Why does he have to be here hungry, without a home, when his father's brother didn't even bother to attend their funeral is living off of his inheritance? Living great, if all the zeros he saw on the check were any indication?

Life is genuinely unfair sometimes. That's why he took being Captain Marvel so seriously. Someone had to protect people from the cruelty of life.

A swirling green portal rips open underneath him just as the trailing thought of I wish someone out there wanted to protect me just as much.

His echoing scream, the swirling green, is the last thing Billy knows before everything goes black.

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

Billy wakes to the sound of someone humming. He blinks open his eyes, fighting against the exhaustion and the siren call of slumber. The first thing he notices is the soft green of the walls, like the color of Easter eggs he used to paint with his Dad. He smiles at them.

It's his favorite color.

Then Billy notices his eyes getting heavy again as he slowly turns his head into the plush pillow and sinks into the warm blankets around him. His body is boneless in comfort, his eyes are closed, and he's just dropping off into dreamland when his mind finally notices that you're homeless and don't know this room. You're in danger!

Billy leaps off the bed like he's been shocked, throwing the two blankets on the ground. Glancing around, he's horrified to see he's in some kind of kid room- comics, toys, posters- all tailored to his tastes. He can even spot an archeology kit for kids sitting on a desk, just like the ones his parents used to buy him when he wanted to help out in their digs.

He always thought he actually found something in his little play rocks while waiting at one of the tents as his parents worked. They always beamed when he showed them the fake dinosaur bones he discovered in his kits.

He even has nice, fluffy pajamas. The kind that doesn't have buttons or zippers but is oversized, so they let him toss and turn in the night. His bottoms are a grey and black checker pattern, while the top has the Batman symbol proudly on the front.

Everything is perfect, from the decor, to his clothes to even the furniture placement.

It's the bedroom of his dreams.

Oh gosh, he has been Coraline-ed!

"Oh, Billy! You're up. Breakfast is ready and I just finished ironing your uniform." A man's voice says from the doorway. He swings his head around to see a man in his late twenties in an apron smiling at him. He's handsome, has fluffy black hair and baby-blue eyes, and practically embodies comforting vibes.

The other-mother.

"Who are you!?" Billy demands, fist raised. He can't go Captain Marvel with someone dead on staring at him- at least he risks his secret identity, but he has been on the streets long enough to put up a decent fight.

The man seems flabbergasted by his aggression which causes Billy to bristle until he slaps his own forehead.

"Right, forgot about the introduction. I'm Danny Fenton, and I will be your new guardian until you are old enough to care for yourself." Danny smiles, and the boy can't help but find it too pretty to be authentic. "As per your request as the champion of Magic."

Billy has been taken by someone who knows he's Captain Marvel. Which could be better on the one hand but on the other, it means he can do this.

"Shazam!" A bolt of lighting has him shifting into his adult form and flying a break neck speed towards the threat. He intends to punch Danny, but his fist is caught in Danny's palm like it's nothing.

Danny seems unimpressed. "Don't think you can Shazam yourself out of class, young man. Being a hero will cut your attendance, but I won't allow you to skip just because."

Calm yourself, child Batson Solomon says to Bill. King Phantom is here per your request for aid. He will not harm you.

What request!? I never called for him!

When you broke the Infinite Realms Crysta of distress, you called for someone to protect you like your caregivers once did. King Phantom is the most vigorous protective spirit in all the realms. He answered the call. Solomon replies. Billy can feel the god shift on his golden throne a sense of amusement. It's strange to know what the gods are doing without really seeing them He made a deal with the wizard to pose as your father until you are of age. You both are bonded by this Oath.

An oath. That made Billy feel a little better. He knows that once an Oath is made, no one in the parties involved can break it. If the Wizard had done one while borrowing Billy's body then Billy would be untouchable until the contract was done.

He has a new dad that would be bound by magic and the might of the six gods to protect him.

Billy was curious to know if that was a good thing or not. Being protected is not the same as being loved.

"Kid? You okay?" Danny asks.

"What is expected of me? What do you want me to do?" Billy counters, floating back a little now that he knows what's happening. An Oath is a two-way deal. If Danny had to pretend to be Bill's father, then Billy had to do something for Danny.

"Well, I expect you to have your teeth brushed and eat your breakfast before class, but something tells me that's not what you mean." Danny jokes with a chuckle. Billy frowns, which makes the humor on the man's face disappear. "In all honesty? You are my anchor. I haven't been in the material world for years. Not since my home dimension was destroyed by an asteroid. I missed it. I missed people."

Okay, nothing sinister. But he would never let this random stranger think he had the right to boss Billy around.

"You don't have to pretend to be my dad when we're alone. And you can't tell me what to do!" Billy hisses, expecting the man to get upset like other foster fathers had been before he ran.

Danny nods. "Sounds fair. Sorry for coming on like a fruitloop."

"A.....fruitloop?"

"A big fruitloop. One with a cat."

Right.

"You said my uniform. What uniform?" Billy asks to choose to come back to Danny's odd phrase later.

"Gotham Acadamy. I signed you up for classes-"

"We're in Gotham!? Why?!"

Danny tilts his head. "It's the only place with enough death to sustain me."

Billy is glad he is Captain Marvel right now. Otherwise, he thinks he would need more guts to ask. "Why do you need death?"

"Not death itself, more like the by-product. I need ectoplasm since I;;m a ghost." With a bright flash of twin rings, Danny shifts into a very obviously non-human form, and Billy's mouth drops.

"You're dead?!"

"So-and-so. I'm a halfa. A being dead and alive but at the same time neither" Danny rubs the back of his neck, twirling his small point tail nervously. "Yeah, it's a bit confusing. Sorry."

"It's fine....ugh so we just live in Gotham until I'm what eighteen?"

"Until your twenty." Danny winces at the glare Billy throws him. "Sorry, ghosts see adulthood as two decades for the living, two centuries for the dead. Since I'm both, I have to follow both and thus have to be your caregiver until you're twenty. I can portal you to Fawcett whenever you need to hero with the snap of my fingers. It'll be inconvenient, but I promise it will be better than the streets. And I will never, ever hurt you, Billy."

Billy crosses his arms, listening with half a ear as the gods start speaking at one, their voices and opinions a background noise he long learns to turn out until Atlas is louder than the rest.

I understand this might be a lot at once, young Batson, but accept King Phantom's help. You will no longer be alone. It is not easy carrying the world on your shoulders, trust me.

The god's words make Billy sure this is a good idea.

"Shazam!" With another burst of lighting, Billy is a kid again, stretching his neck back to make eye contact with the taller man. "Alright. You got yourself a deal .... again."

Danny grins, warm and delight dancing in his eyes. "Excellent! Lets's hurry then, we're supposed to arrive at your school early today to meet with a man in charge of your scholarship who is my new employer for computer software. That's our cover, by the way. We moved here after I got a job at the man's company."

"Who are we meeting?"

"Someone unimportant, I'm sure," Danny says, waving a hand. "My friend Clockwork set us up our background, we have the papers to prove everything."

Billy finds out that Danny really is from a different universe because how in the world could he claim Bruce Wayne as unimportant!