#anyway this is just me over thinking stuff

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

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

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

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

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[prael]

Day 10: Gambit

Nmixx Lily x male reader smut

words: 3,300 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"Ah Fuck," Lily sighed, fiddling with her hair.

Stylists spent hours doing her hair, makeup, nails, clothes, all for the camera. Lily just knows how good she looked today. The stylists did their jobs, but she did hers too. She put her face into that angle that she knew drove people crazy. She is a professional, even if she wishes she wasn't.

She waited for hours backstage. Lily waited and waited. They all did. All of the group were just sitting there, in that green room, playing on their phones. There wasn't much to do except wait, take a nap, or eat snacks if the managers would let them. If Lily had her way, she'd eat nothing but those little chocolate-covered pretzels. “They're so good,” she always tells you.

Eventually, she had to get up on stage, stand around and smile. Then came the dance and the singing, that stuff. The usual routine, the usual performance, the same one they'd done hundreds of times. It was a dance that was burned into her muscle memory. She didn't have to think, it was like she wasn't even in control of her own body. She hit every fucking note like the pro that she is, and everyone cheered.

It's not that Lily is ungrateful. She is grateful! She knows she has a lot. But... she just couldn't help but feel a bit unsatisfied.

Like there is some huge hole inside her, and she just can't seem to fill it.

Like there's some other way she's supposed to be living.

The rest of the show goes as expected. People clap. Everyone takes pictures and videos. And they're off the stage. It's a short ride back to their apartment. They eat, they shower, they go to sleep.

Most of them do, anyway.

Lily is pulling on a hoodie and sweatpants. She is putting on a hat and pulling it low over her eyes before fitting a face mask over her mouth and nose. Lily doesn't look at herself in the mirror, and she leaves her phone in the apartment, keeping only her wallet on her as she leaves. She finds your car where it's always parked. Lily doesn't know what she'd do if you weren't waiting for her there.

"Hi, babe," you greet her. "Good day?"

"Yeah, sure," Lily grumbles, rolling her eyes. She is in a pissy mood, but that's nothing new these days. It takes time for her to adjust to being free again and to be happy now that you're around. She isn't angry at you. Lily's angry at everything else. She knows that you know that, too.

"What do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I just want to get drunk," she sighs. She's still in a bad mood. You know what will help with that.

You know it's not the answer. The bottom of a bottle never solves anything. Yet, you still took the time earlier in the day to pick up her favourite bottle of wine, and you know it's waiting for her at your apartment.

So that's where you take her. She's a little less tense once you get her inside. She's kicking off her shoes at the door, pulling off her mask and tossing it away, throwing off the hat, her hair falling free to her shoulders. Her eyes close, and she lets out a long sigh. It's almost like she can finally relax here. Like the tension can drain away and she can just... stop.

"Lily, babe, you know I love you so this comes from a good place, and I know you love singing and dancing, but you don't have to be an idol if it makes you so unhappy." You say to her. She's looking at you like she wants to scream at you. She knows that she can scream at you, that you'd take it. That's what she loves about you.

But she doesn't scream, Lily only contemplates what you have said. She takes her time, letting her anger subside, her body relax and her mind to calm down. "I can't just leave. I don't even want to leave. I just want a break." Lily doesn't know how else to put it. "Like, maybe if I got hurt, or sick, or even pregnant. They'd make me take time off."

You know that Lily is only half-serious, but she sounds like she's thought this over before, and she has.

"You'd be a cute mom." You tell her, and she is bright red in an instant, the blush on her cheeks darkening her face.

"Hell yeah, I can fulfil my dream of being a milf," Lily playfully says, and for the first time today, she cracks a genuine smile before heading for the wine rack. She quickly finds her favourite.

"I'll be the stay-at-home dad while mommy is out strutting her stuff on stage." You tease, wrapping your arms around Lily's waist, holding her from behind.

She chuckles and pours the wine into the glass. "Imagine the controversy too. A big middle finger to all those delulu fans." Lily is giggling to herself as she drinks. "That'd make it so worth it. They'd lose their minds."

"Everyone would go insane. An active idol having a kid? That'd be crazy." You add to the conversation. Lily is looking at you with this smirk that is so uniquely her. She looks a bit like the devil when she does it, but it is so fucking cute at the same time.

Lily turns to you with the straightest of faces. In an uncharacteristically deadpan tone, she says, "Put a baby in me." Her lips twitch. You know that she's fighting the urge to smile.

You can't help it. You laugh, and you kiss her. Lily's mouth is warm from the wine. She is sweet and fragrant. She tastes so damn good.

"Put a baby in me!" She laughs into your mouth, but she is still trying to kiss you, and you're still trying to kiss her. It's all very chaotic. Your hands are still on her waist, her fingers on her glass, and she's trying to press herself against you, and you're trying to press against her.

She puts down the wine and then her arms are around your neck. "Come on," she says between kisses, "let's make a baby." It's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. Lily knows it's ridiculous, but that's why it's funny, and why you're still kissing each other. Her fingers are running through your hair and you're grabbing at her ass. She's pulling away just to smile at you, and you can't help but smile back at her. Lily is a ray of sunshine.

"Fuck," she whispers as you lean in, and you kiss her again. "Come on," she repeats and then starts pulling at your shirt. You help her take it off, tossing it away, not caring where it lands. "We're gonna make a baby, right?" She's looking into your eyes, and you can see how eager she is. "You're gonna cum in me?"

The two of you are no strangers to a little bit of roleplay, but this feels like it has transcended the norm. It feels different, it feels real, it feels serious, even if it isn't. Is it?

"Yes," you say, kissing her neck. "Yes," you say, kissing her collarbones. "Yes," you whisper as you pull her hoodie up and over her head.

She's not wearing anything underneath. She's never been much of a fan of bras or underwear. You love seeing her like this, bare, naked. She has the most beautiful pair of breasts, the perfect size for her petite body. She is all smooth curves and long, elegant lines, like the figure of a woman that has been drawn and then come to life.

"I'm not joking," Lily whispers into your ear as she wraps her arms around you. Her soft breasts are pressing against you, and she is kissing you on your neck and shoulders. "I want a break. I'm so sick and tired of it." Her hot breath is in your ear and she gently bites the lobe. "I want to be a mother."

"Fuck, Lily..." You breathe as your hands slip into her sweats and find her ass. Firm flesh and smooth skin. Her hips press into your body, and her hand comes down to your cock. She's groping you through your pants and she is squeezing and rubbing and tugging, and it's making you so hard.

"It's not the first time we've talked about kids. We want one. Why wait?" She asks you as she slips her hand into your pants and grabs hold of your cock, pumping it. Lily's hands are so soft, so warm.

"It's insane. You could be forced to leave the group," you remind her. But you can feel it, too, that desire. It is growing in you, just as surely as you are in Lily's palm. It's like she's cast a spell over you and you're falling into some deep trance.

"I know," she groans into your mouth, "I wouldn't be the first to leave, though." She reminds you, her voice growing breathless and excited. Her eyes are half-lidded. You can tell how aroused she is, and it's only making you harder.

"You'd really risk it?" You ask, squeezing her ass.

"I need this." Lily insists, looking at you. Her eyes are pleading. You can't say no to that face. You'd do anything for her, and you'd never deny her anything.

She's pulling down your pants and your underwear at the same time, and she is sinking to her knees before you. Her hands are holding your cock, stroking and fondling, her fingers dancing over the length of your dick and the swell of your balls.

Lily is looking at you. Her lips are parted, her tongue running along them, leaving a trail of spit behind. "Please," she whispers, and then she's licking you, tasting you, teasing you.

Your fingers are threading through her hair and you are holding her head steady as you guide yourself into her mouth. You watch her lips wrap around your cock as she takes it in her mouth, inch by inch.

Her tongue is pressing against the underside of your dick as she slowly slides forward. Lily takes more and more of you into her mouth, the hot, wet, heat of her throat taking the very last inch. She moans around your cock and you feel her tongue swirling around you as you start thrusting. She is sucking and swallowing around your cock. You're watching her head bob as she works your length, taking you to the very base, her lips kissing your crotch. She pulls off of you and takes a deep breath and she looks at you. There is a trail of spit on her chin, connecting to your cock.

"I want a baby," Lily repeats. You don't think she has ever been so insistent on something before. Her hands come to your hips as she pulls you to her, and she takes your cock back into her mouth, sucking you and bobbing her head. She's taking you in all the way and gagging on your dick. Her eyes are closed as she focuses on sucking you off, and her fingers dig into your flesh as she holds onto you.

"You're going to be such a good mommy," you tell her, and you hear her moan in response.

Lily's head keeps bobbing and you keep thrusting, meeting in the middle. You are so deep down her throat, the tip of your cock kissing the back of it and you're throbbing. You're trying to weigh it up in your head, possibly the biggest decision of your life and it's fighting for brainpower with having your soul sucked out of your cock. It's hard to concentrate.

Lily's tongue swirls and her cheeks cave in as she sucks. Her eyes are open now, and she's looking up at you, pleading, begging for you to let her have her way. Even with your cock between them, the corners of her lips turn up into a smirk. She pulls away and gasps for air, saliva dripping down her chin.

She's still stroking you off as you groan and your legs tremble, but she isn't finished. Lily stands back up and looks you in the eye. She's still stroking your cock in her hands, pumping up and down. Her thumb rubs the tip, teasing and playing. "Put it in me, please."

"Are you sure about this?" You ask her one last time, but you're already pushing her sweatpants away from her hips, and down to the floor.

"Absolutely," Lily says and turns away. She bends over and braces herself on the kitchen counter, arching her back. Such a beautiful, elegant posture. The defined muscles of her back lead down to her cute, perfect ass. A smooth curve of soft skin, firm and pert, but inviting. Your hand comes down, caressing and squeezing that lovely ass. Her hips rock as she presses into your touch.

Lily reaches a hand back and her fingers find her pussy, rubbing and stroking. She is spreading her lower lips and showing off her wet hole. "I'm ready." She moans.

Your fingers slip into her cunt and you're thrusting, plunging into her. She is hot, and slick, her walls clenching. She feels amazing and you're desperate to get inside of her, to fuck her. Lily gasps and her hips rock against your hand as she pushes herself onto your fingers. Her hair swings wildly and her mouth is hanging open. Her breasts sway as her body writhes, her stomach flexing and her hips bucking.

"Fuck," she breathes, and her voice is low, and her tone is desperate. She is panting, her breath ragged and laboured. "Fuck me."

Your hand slips from Lily's pussy, leaving her feeling empty, wanting, needing more. Your hands come down to her hips and you're pulling her to you, your cock resting between her cheeks, hard and throbbing and aching to be inside her. "Tell me what you want." You insist. Your fingers dig into the flesh of her ass, spreading and revealing. You're rocking your hips, teasing her.

"I want you to breed me," she insists, craning her neck back to look at you. Her face is flushed. She is sweating. Her body is burning up, feverishly hot, her skin glistening and shining in the light. She looks so damn sexy, and she knows it. "Please, fuck a baby into me," she moans and turns back away, closing her eyes.

You line yourself up with her entrance, rubbing your tip against her. This is the final line, and once you cross it, there's no going back. You push yourself into her, her cunt spreading open for you as you sink in. She's tight around your cock, squeezing, milking, trying to pull you in.

Lily is gasping and moaning as you push into her, inch by inch. You reach the base of your shaft, her ass pressed against your body. "Yes!" She hisses. Her hands grip the counter, her fingers clawing into it.

"You like that?" You ask, and you begin to pull out of her.

"Please, more." She moans. "Please, fuck me," Lily begs.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her hips as you hold her in place. Your hips are rocking, pulling back. You're leaving her, almost, only the head of your cock still inside of her, and you're pushing yourself back inside of her, fucking into her. Your pace is slow, but each thrust is powerful. She's squeezing and clenching, trying to pull you in further.

"I'm going to fill you up, babe," you promise, leaning down to whisper in Lily's ear as she lays over the kitchen counter, your bodies connected.

Lily moans, "Please," she gasps, pushing her hips back into your body as you thrust. "Breed me like the daddy you are." Her voice is low, her tone husky and breathless, and her words pure filth.

Your hand is coming down, smacking her on her ass and she is crying out, a sharp gasp of surprise. Her hips rock as she presses onto you, trying to meet your thrusts and pull you deeper inside of her.

"Fuck," she moans and you can hear the smile on her lips, and you're smacking her again, the loud slap of skin-on-skin ringing out in the room.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask, fucking into her, picking up speed and intensity. Your body is smacking against hers, and her body is shaking.

"Harder, Daddy," Lily moans. Your hand comes down, hitting her ass, leaving a mark on the firm skin. You're thrusting, pounding, pulling back and slamming into her again and again. Her hand comes back, reaching around, her fingers digging into your hips. She wants to keep you inside her. "Please, don't stop."

You are pushing into her, fucking her hard. Her breasts are shaking and her stomach is tensing, and her hips are bucking back and forth as you thrust in and out of her. Her hair is flying everywhere as she throws her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. Her lips are parted, her tongue running across them as she pants. You know that she is close to orgasm. "Cum in me," Lily gasps. Her eyes are rolling back, her body shaking and her hips bucking, her pussy clenching and pulsing. She is on the verge.

You're so close, so very close, and you know that you're going to cum. Your balls are tight, and you're aching for release. Your cock is throbbing, your legs trembling. You can feel the pressure building inside you. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You grunt. Your thrusts become more and more intense, your fingers digging into Lily's flesh.

"Do it," she moans. "Fill me up, make me pregnant."

You thrust, pushing in as deep as possible and holding it there, and you cum. Your cock pulses, your balls twitching as your seed floods into Lily. Your cum spills out and fills her up. You keep thrusting, rocking your hips against hers as you keep shooting, and it feels like an endless stream, an eternity of bliss. There's a finality to it. This is it. You've committed. There's no going back. Lily's pussy is milking your cock, squeezing and clenching around it as you pump her full of cum. It feels so damn good.

"Oh, god," Lily groans, and her body is shaking, and she is crying out in pure bliss as she cums with your cock deep inside her. All of her muscles flex as she writhes in pleasure. She's gasping, panting, her body convulsing. You're not sure you've ever seen Lily cum so hard, so intensely. You're holding her, pulling her tight to your body, keeping her steady as she quivers.

"Fuck," she breathes as she finally calms down, her body going limp in your arms. You're both panting, catching your breaths. You're still inside of her, and she clenches her pussy around your softening cock. "We have to keep doing this. Until we're sure I'm pregnant."

It is a nice image. The two of you fucking over the kitchen counter, or in bed, or on the couch, every chance you get. Cumming raw into her pussy over and over again. And once she's got a baby in her, you can fuck like this some more, you can keep making her feel this way. You can be happy.

"Yeah, we do," you agree. This was the right choice, the only choice. You love her. "Come here, mommy." You tell Lily, and she is giggling as she turns and wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you.

[plethorawrites]

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

[alsoc3po]

The smut blog gets a real reblog. I realized I was ace some time ago but it was weird because I’d always had attraction to people and even a sex drive, to a degree. But I realized that in reality I enjoyed fantasizing and spending that time with myself, and hated the idea of anyone else real being involved. So like, pouring over the kinkiest smuttiest fanfiction you’ll ever see? Yes! But thinking of actually getting in a room with someone and letting them touch me sexually? No thanks. I like kink, and porn, and fetish stuff, etc. But what makes me ace is I enjoy that stuff myself. By myself. For me and me only. But naturally since I’m so open to kink etc. since it’s all just fiction to me, moving it accepting it being things real people do is easy. I don’t judge anyone on what they indulge in between consensual adults. And I would be happy to pass out water and the party! I’ve even considered going into intimacy coaching for film, since it all reads like fiction to me anyway. Either way support what everyone above said.

Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!

I am both.

[yoonjae20]

Bruce is (secretly) married [Bruce/Danny; Spirit Halloween]

I got sucked into the DPxDC crossover rabbit hole. I have read too many fanfics despite not knowing the source material.

I randomly got the idea of Bruce being secretly married and the Batfam finding out about it after Duke poses the question of why Bruce wears a ring. (Also how Danny's influence would have subtly changed things.)

Read this on ao3.

Next.

Bruce had always worn the ring, long before Dick came around – at least that’s what the boy had told Jason when he asked about it. 

They had looked through the records one night – bonding over finding out when he started, but he had already worn the ring once the man returned from his seven year long  journey of training. The media had speculated it to be a family heirloom – either his father’s or mother’s wedding ring. Bruce neither confirmed or denied when they asked about it.  

The man never took it off, not even when he stalked the night as Batman and neither of them had been brave enough to ask about it, after they watched clips where the media asked and his Brucie mask slipped into something uncomfortably blank. 

Jason had quickly forgotten about it after Bruce had benched him from being Robin after Felipe Garzonasa’s death. He had been furious, questioning if Bruce didn’t believe him that he didn’t push the man.

“Of course I believe you, chum,” the man had said, but Jason didn’t trust the man’s words. “But you just saw a man die. That’s not something we should brush over.”

He had sent Jason to bed for the night, but the boy had sneaked out, believing Bruce to go back to patrol after dropping him off. He instead found him in his office, talking to someone on the phone.

“...You have better experience with stuff like this than me…” the man said. “Do you think I should have never given Jason Robin? I know Dick agreed, but…” Bruce trailed off and then paused to hear the other person’s response. “I know.” He let out a deep sigh. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow about it. Are you still planning on visiting for the anniversary? I would appreciate if you tried talking to-”

Jason didn’t wait to listen for more. He knew it. Bruce was going to take Robin away from him. 

He remembered the picture he had found of his birth mother. He initially had wanted to tell Bruce to get his help to find her, but now he isn’t sure if it’s such a good idea. If the man was gonna take Robin away from him anyway, he didn’t want to be there for the moment. 

With that goal in mind, unbeknownst to Bruce, he disappeared that night, setting out to the Middle East to find his mother. 

Bruce finds his corpse several weeks later. Dick breaks down in space when he receives the call from Bruce. They attend the funeral together, neither of them talking about it, even years later.

Jason returns several years later, dead set on revenge on Joker and on Bruce for never avenging him. What he doesn’t expect is to stumble over a newspaper celebrating the anniversary of the Jason Scholarship Foundation along with pictures of his funeral, showcasing both Bruce and Dick crying. 

He never stumbles upon a memorial with his battered Robin suit and the description “Jason Todd, a Good Soldier” and beats Tim Drake, the third Robin half dead for replacing him. Instead he returns to the Manor, overwhelmed at Bruce’s breakdown and reaction. Red Hood debuts several months later – with the Bat symbol on his chest. They still have their conflicts, but Jason never has to fill a duffel bag full of heads for his debut. 

It’s only once Damian arrives, Cass becomes Bruce’s daughter and Duke his ward that the topic of the ring gets brought up again. It’s Duke who asks what they all have been thinking. 

“By the way, why does Bruce wear a ring?”

Finding no information online and not managing to get anything out of Alfred, they break into Bruce’s office while he’s on patrol getting distracted by Damian and Cass. It’s Tim who finds it, in a locked drawer, sealed carefully.

A marriage certificate. 

“Who the hell is Daniel Fenton?” Jason questions gruffly.

“My husband.”

Jason startles, turning to the doorway. Bruce is standing there, his arm crossed and he cringes at the displeased raise of Bruce’s right eyebrow. Behind him Cass shrugs at Tim’s questioning gaze while Damian clicks his tongue.

“Why haven’t we met him? And, wait, does Dick know about this?” Tim asks. 

Bruce lets out a deep sigh as he fiddles with the ring - the wedding ring. 

“Let’s go somewhere else for this.”

They all shuffle to one of their smaller living rooms. Duke sets up a voice call so Dick, who is back in Blüdhaven, doesn't have to miss out. Tim is on his own computer, no doubt researching everything he can find on Daniel Fenton. Or would he be Daniel Wayne? 

It’s Damian who breaks the silence.

“Father. Explain.”

The man presses his lips together as he stares down into his tea. Alfred squeezes his shoulder behind him. 

“The reason you haven’t met Danny is because he’s dead.” Bruce pauses while his kids pale. “Technically.”

Before either of them can question that, suddenly a young white haired boy appears, sitting on Bruce arm’s chair, eyebrow raised and wearing a black and white hazmat suit.

“Shouldn’t I be here for this?”

In an instant all of them sans Bruce and Alfred are on alert, Tim has a Batarang in hand, Jason one of his guns and Damian a knife poised to the unknown boy’s neck.

It’s Bruce who diffuses the situation.

“Danny?” Bruce sounds disbelieving and Damian twitches, knife still in hand. 

“In the flesh.” The boy does jazz hands, neck grazing the knife, but it doesn’t draw any blood. “Or ectoplasm. Whatever.”

“How wonderful of you to surprise us with your presence Master Danny,” Alfred says, tone slightly sarcastic and Damian finally steps back, eyebrows knitted together. 

Danny winces. 

“I would have warned you, but Clockwork just dropped me off, telling me that it’s finally time.”

“This is your husband?” Duke bursts out. 

The boy bows playfully.

“Danny Fenton-Wayne. King of the Infinite Realms. Half ghost and-” Suddenly he transforms, white rings traveling over his body and leaving behind a middle-aged black haired man. “-Half human.”

“GHOST?”

“HALF HUMAN?”

“KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?”

“Thank fuck I thought Bruce was a pedophile for a moment.”

Everyone turns to stare at Duke.

“What? I just said what everyone thought,” the boy defends himself.

“Actually that would be ephebophilia,” Danny corrects. “Although he would still classify as a necrophile.” 

Bruce punches the man’s forearm, rolling his eyes with a fond look and Danny yelps, rubbing the spot.

“Hey! If anyone is allowed to joke about it, it’s me!” the man complains with a pout and Bruce shakes his head. 

“Another reason why you never met Danny is because – believe it or not – he’s the King of the Infinite Realms, which means he is quite busy.”

“So much paperwork,” Danny groans. “If I get Constantine’s ass, I swear to the Ancients that he’s gonna die. Half a decade lost because I had to bargain for his soul pieces!”

“After I returned to Gotham to become Batman, the Infinite Realms unfortunately fell into war following a coup attempt, leaving Danny to deal with the mess.”

“And Clockwork prohibited me from visiting the Gotham until a certain point, claiming that I would change the timeline too much with my influence,” Danny finishes for Bruce, all of Bruce’s kids watching with fascination how seamlessly they seem to fit together as the man leans his head against Bruce’s shoulder while Bruce runs a hand through the man’s black hair. “Considering I would have never let Bruce run around with child vigilantes, he’s probably right.”

“I forgot you know about that,” Bruce sighs.

“Jazz kept me updated,” Danny says smugly.

“That’s a break of patient confidentiality,” Bruce grumbles. 

“She may be your therapist, but she’s also my sister.”

“Mr. I-Rather-Chew-Nails-than-Talk-About-My-Feelings?“ Jason exclaims. “No way!”

“I have been vocal about the fact that I go to therapy.” Bruce frowns.

“I thought you were joking!”

“Where do you guys think I go every Sunday evening?” Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Justice League meeting?” 

“Golfing?”

Once again everyone stares at Duke and he flushes at the attention.

“I thought it’s a rich person thing!” 

Danny snorts.

“He got you there, darling.”

“When and how did you guys meet?” It’s the first time Dick actually speaks up, having observed everything – or as much as he could – through the web camera. 

“At a gala when both Bruce and I were teens,” Danny answers. “My godfather dragged me into it. At least one thing I can thank him for.”

Danny smiles while Bruce grunts in agreement. 

“The wedding?” Tim follows up.

Both Danny and Bruche pause to think.

“Did we do the civil registration in Paris or Las Vegas?” Danny turns to Bruce. “I can’t remember.”

“We were quite drunk,” Bruce agrees.

Danny snips his fingers like he remembers something, but then he shakes his head. He puts a hand to his chin, tiling his head. 

“Or was it Brazil?”

The rest blink at the pair before Danny shrugs with an apologetic smile.

“We had the real wedding in the Infinite Realms though,” Danny explains, “Once Bruce got finished with his training. The citizens wouldn’t have accepted it otherwise. Alfred would have taken pictures, but technology doesn’t work in the Infinite Realms.”

“Such a shame, it was quite a nice wedding,” Alfred affirms. 

“Alfred knew?!” is the consensus complaint. 

“Does Mother and Grandfather know about this?” Damian asks stiffly.

“Considering Ra’s used Bruce’s and your mother’s DNA to artificially create a baby despite knowing – he doesn’t care,” Danny says just a tad-bit too cheerfully. 

The revelation leaves everyone reeling. 

“Okay, now that all questions are answered-” Danny doesn’t give them time to inject. “Can we talk about the stinking elephant in the room?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow as Danny gestures to Jason. Jason almost would feel insulted if Danny didn’t sound so genuinely surprised that nobody else said or noticed something. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Jason complains as he discreetly tries to sniff his armpits. Considering Tim’s and Dick’s snickering, he doesn’t succeed. 

“Your Ectoplasm reeks like-” Danny grimaces as he flails his arms. “Like you took a bath in spoiled eggs.”

Danny turns to Bruce with an angry look in his eyes.

“Especially you should have noticed, considering you are liminal! His core is completely malnourished.” Bruce winces. “Did you forget that I gave you a way to contact Frostbite?”

“Without the ambient ectoplasm you radiate my ability to see ectoplasmic entities and speak and read Ghost Speak slowly degraded over the years,” Bruce explains. “I wasn’t aware Jason had been a type of ectoplasmic entity.” 

“His eyes literally glow green when he’s angry!” Danny chides. “He returned from the dead for revenge. He’s clearly a Revenant. That’s Ghost 101!”

It’s amusing to see Bruce get scolded by someone else other than Alfred. Alone for that fact Jason has to admit that he begrudgingly likes Danny. 

“Alright-” Danny stands up and tugs on Jason’s arm. Bruce moves to follow him like second nature. “You are coming with me right this instant.”

Before anyone can stop them, Danny transforms back into his Ghost Form, Jason’s hand in one and Bruce in the other and steps through a glowing green portal, it vanishing shortly after. Silence follows.

“So well that just happened.”

This time everyone agrees with Duke. 

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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[imjustdreamingig]

Jesus, what's a girl to do?

Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin meddles, Steve is clueless, and you're freaking out. So a regular day.

A/N: i genuinely have no idea where this came from, i legit posted the first part like 2 years ago. but I guess I want to start actually writing more? idk! we shall see. anyways, this fic stems from my (occasional) exhaustion to shy!reader and i'm basing this more on how horrifically i acted around the guys i would like even tho i consider myself an extrovert. enjoy whatever this is??? and lmk if u want a part 3! also this is not proof read so bear w me

warnings: sfw, swearing, uhhh i think that's it???

You were screwed. Absolutely, terribly, fucking screwed.

You were also very angry at your mother, giving her a glare every time she glanced your way at the dinner table. She merely gave you a wink in return, not understanding the true implications of her actions.

"So, Steve," your mom began as she cut a bit of the chicken on her plate, "you play basketball, right? Is that something you want to keep doing in university?" This time, you openly stared at your mom, trying to telepathically convey that you would literally kill her if she kept talking. You haven't made up your mind if you're joking or not.

Steve cleared his throat, "Yeah, I do, I'd say I'm pretty good at it, too. Wherever I end up going, I'll probably join their team for fun." He turned to you after taking a bite of his meal, smirking. "You like basketball too, right?"

You choked on your water, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. You looked at Steve properly for practically the first time that night, but your voice never wavered. "No, not really, why?"

He turned back to his food, amusement gracing his voice. "Well, I see you and Robin sitting together at every game, even the away ones, so I just assumed." If your face could sport a visible blush, you knew it would be a bright red, hot, mess.

"Well, I- I get dragged by Robin because she doesn't like sitting alone or going to random schools by herself like, half an hour away. Do you even watch the news? Girls by themselves are basically the perfect bait for random kidnappings and stuff, especially girls in high school, like I mean the statistics for-"

"Y/N" You're rambling is halted by your mother's voice. Steve is looking at you in bemusement. You are contemplating death. The situation is not looking good.

"Could you grab me some water from the kitchen, with ice," your mother said with a strained smile, holding out her glass. You grab it and push your chair out. "Sure, yeah," you replied. As you made your way to the kitchen, your mind replays the last hour of the events that have transpired, wondering what you could've possibly done in your past life to deserve this.

How could your own mother, the woman who birthed you, ask the hottest guy in your grade if he wanted to stay for dinner and not consult you first, all whilst knowing you had the most ridiculous crush on the guy.

Betrayed by the ones closest to you. This is probably how Julius Caesar felt.

After overcoming your initial shock, and lets face it, mortification of being paired up with Steve for your English project, you attempted to the best of your abilities to push down your feelings and remain professional in order to actually work on the project and make sure you got an A. Your grades would not suffer over a stupid crush on a stupid boy, that's where you drew the line. Unfortunately, this plan was not working out so well.

It was actually failing, horrifically at that.

It had been about a month since the semester started and the project had been assigned—a complex analysis of a classic book of your choice and how that particular novel has inspired the creation of others and advanced its genre. You had to write a collaborative essay to hand in to your teacher, as well as create an interactive presentation for your classmates explaining your chosen novel.

This was all due at the end of the semester and you'd be given no in class time to work on it since you had an ample amount time to work on it outside of school. It would also replace the need for a final exam, which was great news. When your teacher had explained the project, you were ecstatic, knowing exactly what book you wanted to do: Pride and Prejudice.

Then, you remembered who you had to do the project with, this huge, daunting, complex, project, where you would need to interact with your partner in close proximity for an extended period of time. You felt faint.

Steve, in his defence, had tried to approach you on multiple occasions to try and figure out when you two should meet to try and start the project. But, obviously, whenever you saw so much as a glimpse of him in the hallway, you would make yourself scarce.

The only time he would actually be able to talk to you was in your shared English class. Robin was beginning to go crazy at your increasingly outlandish excuses as to why you couldn't meet up with Steve after school in order to work on your project.

"Oh sorry, my mom needs my help on some stuff tonight."

"I have to take my brother to soccer practice."

"I can't today, I have an eye doctor appointment."

"My dog actually needs to go to the vet, she's sick, sorry."

"My family and I are going on a road trip this weekend, so I'm not free."

"My sister broke her leg uh— skiing, and she needs help writing stuff for school."

"Funny story, Robin has a crazy ex thats trying to get her to meet up with him again, and I have to help her slash their tires and like, do girl stuff, it's personal, so I'm not free, maybe next week though?"

That last excuse is what caused Robin to snap. She knew that Steve knew that you were making shit up, Robin has never even been in a relationship, let alone have an ex. Also, you didn't even have a sister, what gives!

You also had no clue exactly how close the pair had gotten due to working together at the video store and that she'd told Steve she was into girls. Therefore, like the great best friend she was, Robin decided it was time she intervened, for everyones sake really, but mostly yours.

"God," you sighed, "I never thought I would be so into arms, like not the huge, bulging one, you know? All veiny and red, that just scares me, hello, his are just ones that are like slightly defined, but have a very obvious outline of muscle, like I can tell he's strong, and fuck, his biceps, is it bad that I want to like, bite them? Because every time I look and him and he's fixing his hair I just keep getting this urge to—wait where are you going? Robin? Ok, OK! I'll stop, I promise! Come back!"

If Robin had to hear another anecdote about how you wanted to bite his arms, she was going to puke.

Your continuous blabbering about how good Steve's hair looked or how good those jeans looked on him and your inability to have one proper conversation with him or stay in the same room as him for longer than two minutes was making her go insane. She couldn't take it anymore.

So, Robin devised a plan, which one day she was sure you would thank her for—hopefully.

First, she inconspicuously made sure that you had nothing planned for Thursday night, already knowing you were free but wanting to double check that no random stuff had come up.

Then, she called your mom, who absolutely adored Robin. She told her about your situation and how if she did nothing, your infatuation for Steve was literally going to give her an aneurysm. Robin would tell you that she wanted to hang out Thursday night so you would get ready, but instead of her showing up, it would be Steve.

Not surprisingly, your mom agreed to Robin's crazy plan. She thought it was about time you got a boyfriend. You had already talked about Steve so much to her anyways, but any time she would tell you to just try talking to the guy, you vehemently refused.

"Mom, are you insane, I'm not going to do that," you scoffed as if literally just having a conversation with another person was the most insane idea in the world.

"Mija, how else are you supposed to get to know people if you can't speak to them? Besides, you never seem to have a problem talking back to me whenever we have an argument," you mom shrugged as she continued folding the laundry you were helping her with.

"Oh come on," you sighed exasperatedly, "that's not the same thing and you know it."

"I'm just saying, by the looks of it, I don't think I'll be a grandmother."

"Mom, what, hello!?"

Getting Steve to show up at your house was easier than Robin thought. She conveniently told him right before the beginning of their shift on Thursday that you'd told Robin that they should all get together at your house to finally get started on the project. Robin smiled a bit wider than necessary when Steve enthusiastic agreed to go.

When Robin gave Steve your address and told him that she would be over a little later because she left some stuff at her house, that no, she didn't need a ride and that no, she was fine walking, Steve was none the wiser to her actual plan.

As Robin saw Steve pull out of her driveway and making his way to your house, she gave herself a mental pat on the back and started thinking about what movie she should watch after dinner, knowing that the school day tomorrow would be very entertaining.

When Steve rang your doorbell, he was still clueless about the real intentions of Robin's plan, but when you opened the door and he saw your eyes go wide and your mouth drop slightly open, almost as if you weren't expecting to see him, something clicked in his head.

This was going to be fun.

[waynes-multiverse]

I don't know why, but I somehow forgot I ever wrote and posted this until another notification just popped up 😂

Lesson learned. Don't do tumblr things at 3AM when sleep-deprived lmao

Anyways, jumping into your lovely comment 🥰👇

In my own headcanons I've written that I felt like Dean wouldn't be much accustomed to physical touch and would take time to get used to it (but would eventually love it and give it right back), considering how he and Sam grew up without a lot of nurturing and/or feminine presence. But Dean's so tactile that it really does make sense that he'd be all over his girl. 🥰

Absolutely! This was an already more established relationship. I'd imagine Dean would've been pretty hesitant in the beginning (especially when it came to more emotional touches and not just things that happen in the heat of the moment lol). But once he has the full "go-ahead" and plenty of reassurance, Dean would probably soak up every loving word, every gentle touch like a dried-up sponge in the desert 😅💕

Good lord, this is probably my favorite part. 🤤 I love the idea of cooking for Dean and feeding that boy, so if he's all cute and handsy on top of it?? PLS. fans myself I'd be putty in his hands lmao

Ikr? And Dean's such a foodie, I feel like he'd live for that stuff. Hot girl and food? It's his Disneyland 😆

How did you know this is my favorite thing?? Smutty and sexy yes, but also romantic and sweet and making me into a puddle just thinking about these types of moments with Dean (again). I've often imagined the "little things" too -- nails gently scratching his head or his back while watching a movie, cuddling on the couch. 💕💕

Ugh, yes! Agree!! Something about simply cuddling and all the intimacy it creates makes me go bonkers too. Sometimes more than the smut itself lol

Also, knowing what the poor guy has been through makes you just want to wrap your arms around him and hold him forever 🥹🤍

Hi, I first wanted to say that I’m a big fan of your work, I’m constantly rereading your fics and they have really helped me escape from my busy Uni schedule. I was hoping you could write some smutty head canons about dean, no pressure ofc. I hope you enjoy your day and thank you for taking the time to create and post fics for people like me who need a way to escape their hectic lives.💕

Aww, thank you so much, lovely! I gladly support the escapism 🥰

Sorry this took me so long! I was on a bit of a break there, but I was so excited to get into this. God knows I have so many headcanons 😆

Hope you’re doing well and hope you enjoy this 🤍

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18 for some smutty content (duh)

Main Masterlist || Tag List

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean

Dean is very hands-on, which means he’ll touch you whenever he can, even if it’s just a hand on the small of your back while you’re pumping gas or walking into a bar.

This also means he takes PDA to a whole new level. He teases you under the table when you’re doing research in the library or eating in the kitchen. He weaves his arms around you when you’re doing dishes. He trails kisses down your neck while you’re cooking.

Especially while you’re cooking. Something about food just turns him on. So much so that every once in a while he stands in front of your door with some whipped cream, chocolate sauce, a cute wiggle of his eyebrows, and a giant grin, begging you to be his dessert.

Sam is mostly annoyed by his brother’s indiscretions, though. Too many times (almost every damn day) Dean has walked into the kitchen in nothing but his gray robe and announced his morning wood to you, not seeing Sam sitting in the corner. That’s when Sam usually folds his paper, takes his coffee, and hurries to the library before Dean’s hands find their way to your body once more.

Sam suffers the most, however, if there’s only one motel room available and the three of you have to share. Dean has zero self-control (and also doesn’t care what Sam sees or doesn’t see). While he cuddles you, he holds you so close to his body that it’s hard to breathe. And again, hands and lips – they wander. Constantly. The man doesn’t possess an off-switch.

It got so bad that Sam has established a rule that the two of you are not allowed to share a bed anymore and Dean has to take the couch for the night. But as soon as his little brother has dozed off, he crawls right back into the warm comfort of your bed.

Speaking of rules, Dean loves breaking them. If there’s a sign that says “Do not enter,” you can be sure as hell he’ll shove you in there and will enter you. For Dean, there’s no such thing as bad timing or an inappropriate place. He even breaks rules that don’t exist and are just common sense like, “Do not have sex in a museum while you’re breaking into said museum.”

And while he loves breaking rules, he also loves following them. Especially when it’s “sexy rules.” He loves when you playfully push him around, when you shove him backwards onto the mattress and tell him what to do. He will smirk at you giddily all the way through and be the best damn boy you’ve ever seen.

Overall, he’s curious about your fantasies and constantly asks you want you want to do. He enjoys it when you take the lead in the bedroom and loves to see what you come up with. He loves being underneath you and watch you ride him with his bottom lip tugged behind his teeth. It barely hides his huge grin. He loves to see your tits bounce from this angle. According to him, it’s the best goddamn view in the world – forget the Grand Canyon.

However, when he’s had a bad day or a rough hunt, he actually likes to be in charge. It all depends on his mood. But taking control of you helps him cope with the things he can’t control in this world. So whenever he comes home with tense shoulders and a tightly creased brow, you know you’re in for a treat.

When he orders you around with his deep voice and sharp tone, you melt into a puddle and only all too happily oblige to his every command. Your legs grow weak when he dominates you with just a look. God, he loves the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, loves how you moan his name when you’re on all fours in front of him, and loves how your lips feel around his cock when you suck him off.

You love to give him comfort in whatever form he pleases. And Dean loves that you trust him with all your heart – and he knows to never betray it. He will always respect your limits, even though he gently pokes them sometimes, testing how far he actually can go.

Sometimes he bends rules like he bends you.

And truth is, he can go pretty fucking far. There’s not much you won’t let this man do. His dirty mouth can convince you to do all kinds of things ��� things you would for sure refuse if anyone else was asking. But it’s Dean, and one look of his sparkling green eyes will have you on your knees for him.

But honestly, Dean is the same kind of whipped for you, too. He will do anything for you, short of moving actual mountains. Massages, hot baths, ice cream at midnight? He’s got you covered and doesn’t expect anything in return, except for your unconditional love. He’s got it either way, but you do have to reassure him sometimes.

Dean’s a giver, not a taker, so you do have to force him sometimes to ask for the things he wants. But boy, when he gives, he goddamn gives with both of his massive hands. After he’s done with you, there’s not a single inch of skin left on your body that hasn’t been worshipped. You always come first – literally.

Dean takes pride in making you cum, and it doesn’t matter with which body part of his he does it. They are all equally skilled – his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and his dick. He eats you out and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, because you both know in a life full of monsters, there actually might not be one. He makes every night and every day count.

Then, there’s his mouth. It should be no surprise, but it’s goddamn filthy. He could make you come with words alone, and not rarely, he sure likes to try. A lot of times it’s stuff you haven’t even heard, dreamed, or thought about until Dean’s said it and put it in your goddamn head.

And yes, Dean’s very sexual and a great lover through and through. He enjoys sex, but most of all, he enjoys going to sleep and waking up next to you. He loves cuddling with you on the couch during a movie, he loves holding you close at night, and he loves that special moment when you’re both coming down from your highs and are still connected, bathing in the afterglow.

Dean has been so touch-starved all his life that he enjoys the little things. He loves when your fingernails caress his back and massage his scalp. He loves using you as his freaking pillow. At this point, you’ve learned not to drink too much water before bed, because you know you won’t be able to escape his prison of strong arms – not that you’d ever want to (unless you really do have to pee).

I honestly could've went on and on and on with this one... 😂

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@thebiggerbear @snowayumi

[nosyp]

Hi Nosyp!, yandere player 120 (I don't remember her name) and fem reader.

Platonic, 120 is like an older sister to her.

(reader is the youngest of the team)

--🥬

Heyhi 🥬anon! Ty for the request🥰 and her name is Hyun Ju if you wanted to know

Title = Protective Bonds

Warnings = yandere behaviour, fighting,

Pairing = Yan! Hyun-Ju (Player 120) & fem! reader

Summary = Player 120, your older sister figure, has always had your back. When you're attacked, she’s there in an instant, her protective instincts turning dangerously possessive.

Word count = 1.5k words

The world around you felt like it was on the edge of breaking. Every day, you were forced to play a game you never signed up for. With each challenge worse than the last. But… amidst the chaos, there was one thing that survived loads of other games with you and that was Player 120.

She wasn’t like the others. Warm, nice, and caring, she had a presence that you adored. Despite being trapped on an island and forced to play sick games, she was still very caring towards you. Even though she had a cold and rough exterior, inside she was caring. She often checked up on you and teamed up with you for group games. She insisted on letting her go first or stuff like that since you’re pretty young. 

You’d never understood why she took an interest in you. Maybe it was the fact that you were small, quieter than the rest, or maybe it was just your sheer luck. Either way, she always made sure you stayed out of the crossfire, out of danger.

“Stay close,” she’d say, always with that same calm authority and warmth she had. “I’ll look out for you.”

Sometimes, you wondered if she really meant it, or if it was just her way of getting onto your good side, though you had no idea why. But no matter how much you tried to read her, she always seemed a step ahead. She was actually quite quiet, collected, and always vigilant. Everything she did was for you. Even if sometimes you didn’t realize it and how much you insisted you were fine, she still did it anyway. 

Of course, you couldn’t help but feel safe with her around, you could feel yourself starting to depend on her every second you spent with her. In a world where every ally, friend or partner could easily turn a quick 180, into an enemy, there was something oddly reassuring about having her by your side. She didn’t show much emotion often, and didn't let her guard down. But the way she always seemed to be watching over you. She kept an eye out for you when others or even you didn’t.

In this game of survival, you hadn’t realized how badly you needed someone to trust. Usually, the players that had no relationships or connections with others lost the fastest, especially in team games.

The tension in the air never eased, it was unrelenting. The games grew harder, the stakes higher, and every time you thought you could breathe, something new threatened to crush you. But she was always there for you. Hyun Ju moved strategically, aware of everyone and everything. 

You learned to trust her instincts over time from prior games with her. Ever since you got close with her, you started listening whenever she gave a command, even if it was just a simple ‘Stay close’ or ‘Follow me,’ you always obeyed without hesitation. It wasn’t just because she was good at what she did. It was because, in this game, she was the only constant. The only thing that made sense.

One evening, as you sat against the cold wall of the holding room, trying to ignore the anxiety gnawing at your insides, you felt a familiar presence beside you. 120 didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she just sat down, her posture slightly stiff and body alert as always. But there was something different in the air tonight. Something that made your chest tighten with unease.

"You look like you're thinking too much," she said quietly, her voice low and steady as usual.

You shrugged, though the weight of your thoughts was hard to ignore. "It's hard not to."

She turned her head just enough to catch your eye, her gaze soft but still intense in a way. "This game… It makes everyone think too much. Don't let it consume you."

You wanted to say something. Something to push the conversation deeper, to understand her better but the words caught in your throat. There was always this wall between you two, no matter how many times she told you to stay close or how many times you’d shared the same space. She was always so… distant. Not cold or anything, but distant. And that distance made her even more unknowable.

Suddenly, a sharp noise broke the silence. Fuck. There were heavy footsteps nearing the room. Your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without a word, Hyun Ju was immediately on her feet, her hand outstretched to you, pulling you up with a force that didn’t let you question it. There was no time to hesitate.

"Stay behind me," she ordered, her tone shifting, sharper now.

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. This was different. The calm before the storm had ended.

The air was thick with tension as you followed her, hiding yourself behind her shadows. Hyun Ju was already positioning herself at the entrance, her eyes narrowed as she peered through the door’s small gap. Every muscle in her body was coiled like a spring, ready to react at a moment’s notice. It was a stark contrast to how she had been only moments ago. Opposite to her calm and collected side, now there was something darker in the air.

She wasn’t the type to show fear, but in that moment, you could sense it. Her every movement was precise, her eyes flicking between the door and you, keeping you close but not making it obvious. She viewed herself as your protector. And you viewed her as your protector as well. But even the bravest protectors could be afraid.

As the footsteps grew louder, you held your breath, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Hyun Ju didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The command in her presence alone was enough to make you freeze.

The door creaked open, and a masked figure stepped inside, their silhouette barely visible in the dim light. Hyun Ju was already moving before they could even fully enter, stepping between the intruder and you without hesitation. Her body was positioned between you two, blocking any potential harm from reaching you.

“Get back,” she muttered to the figure, voice colder now and laced with authority.

The intruder didn’t seem to flinch at all, but they hesitated for a moment. The silence was deafening. Then, with a quick movement, they lunged. Hyun Ju reacted instantly, sidestepping with a grace that was almost unnatural. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it to make the intruder stumble, causing their body to crash onto the cold concrete floor.

You barely had time to register what had just happened. She was fast, faster than you could even process or react. The air around you felt charged, crackling with a dangerous energy. Hyun Ju was not only a shield, but also a force to be reckoned with.

She stood over the figure now, her eyes cold but focused. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” she said, her voice low, almost deadly.

The intruder groaned, but didn’t move, clearly having underestimated her.

You stood there, frozen. You had seen her handle fights before, but this was different. There was something almost predatory in the way she moved. Something that told you she would do whatever it took to keep you safe. Even if it meant crossing a line she didn’t want to.

But the thought didn’t last long. The figure, clearly realizing they were outmatched, scrambled to their feet, quickly backing off. With one final glare from her, they disappeared through the doorway, leaving you both in a tense silence.

Hyun Ju didn’t relax immediately. She was still poised, waiting for any sign that another threat might appear. You, however, couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest. It wasn’t just the fight that had your blood pumping. It was the way she had acted, like your safety was the only thing that mattered to her.

She didn’t look at you yet, but you could see the tension in her shoulders slowly fading. It was as if the weight of the moment was only just starting to settle in.

"You alright?" she asked finally, her voice quiet, almost like she didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had fallen.

You nodded, though your throat was tight, unable to form any words at first. The reality of what had just happened hadn’t fully sunk in yet.

“Stay close,” she repeated, the calmness returning to her voice. “We need to keep moving.”

Her hand brushed your shoulder briefly, the contact so brief you almost thought you’d imagined it. But it was enough. Enough to remind you that, even in the chaos, she was there for you. The only thing constant in this maddening game.

Without waiting for a response, she turned, leading the way forward. You followed, still trying to steady your breath, but there was one thing you knew for certain. That was… with Hyun Ju by your side, you might just make it through this.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Your blog is the only blog where I feel safe enough asking this question. What do you think of Percy Jackson fans who feel as though they and the series have a moral superiority to Harty Potter ? Obviously, Harry Potter and its author are laden with questionable and sometimes straight-up hateful takes and views. But the way PJO fans constantly compare the two, its authors (even though RR is far from flawless), and the two MCs (ignoring how the two both share similarities in the fact that they are both traumatised, abused, angry teenage boys). I'm sorry that this ask got so long, but this has been annoying me for a while now.

This is an interesting question - for one, fandom fights over superiority is a concept that has been around for ages and has never been constructive. PJO and HP fandoms have been fighting in that exact way (and it has gone both ways!) for literal decades (remember, PJO turns 20 this year) so this isn't new, it's just taken on a moral flavor. Let's go over some things though (but please keep in mind i never got into HP and never read the books or fully watched the movies so my knowledge of HP is primarily pop culture absorption/secondhand from my family and friends):

Are either series perfect? No. HP absolutely is full of hateful sentiments and JKR is a hateful person and I do not respect her for that. Disney's marketing recently has absolutely fully leaned into trying to put Rick above her as a moral paragon and emphasizing how progressive he is and his support of diversity in middle grade series, despite some failings to reflect that in the actual text. Are Rick and JKR equally bad? Definitely not. Rick has had tangible good influence on adhd/dyslexia awareness that very directly impacted people like me as a neurodivergent kid going through school in the 2000s. JKR meanwhile has directly negatively impacted trans laws internationally very recently.

Rick absolutely isn't perfect, but he's vocally supportive, has made a lot of effort in the past to be inclusive, and still attempts to do so. Most of his issues simply stem from his own unaddressed internalized bigotry/biases and his research on varying topics not being great (plus poor management decisions such as not hiring a sensitivity reader actually fit for the story he's trying to tell). But he's not hateful. JKR is. JKR is very vocally hateful and bigoted and this is absolutely reflected in her work as well even in earlier HP. They are comparable in that they are both middle grade authors of easily two of the most popular middle grade fantasy (or specifically hidden world fantasy) series out right now. They are not equivalent in the slightest in their bigotry or tangible damage.

In terms of Percy versus Harry, I personally don't think they're very comparable. They share some similarities, but mostly just in that they're both the protagonists of their stories and thus serve protagonist purposes. Beyond that their use within the narrative is pretty different functionally. Their worlds' magic systems are not comparable. The hidden world aspect in both their universes isn't even comparable, since in PJO the "hidden world" aspect is very different from most hidden world fantasy formats because the entire point is that it's functionally not a hidden world. The characters themselves are very different as well - Percy's personality and the way he behaves and reacts to his environment is absolutely nothing like Harry's.

Most of the anti-HP-in-general sentiments stem from wanting to cut off JKR's notoriety, which I think is valid to want to do. And I do think there are a lot of issues with continuing to support JKR's work especially in ways that functionally promote her work or support her financially. Obviously, we will never be able to scrub HP from the cultural zeitgeist. It's just not feasible and I'm very anti-book burning so I do think it's important to acknowledge the role HP has had in pop-culture alongside acknowledging its harmful materials. HP is a text you absolutely can't death-of-the-author your way out of because a lot of the vitriol is baked into the text and worldbuilding in very overt ways - and there are plenty of other pop-culture staple novels like this. But fandom in general, at least true fandom and not mainstream fandom, is so obscure most of the time that I don't think, so long as people are not ignoring negative themes of the source material and are being thoughtful as they navigate engaging with it, that it is an inherently bad thing for HP fandom to just exist at all. It's never going to just stop existing no matter what people do. And HP fandom are not the only ones who should be thoughtful about how they engage with their source material - PJO fandom is not exempt from examining some of the problematic aspects in our own text and figuring out how to be respectful with those topics. It's just a lot easier for PJO fandom to tune it out without it being noticed because there's less of it and it's (at least sometimes) less overt. Honestly if HP fandom decided to go more down the path of a fandom like Warriors or Miraculous Ladybug, where the average sentiment is more along the lines of "Oh god no don't read/watch the source material it sucks/we stopped paying attention to it year ago and it's not relevant at all to what we're up to. We're over here functionally rewriting everything from the ground up/doing our own thing" I would very much support them in that endeavor. I do think there is merit in limiting promotion of the HP source material as much as possible, though.

Hopefully that all makes at least some amount of sense.

[eunandonly]

exhibit a : you

୨୧ ; you and riki, on a date solving murder cases gone cold? that’s going to end in another murder!

pairing! criminaljusticemajor!riki x criminologymajor!reader | wc. 0.9k | warnings: atempted humour, incorrect law and forensic terms, homicide mentions EN-

🖇️ : riki version finally!! sorry it took so long ㅜㅜ

riki has been majoring in criminal justice for some time now

you two never really talked properly, most of your conversations were trivial things like “can i borrow your pencil” or “when does this lecture end”

you never expected your first proper conversation with him to be an argument about who can solve a cold case faster

"of course i can solve it the fastest, what are you talking about, y/n?"

that just pisses you off bc who does he think he is

let's be so fr why is he so full of himself?

you had just been listening in on his conversation about a case study and you couldn't help but jump in

and riki had the audacity to mock you

"you're really going to stick with that theory? it's clearly wrong- come on, even i know that."

you were ready to bash his pretty little face in

bc your theory about the jane doe case is definitely right dafuq.

the time window, the evidence, the interview transcripts... it all fits your narrative

and the more you and riki discuss the case, the more convinced riki is that your theory MIGHT be right

of course he won't admit that though

but when you start talking about livor mortis he can't help but stare at you with hearts in his eyes

like DAMN he loves girls who recite shit like that as if it's the alphabet

one day you're just packing up your bag to leave after a lecture when riki comes over

"hey, you wanna study with me this evening? get some work done on the cold case project?"

riki's tryna be all nonchalant but he's screaming inside PLEASE SAY YES PLEASE SAY YES

you say yes.

you two meet at riki’s dorm room and tbh it’s kinda messy in there

i imagine criminology major riki to have lots of books regarding criminal law and stuff lying about everywhere and js have a lot of stuff in general

like the only place that’s not covered by some book or paper of some sort is the bed because he needs sleep (but he stays up till 5am anyways)

he probably listens to true crime podcasts all night

riki and you start get into your work right away but both of you keep getting carried away bickering

don’t worry it’s just playful banter ☺️

“i said stfu his rigor mortis had only started on the head and neck of the body but livor mortis had fully set- that's just says that someone manipulated the factors”

you’re just sitting on his bed pointing at the case file and trying to prove your point

riki’s smart but dense at the same time

you both have some genuinely concerning conversation starters

“oh yeah so this girl apparently got burned alive on a wooden pole outside a school campus!”

"do you think the car air conditioner will be cold enough to use during the winter when trying to onset rigor mortis of the body?"

"if someone dug up a already dead body murdered by someone else and re-buried it to hide it from the officials, what charges would they get?"

you guys say it so casually too like you're discussing what to have for dinner

you always thought riki was cool and had a little liking for him but working on a project together and really made the feelings more intense

sure he’s an annoying little menace who’s way too stubborn

but he’s smart. and he’s pretty.

you really are going to bash his pretty face in one day.

even when you two are not working on the project you two meet up in each other’s dorm rooms to play games, talk, etc

like you two make plans to meet up at your room to play fortnite (you carry his ass through the game)

oh but he won't admit that

i feel like riki would prefer staying in for these types of activities

you know those little packages of fake crime cases you can buy to investigate and stuff?

that's what you and riki do on friday nights except it's not a fake crime

it's all real

you guys research serial murder cases, disappearances that went cold YEARS ago, heists... the list just goes on and on

yeah but these little dates are probably going to become a homicide case itself

no bc why is riki not shutting up his narrative is so wrong

he ends up confessing to you at the end of the month after both of you submitted the most beautiful thesis on a double homicide case

you got lots of help from riki on the criminal law aspects of it and you helped him with the profiling and forensics part

"no y/n, he would be charged for perverting the course of justice, what are you on?"

“riki, stop being such a dumbass. the offender and the victim had no connection whatsoever.”

riki was so scared to confess to you, he was overthinking for days straight instead of sleeping at night

so for your first date you just have him come over to your dorm and make a murder board with you

not exactly a common first date activity but both of you have fun with red string and evidence so it’s fine

you and riki later on create your own true crime podcast except you're not just talking about the crime

you're both solving them (agggtm anyone?)

i'd like to think that you and riki's podcasts went viral and everyone gushing over you two

you and riki just make a really cute couple

[kira-fluff]

More sharing the same bed hcs pls. those are really fun

of course, there's only one bed | fem!reader x osamu miya

a/n: i, too, indulge. 💕 I hope you like it. just realized this was one of my first fics. i love! sorry it's taken me so long to write this lol. it's been in my drafts for a MINUTE. also, i just decided to do osamu because it was getting too long to be more than just him lmao. i love him. i like to think he's a little bit of a smartass like his brother when he's really crushing on someone. a little sweet, but also plenty spicy. pairing: osamu miya x fem!reader tw: a lil' spicy mwah 💋 oh and language bc i can't not not say fuck you’re in love with him, but he doesn’t know that. then, of course, just because life hates you, you get stuck in a hotel room together on a group trip with him due to some “mix up”. and there’s only one bed. one. *sigh*… length: 2.5k pt 1

it was finally time for you to get some much needed rest. after you received your keycard from your class rep, you trudged languidly to the elevator with your luggage. at last you arrived at your door (you triple-checked to make sure it was, indeed, room 208). your card beeped, the door sensor's light turning green. sighing, you opened the door, expecting a room shrouded in darkness. instead, you are welcomed with the sight of osamu's broad, toned back, fresh out of the shower. naked. well, half-naked since he was wearing sweatpants (though you couldn't help but notice his boxers peeking slightly above his pants that lay low on his hips). your eyes grew wider as you watched the droplets of water drip down his spine. a big, veiny hand moved a towel through his dark hair. you swallowed. he turned around at the sound your presence. looking at you in a mixture of confusion and maybe, was that amusement? "lookin' for somethin'?" he questioned with an eyebrow raised. "ah, um. my room--" his brows furrowed, taking slow steps toward you. you backed away when he met your eyes, his chest centimeters away from pressing up against you. in your embarrassment, you missed a little smirk tip up his mouth. "lemme see it." you stared at him for a moment, processing his unbelievable propostion. "um, what?"

he breathed out a laugh. "yer keycard." you blinked, feeling foolish. flushing, you fumbled with the pocket of your jeans, at last presenting him with your keycard and its small envelope with the numbers "208" clearly written on the inside. "huh." was all he said, nodding to himself. "what do we do?" you asked nervously. you glanced toward the other side of the room, and indeed there was only one bed. one. you continued, "i mean... we can't share, can we? but this is supposed to be a fun trip so we won't get any sleep if one of us sleeps on the floor and there's not enough room in a different room and i think it's too late to wake someone up anyway and--" he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. "listen. don't worry 'bout it, 'kay?" gazing up at him, your quivering lip calmed, and you were able to take a small breath. your next breath caught in your throat, however, when you began collecting his things, grabbing his clothes, and stuffing them back in his bag. "osamu, what are you doing?" he looked at you incredulously, as if the answer was obvious. "'m packin' up my stuff. figure i can kick 'tsumu out of his room if i have to." "no, no, no! don't do that!" your voice growing louder, you rushed over to him, inadvertently placing your hand over his. "that's... you don't have to do that!!" his eyes met yours and remained there a moment longer than was probably necessary. then, he stood up, his hand brushing against yours. softly, he said, "well, 'm not gonna fight you on it." your heaving breaths calmed. "ok. ok. good. 'cause you don't need to do that." he laughed. "yer pretty scary when you're upset." "i'm not upset! i'm just... frazzled." his mouth quirked. "'frazzled?'" "well, i wasn't expecting a buff, naked guy to be in my hotel room!" nodding, he let out a hum of approval. "so you think i'm buff." you looked away. "that's-- anyway! where are we supposed to sleep?!" he thought for a moment. "hmm... probably on the bed. i think that's what they're used for." your gasped, "obviously! but, like, you're a man and i'm, you know..." "a woman?" he finished for you. "yes, and when men and women sleep together..." he held a hand up. "wait a minute. when you say 'sleep together', what exactly are ya thinkin' i'm gonna be doin'?" you, perhaps a little too aggressively, smack him on his annoyingly rock hard bicep. "normal sleeping, just normal sleeping! not--not whatever it is you're thinking right now." "'kay, then what's the problem?" you stare at him, exasperated. "because-- you know what? i'm just-- i'm gonna go shower." "alright. i'll be sure 't be ready fer ya." you think you might've choked on your spit a little. "shut up."

-

teasing you was just too goddamn fun, he thought. well, it was fun until you stepped out of the bathroom. your hair wet, dripping down your shoulders. and you were wearing those fuckin' shorts that lifted up a bit at the sides, leaving your legs and most of your thighs bare. to make it all worse, you were wearing a shirt much too big for you, and when you moved your arms down to your sides, the shirt covered your shorts completely. you looked like you were naked behind that shirt, and... fuck. fuck. you leaned down to grab something from your bag, and the size of your shirt made the collar hang much to low, exposing him to the fact that you were not wearing a bra. is it gettin' hotter in here? shit. this was a terrible idea. he swallowed as you walked back to the bathroom, completely unaware of his horrifyingly lustful thoughts. as soon as you walked from eyesight, he jumped from his spot in the bed, no longer feeling smug. rushing toward the desk, he slammed his palms down onto the wood. dammit. breathe, man. breathe, he huffed in and out. the mirror above the desk reflected his expression: face flushed, chest rising and falling raggedly, pupils black as night. why you of all people? the girl he's had it bad for since, what, first year of junior high school? he refused to be the kind of guy that uses this sort of situation to his advantage. more than anything, he was fighting off a boner that he feared was most certain to come to your attention the moment you both lay down. "what are you doing?" you interrupted.

-

osamu's head swiveled toward you. he honestly looked like he was in pain. did he hurt himself during the five seconds you spent brushing your hair? "'s nothin'." he replied, shaking his head. walking closer, you put a hand on his shoulder, realizing that while you were in the shower he'd put a shirt on. thankfully. "you look sick. are you okay?" "'m fine." he mumbled. your brows bent in concern. "you don't look fine." he looked deeply into your eyes, looking almost delirious. "don' worry 'bout it." his accent was becoming noticably thicker. you pouted, taking him by the hand. "come on, let's get you in bed." he sucked in a breath as you led him to large mattress, pushing him into a sitting position with your hands on his shoulders. he let out a strange, groaning noise when you pushed him further onto the plush cushion on the bleach-white sheets. "that's it, 'samu. just like that, now close your eyes." his breath shuddered when you placed your cold palm on his eyes, willing him to sleep away his apparent sickness. "'m not sick." you shushed him. "yes you are. look, you're sweating." you brushed his hair away from his forehead. suddenly, he grabbed your wrist, sitting up. his eyes met yours, blazing with a message you couldn't quite make out. "are ya tryin' to drive me crazy?" "what do you mean?" "i'm really tryin' 't hold back here." "hold back what?" he stared at you, no reply. then, he simply sighed, shook his head and laid down. his head turned away from you. you got the message. he was mad at you. you pressed your lips together. it was late anyway. you should just try to get some sleep and forget about the fact that the man you've loved for years is right next to you and he's upset.

-

after turning off the light, you slipped under the covers, sighing when at last your head hit the pillow. you both lay in silence for a moment before osamu spoke. "'m sorry." "you didn't do anything wrong. you're mad at me because i was too pushy. i get it." "nah. it's my bad. i just... ya kinda make me lose control sometimes." through the darkness you saw him run his fingers through his dark locks. you turned your body toward his, propping your head up with a hand. "when you say that -- you lose control -- what do you mean?" he breathed out a laugh. "i don't think ya wanna know, sweetheart." your heart jumped at the affectionate nickname. leaning closer to him, you whispered, "but what if i do wanna know?" you could see even at night that his eyes were screwed shut, like he was in agony. "yer gonna regret it. trust me." leaning closer, so close your faces were mere inches apart, you said softly, "but what if i don't?" his throat worked, looking at you lying above him, shrouded in darkness only illuminated by the moon that shown through the cracks of the drawn curtains. "then, i guess i'd just hope ya wouldn't hate me." you opened your mouth to reply but instead let out a quiet gasp as his palm made its way to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. you closed your eyes, and realizing you were holding your breath, you sighed breathily. "i dont..." you said as his thumb trailed down you cheek to your jawline. "i don't think i could ever hate you." you were completely frozen. stuck in this moment of time. your faces so close if you moved just a little bit, your lips would meet. his thumb wandered from your jawline to your bottom lip. when he rubbed his thumb across your soft, inviting lips, he let out a gutteral moan. you fought the urge to rub your legs together. "i really shouldn't be doing this." he said suddenly. and yet he didn't draw his hand away. not that you would've let him. realizing your disadvantage, you lifted your fingers, tracing the muscles of his neck. it is only fair that i get to touch you, too. his breath grew more rapid at your touch, as you made your way from his neck to his torso. feeling a bit bolder, you at last replied: "maybe i want you to."

instantly, his hands grasped at your waist, lifting you onto him until your thighs hugged either side of him. from this position, you could not only see his eyes more clearly, but you could feel him. "do ya see what i mean? 's fuckin' insane, i know. 'm sorry." you turned your gaze away from him. if he was insane, then that made two of you. "i don't think this feels all too bad, though?" you said, leaning down and blantantly feeling your hands around his chest. you were keenly aware of what you were also rubbing against in the process. osamu hissed through his teeth. "don't say that." "mmm, why not?" you asked, fighting a smile. "'cause it's the exact kinda shit 'm sayin' is makin' me go crazy." your hands skirted from his chest to either side of his torso, squeezing. "but i kinda like it when you're like this." "'m tryna be a gentleman. yer not playin' fair." he said, grunting. you moved closer, your mouth just above the shell of his ear. "are you really the only one who's holding back?" swallowing, he pushed you back away from his face. surprised, you looked down in embarrassment, your courage leaving you. that is, until you felt the heated touch of his palms on your arms, and you were flipped onto the bed sheets. his body lay above you, his breath coming out in short pants. it was like you both came to the same conclusion simultaneously. and with it, came your signed agreement in the form of his lips crashing against yours. it was in no way a kiss of a gentleman. he leaned impossibly closer as he pressed his mouth further onto yours, deeper. he licked your lips, coaxing them open and tasting you, letting out a little "huh", like he'd discovered the answer to something that had long since piqued his curiosity. you didn't dare to speak; whenever your lips parted you could only gasp a breath before he pulled your face back to meet his lips. somewhere along the way his hands had trailed down to your hips, lifting you up until you were both in a sitting position, you in his lap. it was like you were a feast, and he was fucking starving. it wasn't enough. he wanted more. though, if you were being honest, you did, too.

you moved to straddle him, and with it sliding your hips against him with purpose. he gasped against your mouth, one hand squeezing your waist, the other lost in the mess of your hair. immediately he responded to your movements with a hand trailing down to grab at your ass, earning a gasp of your own. at last he pulled away (for longer than 2 seconds), a complete mess. eyes blown wide. lips swollen. hair tosled. "'ve wanted ya like this for so long. so fuckin' perfect. better than i pictured it." you threw your arms around his neck, resting your head against his chest. "I've wanted you too. like this. and, well, other stuff." he laughed. "betcha haven't had as many dreams." "maybe not, but i've imagined it plenty of times while awake." he let out a defeated huff. "why 'm i always losin' to ya." you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, humming. "maybe cuz i'm just that good." "fuck yeah ya are." he said, resting his palm against your back and gently laying you back down onto the soft bed. "and 'm gonna prove it to ya." "oh?" his hands found the waistband of your shorts. meeting your eyes once again, you nodded in approval. that was all he needed to take you. touch you. show you just how good you make him feel. how lovely, how beautiful, how perfect you are.

-

you hissed at the sunlight that obviously didn't understand that the purpose of the curtains being drawn was to keep it out of view. an arm wrapped securely over your chest pushed you deeper against his body. you briefly thought of pretending to be asleep, just to embrace the peaceful morning for a little while longer...when you felt a hand begin to explore your body. you lifted your eyes, finding his expression dull as if still in a deep slumber. but his fingers were rubbing up and down your boob, so you were fairly certain he was completely awake. probably. though, maybe his body was moving out of muscle-memory at this point. you did spend all night getting fucked into next week. you moved to get up, but his arm chained up down, pushing you further against him with a frustrated groan. something very warm and very big and very hard was pushing against your ass. "'samu--" you started before he groaned again, louder. he rubbed his face into the crook of your neck. "not yet. just wanna feel ya a little bit longer." it's not like you could argue with him, right? "'mkay. just a little bit longer."

a/n: screaming crying throwing up i was like "oh i'll just write a little nice thing and it turned into this. bruh. also to me at least i think osamu gets reaaaally flirty with a girl he likes but is simultaneously trying sooo hard to be understanding and i love him so much

[stilljuststardust]

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"Bringing things back" A rant.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I feel like people are going to misunderstand this post so let me be clear: Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I just don't think we should be shutting down someone else's desires on a minor technicality.

For a long time a hot topic has been the belief that you cannot "bring back" anything from your DR. So when someone expresses the want to return with pictures, possessions, and keepsakes, they'd often be shut down and told it's not possible.

The general consensus is if you do it you'd just shift back to a reality that's identical except for the item in question, and therefore it doesn't count because it's not this exact reality.

To be clear: a reality exactly like your original all the way leading up to the shifting and coming back except now the desired item has appeared in your room.

In my opinion, why does it matter? Why does it have to be the exact reality you left? Why should someone give up on something they want over a technicality? From your perspective as a shifter it is an experience that is identical to what you wanted anyway.

Think of it this way:

If a friend told you they shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time would you tell them they're wrong because in-between shifts they scripted in a new pair of socks and therefore they haven't shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time because they're technically two separate realities? Or is the difference small enough that it doesn't really matter enough to correct your friend?

Personally, if someone lectured me over a pair of socks I scripted I'd be very annoyed.

I have seen multiple people express the desire to bring back photos, proof, etc and they're flat out shut down or scolded. I cannot believe that so many people act as if it is entirely out of bounds because of a small technicality.

We're shifters. Alternate timelines are supposed to be our WHOLE thing and you can't accept this because it's technically a different reality???

If you can believe that you can go to Hogwarts or be a superhero you can believe in a reality where you come back with a small keepsake.

You have limitless potential, you can become anything you want do not throw that away for ANYTHING.

Stop centering this reality so much. It is not the only one that matters, it is not the end all be all, it is not the determiner of what is and isn't possible. If you only wanted what this reality had to offer you wouldn't be here reading this in the first place.

STOP crushing your own dreams because of what @closemindedoldfart3 says is possible. You are not here to give up on the thing you want you are here because you refused to accept this reality as all you were meant for. So stop putting limits on yourself. Do what you want instead of what you think you're capable of.

If you want stuff from your DR in your CR there is literally no reason not to get it.

"Can I-" yes.

"is it possible to-" yes.

"I want to-" yes.

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[awrkive]

angst, 30, jk please ♥️

30.  "Do you believe them over me?"

note: this is actually from my drafts mwahah just did some tiny tweaks 🤓

wc: 2.1k

Bliss.

It’s the one thing Jungkook feels when he lies on top of you as you turn around, letting his head rest in between your breasts. They heave still from your previous orgasm, and the thought makes his lips curl. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your spread arm and open palm so close to his own hand, and so for a second there, he lets himself get bold. 

Jungkook stretches his arm in the hopes of putting his own hand on top of yours, but you automatically move it away. 

“Jungkook, you're heavy.” You grunt, breaking the peaceful silence.

You would always say that whenever he’d lay on top of you – and while Jungkook knew it’s partly true, he also knew the intention behind didn’t hold any malice but only for the sake of jokes and giggles. You liked when he only pressed on more; tickled you to a wriggling mess, kissing you all over your face, but letting you win in the play-fight that would always occur after. 

But right now, the annoyance in your tone sounds palpable that it’s hard to miss because it isn’t playful like it used to be. 

Jungkook tries not to let it sting.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, carefully peeling his body off you, rolling on his back to lay on the mattress instead of you. 

He watches you sit up immediately when he got off, not meeting his eyes when you speak.

“Can I… use your bathroom? I'm just going to clean up.”

The lodge in his throat kept him from answering right away. But when you finally look at him for his answer, he stutters, “Y-yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Your legs are a little wobbly when you stand up from the bed, heading straight to his bathroom.

If this was from before, Jungkook would have shamelessly admired your naked body and tease you for your jelly legs. You’d roll your eyes at him in that playful manner, throw a little something at him which he’d effortlessly catch. He’d come up to you, grab your hand and kiss you, apologize even though he wasn't sorry, and follow you to the bathroom. 

But that was years before. 

It’s different now.

He should probably clean himself up, too, but he lets himself stare at the grey ceiling of his room, an arm thrown over his face, letting out heavy sighs ever now and then while he listens in to the stream of the shower. 

After a few minutes, you come out from the bathroom with a towel over your body. His towel. He knows it’s wrong to think this way, and yet, he can’t help but think, anyway, that you look good in it… Wearing his stuff at his own home. 

Jungkook opens his mouth only to close it after realizing he doesn't really know what to say. You're walking towards the bed, bending over the foot of it, picking up the clothes on the floor. 

The still quietness of the room suddenly makes Jungkook feel embarrassed in his still nude state, ironically feeling bare and stupid and vulnerable in his own skin. So he pulls a blanket to cover the lower parts of his body, sitting up. 

“I'll get going in a few minutes,” you break the silence in the process of pulling up your pants.

“W-what?” Jungkook looks at you with wide eyes. He gazes at the wall clock hanging across the room and sees it's already past 2 am. He feels a sort of panic bubbling in his chest when you start buttoning up your shirt. “It's pretty late. I don't know if it's safe for you to go out at this hour.”

He knows the chances are slim, but he wants you to stay. 

You glance behind you for the time to see it's late. 

“Oh… right.”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Jungkook offers. Too eager. Too desperate to keep you here. “Or the other room. You can sleep here.” 

You don’t say anything back for a few seconds, but when Jungkook sees you eyeing your coat hanging on his chair, he starts feeling nervous. 

“I appreciate that, Jungkook, but I think I’ll just uber home.” You say with a timid smile, tone clipped. 

And it’s enough to make him deflate. 

“Okay…”

Jungkook doesn’t want to insist any further even though every bone in his body is telling him to do so. He’s never been a fan of you taking the uber because it could really be dangerous… especially at this hour. He would like to offer you a ride himself, but judging on your tone Jungkook thinks you've had enough of him for tonight.

“... and I don’t wanna end up seeing Kim Hwayoung in my morning hair when she comes home later.” You add suddenly, and it makes Jungkook confused when you follow it with a... laugh. 

And he realizes… oh… you’re trying to joke. 

A joke that doesn’t land well. 

And you know it didn’t, because you stopped laughing immediately when you noticed he isn’t having it.

“Why would you see Kim Hwayoung in my place?” Jungkook knows what you meant, but he just wanted it to come out of you directly. 

You double down, though. “I don’t know… maybe because you’re dating her and stuff. She’s really pretty, by the way. I watched her new movie the other week.” You shrug, and Jungkook feels his heart crumbles when you do. Because you look like you didn’t care and the hard truth is that you probably really don’t. 

“It’s just the media saying it,” he says, doesn’t know why he's even bothering to explain. It’s not like… it’s not like it would matter to you. It does matter to him – that you know he’s not tied to anybody – not for the past few years, and definitely not right now after you both just had sex. 

You look at him blankly. “It’s a lot of news articles and photos,” You decide to add, “I saw on the internet.” Then, to add salt to injury, you chuckle a little, “Yunjin’s a bit... too online so she sends me stuff even though—” 

“You believe them over me?” Jungkook cuts you off. 

And right after he says it, he knows he fucked up instantly.

That was rich coming from him. 

It stuns you for a moment. And he’s about to take it back when you suddenly speak.

“I don’t know. We haven’t seen each other for a long time. I don’t know you anymore.” You say, and Jungkook could’ve gotten past the mere message of your words, but you smiled at him so gently – the first one you’ve given him today, maybe, and it breaks his heart. 

It breaks his heart because he knows that was your way of telling him that you’re walking away. It breaks his heart because he so badly wanted you to show maybe a little bit of jealousy over the fact that he’s currently linked to some actress, but instead you joke about it and you told him you don’t even care. 

Seeing you today felt like Jungkook has given you his heart willingly and you entertained him for a while, pet it for a moment only to give it back to him crushed into bits and pieces.

Jungkook doesn’t know when exactly you finished gathering all your things, and how the silence after your last words stretched into a few minutes. All he knows is that now, you’re walking towards him with a small smile on your face and it’s stupid to cling onto it with so much hope, but Jungkook’s now used to being hurt. 

“Thank you for inviting me, Jungkook.” He feels his throat constricting when you plant a delicate kiss on the apple of his cheek. “I'm going now.”

He wants to stop you, but the words on the tip of his tongue find it hard to let themselves verbalize. He couldn't.

Jungkook couldn’t even say anything as he watches you leave his room and disappear from his sight. It makes his eyes sting at the realization that it might’ve been the last time he’d see of you. 

“Fuck.” He whispers to himself, agonizing over everything that just happened but he knows alcohol would help.

His therapist would be disappointed but he doesn’t care at all because it’s a sham, anyways. His manager had told him it’d be good for him but he’s never taken any of the sessions seriously and he doubts a shrink genuinely cared about fixing the privileged life of a famous popstar. Jungkook’s probably just a name on her notepad list, something to check off of her schedule for the day. 

So he stands up from his bed, vision a bit blurry from the unshed tears that frame his eyes, but he doesn't miss a beat at taking out a Dalmore and a glass from the cabinet beside his bed. 

Jungkook knows he has no right to wallow in this stupid self-pity because he knows all too well that he did this to himself. Everything bad that happened in his life was a product of his poor decision-making skills. 

One drunken night.

It was that one drunken night.

You've fought all throughout your relationship but that particular month five years ago was the biggest predicament you two have ever encountered. You were promoted at your work but you had to go abroad; meanwhile, Jungkook was offered to be signed at the biggest labels in the music industry, which required him to leave, too. What was supposed to be good news turned into endless arguments and at the time, it feel like they didn't stop. You were at each other's throats for every single little thing, and there were many moments you told each other things that you both know well you didn't mean but didn't apologize for either. 

And Jungkook got fed up, simply put. 

But to this day, he still doesn't know what exactly happened that night. He smoked some shit, got high, paired it with alcohol, and the next thing he knew, he was in a bedroom he was sure you two didn't own – with a naked woman beside him that was definitely not you. 

When he went home later that day, ready to beg for your forgiveness, you were already packing your things, sobs echoing in your apartment. He remembers trying to reach out for you, touch you, all the while apologizing profusely and repeatedly, but all you said to him was to stay the fuck away from you with venom he didn’t know you could spit. You told him you hate him; that he was the worst fucking person in the entire world. It’s still vivid in his head when you broke into a loud cry and asked him what you did to deserve that.

It still plays in his head everytime he tries to sleep at night. He couldn't get out the picture of you crying, so broken and so fragile when you tried to hit him as he took every jab, thinking that it would erase his mistake. 

He was an asshole. Still is. And he doesn't have the right to be sad over you leaving him again because he betrayed you first; your trust, your love, your faith in him, every single thing that you established throughout the years you've spent together. 

But right now, he lets himself get drunk on the whiskey he's taken out because at least it makes him numb. It makes him think about those blissfull moments with you five years ago, and with enough delusion, he could almost block out the bad ones.

And it does make him fall asleep. 

Jungkook doesn't know if he'll ever see you again. He didn't even ask where you're staying now that you're back in town. Didn't even ask for your number. Because you didn't give either of them and he didn't want to push. 

When the sun is up, he would wake up with a mess on his bed as per usual, hungover to death with no one but his manager to take care of him and tell him to get his shit together. And it’s not because he cares about Jungkook, it’s just because he gets a shit ton of money for pretending to care about him. But hey, Jungkook benefits from it, too. He’s got this huge empty house all for himself because Minho was a fucking greedy businessman and Jungkook likes working his body for the endless, pointless promotions because it makes him feel something.

But most importantly, when the rays hit the blinds and force him out of bed, he’s sure he'll still love you – even though you don't need him to anymore. Even though you don’t need him anymore, and even though you don't want him around anymore.

He’ll love you even though it's now impossible for you to ever feel the things you felt for him years ago. 

Jungkook will always love you, but he knows it won’t be enough to repair the damage he’s already done. 

[enbyfvcker]

perhaps sub logan soft dom wade gently bullying him into loving himself - i’ve specifically had this idea of maybe incorrect safe word usage (stay with me here trust me hold on) from logan and wade is questioning it when he figures out it’s because he doesn’t feel like he deserves praise and then sappy pwfeelings commences

Tags: smut, dom/sub undertones, soft dom!Wade, incorret safe word usage, praise kink, bottom!logan, top!wade, anal sex, riding

Logan's been around for a long time. He's tried many different things in bed. Call him kinky or whatever. He doesn't mind trying new stuff.

But he wasn't really familiar with the concept of a safe word. He never used it, and neither did any of his partners in the past.

Honestly, if you're sleeping with Logan, it's really not likable you would want to put a stop to everything.

So when Wade brought it up in the middle of a make-out session, Logan kinda thought it was one of his jokes.

Their lips were glued together, and things were getting heated and more intense when Wade pulled away.

"So, just putting it out in the open- My safe word is chimichangas. Thought it'd be nice to share. What's yours, peanut?"

Logan just chuckles softly. "I don't have one, red."

"Whaaat? But it's important!"

"Is it, really?"

"Yes! That's why it has 'safe' in it. It's for safety."

"I could just say 'stop'..."

"What if you say 'stop' when you don't really want me to stop?"

"That'd be stupid."

"You're stupid, sometimes."

Logan glares knives at him.

"Come on, pleease? Be a good kitty and come up with one." Wade insists, and Logan feels his heart flutter at his words. He sighs, trying to think of something.

"Fuck, I don't know- Anything?"

"Yeah, it has no rules, just say the first thing that pops up in your head."

"Uhh- Yellow?"

"You're so not creative, peanut." Wade laughs.

"You said anything!"

"It's alright, pookie. I can be the creative one in this relationship, I'll hold that weight on my shoulders." Logan rolls his eyes.

"So, if you want me to stop at any time just say 'yellow', okay?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Fine, whatever."

"Anyway... where were we?" The merc smirks as he goes back to kissing Logan. He softly pushes him on the bed until Logan's back meets the mattress as Wade's over him.

Scarred hands slip under his shirt to pull it off. Wade throws it somewhere in the room and buries his head on Logan's chest.

"Gosh, love your titties." His voice is muffled against his skin.

"You gotta stop saying weird shit like that." Logan grunts, even though his heart was racing. Wade could hear it.

"And lose all my charm? No way." The merc grins before licking and nibbling Logan's nipple, earning a small groan from him.

"Wh- What charm?" He tries to give a sharp retort, but his voice comes out more desperate than planned.

"Such a hypocrite." Wade chuckles, his hand traveling down Logan's chest, stomach, and thighs until he palms and squeezes the obvious erection straining against jeans. "Your buddy seems to differ."

"Just shut up..." Logan moans, working on Wade's shirt and tossing it on the floor.

"You ask for too much-" Wade's interrupted when Logan crashed his mouth over his, kissing him hungrily and fast.

Logan groans between the kiss and invert their positions, pushing Wade on his back roughly and straddling his waist. "Shut. Up." He pulls away, correcting his posture and looking down at the merc under him that was sporting an awestruck expression.

"Oh, fuck..." Wade gasps at the sight of Logan straddling him, moaning when he moves his hips in a tantalizing roll, their bulges pressing together. Logan smirks as he watches Wade's chest heaving fast, shivering when the merc's hands hold his waist.

Logan removes both their pants and boxers, their skin in contact now when he rolls his hips again. Wade reaches for the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, handing it to Logan. He takes it and spreads the liquid over Wade's cock, stroking it up and down before he positioned it against his entrance, slowly sinking down.

"Oh, fucksweetmarveljesus-" Wade babbles under him, his eyes glued to where they're connecting. A loud whimper leaves his throat when Logan finally sinks all the way down with a groan.

He begins to move up and down in a steady rhythm, slow at first. Wade practically had starts in his eyes as he watches Logan riding him, his hard cock bouncing against his stomach.

"Fuck, peanut- You look soso pretty... God, why haven't we done it in this position before?" Wade speaks between moans. "I'd die happily after beholding such view... So hot, kitty."

Logan's face heat up and his cock throbs against his stomach at the praises, leaking pre-cum.

His heart flutters quickly in confusion. At the same time Wade's words light a fire within him, he also doesn't feel like he deserves them. For so long, people in his universe would barely bat an eye at him, even less desire him the way Wade does.

He never done this before. Everything with Wade seemed so new to him, and he still felt a little self-conscious about it. He wasn't really used to it. He received nothing in the last years but insults. And when Wade praises him, his circuits burst. The wires in his brain sparkling, his movements faltering.

"Need a little help, princess?" Wade smirks, his hands gripping Logan's ass cheeks as he guides him up and down, his hips thrusting upward. Logan's whimpers loudly as the pleasure intensifies, his hands at Wade's chest for support. "Fuck, feels so good- you're so good, baby."

"Wade-" Logan tries, his mind at a war of sensations. Wade's thrusts get faster, his hands strongly guiding Logan's hips up and down.

"Just like that. So gorgeous for me-"

Logan's heart seemed to be about to blow up.

It was too much.

"St- Yellow!"

Wade's movements immediately halt to a stop. Logan tries to catch his breath, hands still in the merc's chest.

"What's wrong, peanut?" Wade asks, trying to search Logan's face, but he was avoiding his eyes. "Did I do something you didn't like?"

Logan doesn't know how to respond. He barely knows what he's feeling. "No... Just... Stop talking..."

Wade tilts his head to the side, a bit puzzled. He could see the blush on Logan's features.

"I didn't say anything much... I just said you look pretty." Logan's cock twitches again at the words and he curses himself internally because Wade definitely noticed.

"Oh..." Wade chuckles. "I see." His hips resume to their previous movements, thrusting up into Logan, earning a surprised moan from his throat. "What, is kitty cat not used to being complimented? Oh, I'm definitely fixing that."

"W-Wade!" Logan whines, his face flushing more now that Wade reads into him.

The merc switches their positions for a second time, pressing Logan down on the bed. He thrusts slowly, hands gripping Logan thighs.

"It's all true. You do look so pretty." His hips move in a steady rhythm, slowly picking up the pace, bullying his way into Logan's hole. Logan whimpers loudly as each thrust hits his prostate, his heart racing. "Look so hot riding my cock, under me, on your knees, from the back... You look gorgeous in every angle, peanut. Wanna draw you naked, frame it and put it in the living room like a fucking renaissance painting."

"Wade..." Logan's moans grow more needy, the words slipping from the merc's mouth only pushing him closer, his face flushed deeply.

"Gonna make sure you know it. Gonna tell you every day. Shower you in praises the way you deserve, kitten." Wade's hand wrap around Logan's dripping cock, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure.

"Fuck- Wade, I-"

"I know, baby. Be a good kitty and cum for me." Logan's back arches, his claws extending in a flash as he spills all over Wade's hand and his own stomach, his vision going black for a moment. He feels Wade's cock twitching before releasing inside him, their moans tangling.

As they catch their breaths, Wade presses his head against Logan's neck and pampers kisses all over his throat and shoulders, pouring all his affection into it.

"Did so good for me. Such a good kitty. You okay?" Wade whispers against his neck.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Logan smiles lazily, still lightheaded.

"I don't think you know how a safe word works, peanut. Next time you like something, just tell me." Wade chuckles.

"My bad, I panicked..." Logan chuckles too, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"You're so cute, Wolvie."

[ryuichirou]

TWST boys’ sleeping habits and routine HCs

Our first HC post of the year! Let’s talk about TWST boys’ sleeping habits.

Anonymous asked:

May I request sleep habits for twst? Who snore? Who drools? Who clings onto you in your sleep? Who falls out of bed w/o waking up? Who knocks others out of bed? Who has a constant sleep schedule? Who has the worst? Who likes to share a bed? Who doesn't? Who does no one want to share a bed with?

Anonymous asked:

In honor of the sleepover bday card (Tysm for these, yana) do you have any hcs about their sleeping habits? How long they sleep, sleeping positions, any bedtime routines and the like?

I got the first ask back in autumn I think (yikes), and with each new bday card I kept thinking “I really should write this one faster” lol With the new theme for those cards, as amazing as it is (we’re obsessed), there is a chance that they might drop some crucial information about the topic of this post! Which would mean the most horrible thing – there is a chance that my hc might contradict canon…!! 😱

Jokes aside, please keep in mind that I write them without diving into the new cards. Which is exactly the point I guess – those are headcanons after all…

Thank you for this prompt, it was a very fun one to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it <3 Sorry it took so long!

Anyways…

Riddle – he has a pretty strict regimen, and just like some other boys in the cast, he gets very obviously sleepy around the same time every day. The cutest eepiest slow blinks… He goes to sleep pretty early, maybe around 10 PM, and he is very strict with others in that regard as well, but in actuality sometimes night becomes his opportunity for a “me time” when he can get a little self-indulgent and read a book instead. He knows that he shouldn’t do it, and that he’ll be tired and irritable the next day, but it would be a lie to say that Riddle absolutely never does that. Once he discovers books that aren’t encyclopedias or study guides, he’ll start doing it more often… He also looks like an angel when he sleeps! And he drools a little bit, but also pouts adorably. He also loves pushing his face against the pillow sometimes and hugging it. He’d probably cuddle or press his cheek against someone if he got to sleep with another person…

Ace – a fighter, not a lover. If he sleeps with someone, he’ll steal both the blanket and the second pillow somehow. He’ll also kick and punch and occasionally even nibble a little, just to drool all over the other person and/or a pillow. But also, he wakes up during the night a lot. It’s not like he has insomnia, but sometimes he finds it difficult to fall back asleep, so he ends up just hanging out, scrolling internet on his phone and watching his roommates sleep. Well, mostly Deuce, because his bed is the closest. And even though Ace himself is a pretty obnoxious sleeper, sometimes he can spend like an hour just giggling at poor Deuce… Jokes on Ace though: because of his sleepless shenanigans he hates waking up! He is never rested enough..!

Deuce – he mumbles in his sleep and moves a little… you know when a dog starts suddenly whining and “running” while sleeping because it dreams of chasing someone? That’s Deuce. He is not too active at night, but Ace saw him punching the air once and saying something like “serves you right”, and Ace had to bite his own hand not to laugh loudly waking everyone up. Deuce also says embarrassing stuff sometimes. He also called Ace an idiot in his sleep at least 5 times. He wakes himself up doing that sometimes, but pretty rarely. When he does though, he usually sits up on his bed and takes a couple of moments to figure out what’s going on. Ace loves talking with him when he is in this confused stage…

Trey – he probably falls asleep pretty fast because he gets tired by the end of his busy days. But he never really feels properly rested, even though he sleeps a normal amount of hours… is it because he sleeps on his stomach? He also looks kind of angry when he’s sleeping, as if he’s seeing some very bad dreams. But he never really remembers them when he wakes up, maybe he doesn’t see any bad dreams at all! But it’s not unusual for him to frown and squeeze a pillow or a blanket in a very tight grip while he’s sleeping. He also doesn’t really snore, but sighs every now and then, so a potential roommate might hear a very deep annoyed and disappointed sigh from Trey, only to look at him and see that he’s just sleeping… If he was to sleep with someone though, he’d probably have a hard time relaxing and would wait until the person is asleep. Especially if it’s Riddle.

Cater – he spends the majority of the night in his phone lol he doesn’t even have much to do there, he just scrolls through Magicam or watches videos on topics he isn’t really interested in. And he is sleepy when he does that, he recognises that he should probably go to sleep already, but he can’t quite beat this habit, so he just keeps sleeping for like 3-5 hours a day. He wouldn’t do it if he had someone to sleep with though! Or at least he thinks that, but he’d probably still spend the majority of the night chatting with the person instead lol For now he gets away with it because he snoozes during the classes, but whenever he hears someone talk about how bad it is for your health to cling to your phone instead of sleeping, he gets mildly annoyed.

Leona – a pretty seamless transition between his “just napping” and “sleeping” lol Sometimes he naps after dinner and then at some point it becomes “well it’s night already anyways so might as well go to sleep”. And then he wakes up during the night and walks around his dorm while everyone’s asleep… and goes right back because he is pretty bored, and there isn’t much to do. He changes his positions a lot throughout the night, but usually ends up sleeping on his back – it’s the most comfortable position to him. It’s not unusual to see him sleeping on his side facing the wall, or on his stomach with his butt in the air for some reason. Leona is a pretty quiet sleeper, but sometimes he makes little sniffing sounds. Sometimes he makes one (1) snore and wakes himself up and looks shook for a moment or two. He also calls himself a capricious prince, but sometimes he actually prefers to sleep on the floor. Not all the time though, he loves his bed as well. He also hates the idea of sleeping with someone, but it’s not like he would bother to wake up and tell the other person to leave if he was in this situation.

Ruggie – if he is in a very good mood, well-fed and comfortable and safe, he is a happy snoring starfish. He drools a lot, and even when he doesn’t snore, his breathing is still pretty loud and a bit hoarse, but it also sounds like he is pretty happy. But that doesn’t happen all the time, for the most part he curls into a ball and snores quietly every now and then, with his ears twitching, as if he is constantly trying to still be aware of his surroundings. For the most part he is a light sleeper and doesn’t even sleep for more than 5-6 hours, but when he gets especially tired, he doesn’t wake up easily. He hated waking up at night because when it happens, he has to get comfortable again – he wants his pillow to be super cold, but it’s already a little sweaty and all warm! This is the worst feeling.

Jack – as we know, he always goes to sleep at the same time, and he gets very sleepy at 10 PM. He wakes up pretty early though, probably the earliest in his entire dorm, at around 5 AM. It’s not as hot when it’s this early, plus he really loves the solitude: he feels like he gets more shit done this way, and of course it gives him plenty of time to exercise and jog. As for his sleeping habits, he doesn’t move at all when he sleeps. He just lies on his side, hugs the pillow and sleeps… similarly to Deuce, Jack gets those sleeping puppy moments, but his are a bit different: sometimes Jack growls in his sleep, he also frowns a lot. There are rare moments when he sleeps with his tongue out and breathes through his mouth, but it happens mostly when it’s too hot, and he starts throwing away pillows and blankets without waking up when it happens. He gets hot pretty easily… He also drools a little less than Ruggie, but still a lot.

Azul – he sleeps for exactly 7.5 hours each night to optimise his time, and he is an extremely cautious and light sleeper. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, he won’t fall asleep anywhere other than his bedroom, behind closed and locked doors. It’s not like he is expecting an assassin or two at all times to attack him at any moment, and life on the land isn’t as dangerous as his hometown underwater, but isn’t comfortable with the idea of becoming too comfortable, so to speak. It’s a habit, I guess. Any unexpected sound or movement would wake him up. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, that is; we’ve seen him falling sleep with his head on Riddle’s shoulder in ch6 after all… Azul also lives tiny and dark spaces, so he hides under his blanket. Even though his bed is pretty big, Azul doesn’t take up that much space at all, curling up with his knees almost touching his chin. He also absolutely wouldn’t call himself a cuddler, but it’s not really true: he hugs his pillow a lot with his arms and legs, and if he was to sleep with someone, he would probably hug them as well. It sounds cute, but he is actually too rough sometimes because he is used to grabbing things. He could also pinch the person he sleep with… octopus habits… poor Idia is covered in bruises :(

Jade and Floyd – they have different sleeping patterns, but a similar “base” for it. They go to sleep at different times, and since they share a room, it’s kind of a problem.  Jade goes to bed pretty much at the same time each night; sometimes because he gets tired, sometimes to spite Floyd a little by saying “I am so tired, can you please turn off the lights already?” Sometimes he genuinely wants to sleep, but it’s Floyd who is annoying him… and every now and then there are nights when Floyd is absolutely exhausted and goes to sleep early, and Jade takes it as an opportunity to troll him back by suddenly deciding to clean a terrarium while humming a song. Why now of all times? A sudden strike of inspiration <3 You can either blame neither of them, or both of them for that: both are aware that they’re annoying the other by not letting him sleep. Anyways, when it comes to their sleeping habits, both are swimmers. They either move their bodies in the same manner as if they’re swimming (sometimes it just looks like Floyd is aggressively humping his bed but that’s not it I swear), or rotate. Because eels love rotating, the second option happens surprisingly often, so both of them are at risk of falling from their beds and rotating on the floor until they bonk each other with their heads and proceed to sleep on the floor. The funny thing is, when they sleep underwater, they’re pretty calm and don’t move as much; I guess they do miss swimming… Floyd is also more of a cuddler than Jade, but Jade is more of a muncher. If Idia sleeps with both of them, the bite marks are going to be Jade’s…

Kalim – it looks like he sleeps without a care in the world, which isn’t really the case because his bad experiences have taught him to wake up very quickly and to react to sudden noises. He is actually pretty tender and capricious as well, if something about his sleeping conditions isn’t perfect, he’s going to react. Every now and then Kalim just goes to Jamil with “hey, Jamil? I can’t sleep” and asks for them to sleep together, or insists of chatting because he isn’t sleepy anyway. Kalim loves not sleeping alone, but talking through the night is something that Kalim absolutely adores. They used to do it a lot when they were kids, and always got in trouble for that (esp considering that Kalim sleeps for the entire day after a sleepless night)…Kalim also clings a lot, but then he suddenly gets too hot and pushes Jamil away without even waking up. But then he gets a bit chiller and starts clinging again. He drools and makes cute little sounds, and anyone other than Jamil would probably find sleeping Kalim as adorable as one would find a babbling toddler. Jamil, however, is very tired…

Jamil – another cautious sleeper, he is almost never 100% asleep, so in a way he is worse than Azul. He does get sleepy though, he is indeed very tired, and it sucks because the tiny window of time before he falls asleep is his only opportunity to get some “me time” and read a book or play games on his phone, but he never does that because he is always exhausted. So after his sleeping preparations, washing his face, brushing his hair and all that stuff, he just wants to sleep… he also hates sleeping with someone, because they (let’s be honest mostly Kalim) would accidentally tug on Jamil’s hair, plus it’s too hot to sleep with someone on a small bed, plus he isn’t really a cuddler anyway. Anyways, he goes to sleep like an hour after Kalim’s sleepy time, and wakes up ~3-4 hours before him. Which isn’t enough time to get a nice rest, but… let’s hope that when Jamil gets to travel and has a hotel room all for himself, he’ll have his first ever nice sleep…

Vil – one of the strictest ones when it comes to his sleeping regimen! Beauty sleep is important, discipline is important, and if one has to work or study during the night, they’re just very bad at time management! Of course, there are days when Vil has to stay up late too… but he hates when it happens; he just wants to have his evening beauty routine, wash his face without a rush, take a nice shower, apply an overnight beauty mask, brush his hair, put on his sleepwear, relax in his bed and have a nice deep sleep from 10:30 PM to 5:30-6:00 AM. Oh, he also wears a sleeping mask and even earplugs sometimes, and also tries to teach himself not to use his phone while in bed. It just ruins his mood, and it’s bad for one’s health too, but he still gives in and scrolls Magicam in bed sometimes. And when it comes to sharing a bed with someone, he is a bit conflicted – it’s not like he hates cuddling, in fact, he enjoys spending the night in his loved one’s embrace, and he doesn’t even get too pissy about feeling hot, sweaty or uncomfortable in that situation, but… I guess Vil just loves having a big bed all for himself lol This is his moment of privacy. So whether he’ll spend the night alone or cuddling depends entirely on his mood that day. He is a very quiet sleeper, and the most that could be heard from him is a cute quiet moan when he’s being disturbed by something.

Rook – does he sleep? Or is he too busy being in everyone’s walls? His roommate doesn’t quite get it: when he falls asleep, Rook isn’t there yet, and when he wakes up, Rook’s already left. He knows that Rook sometimes spends the night with Vil, but… In actuality, Rook does sleep, but he is very strategic about his sleeping schedule. He doesn’t sleep much during the night, 4-5 hours is his max because he has too much to do! Sometimes he takes short 20 minutes powernaps during the day while he’s hiding around. This man is, once again, a creature. Also, even though one would say it’s impossible to catch Rook sleeping, people do see him sleeping sometimes – it’s just that he learned how to do it with his eyes open and while sitting up. Which is… a bit scary, so anyways! When it comes to his bedtime routine, after all the beauty stuff is done, he spends quite a lot of time to admire the pictures that he took and the sketches that he drew of everyone that day – this is a very important ritual to him! But despite that, he actually really enjoys sharing a bed with someone, be it for intimacy or just for cuddling. He hugs and kisses a lot, even when the other person is already asleep. He also loves watching him sleep, which is not creepy at all!

Epel – he shouldn’t use his phone in his bed, but he does! When he manages to sneak it under his blanket, that is. But it’s also not unusual for him to fall asleep while holding a phone and to have it fall on his pretty little face, waking him up. So he tries not to overdo it… he is a very cute sleeper though! He makes sounds, but a little weird ones, like little whines or even tiny mewls sometimes. And sometimes he giggles very cutely! What kind of dreams are you having, Epel?! Anyways, he is a deep sleeper that munches on his pillow sometimes. It’s better than sucking a thumb, and I won’t say that Epel just taught himself out of that fairly recently, but I also won’t say that this isn’t the case. Alright, no more bullying lol I think he sleeps on his side while hugging a blanket. Very adorable, until he starts snoring or swearing in his sleep…

Idia – a lot of times he just falls asleep in front of his PC. Especially now that he doesn’t have Ortho to share a room with, but even when Ortho was his roommate, he’d go to the sleeping mode at some point and tell Idia to go to sleep as soon as possible, Idia would reply with “yeah yeah I’m going” and play games for 2 more hours until falling asleep in his chair… Sometimes he wakes up at like 5 AM, realising that he’s been sleeping for a while, and lazily crawls on top of his bed without even changing into his pjs. He doesn’t really have much of a routine… He also curls up when he’s sleeping, looking like a cute kitten, and you almost feel bad for him somehow when you look at him. Is it because his relaxed face is so pathetic? Or should we feel bad because of how troubled he is when he’s asleep? Anyways, Idia either sleeps for 3-4 hours and naps throughout the day, or sleeps for 10 hours and feels weird when he finally wakes up. He is also super not used to sleeping with someone else and would be uncomfortable, but there is a part of Idia that wouldn’t mind getting backhugged by Azul (until he starts pinching) or… sometimes Idia wonders if Muscle Crimson hugs his possibly existing wife when they sleep.

Ortho – I guess not applicable this time :( But he does consider himself charging in his sleeping mode to be his sleeping routine! Sometimes he “wakes up” earlier than everyone and just flies around the dorm though. Human!Ortho would be a very nice sleeper though, he would change poses like 10 times per night, even kick poor Idia a little. He would prefer to sleep in Idia’s bed even when they aren’t roommates anymore, and he would probably be one of the biggest cuddlers in the cast!

Lilia – no regimen, his sleeping schedule is a mess, pretty similar to Idia’s. He used to be very good at it when he was younger, but now he just plays games all night lol And then after saying good night to his internet friend, he decides to go to bed and… stumbles upon some useless junk in his room and decides to play with it! It’s okay, old people don’t need to sleep all that long, if at all sometimes. It’s not unusual for Lilia to completely ditch sleeping, but he can’t do it for more than one day… When it comes to position, Lilia just falls flat on his bed and starts snoring loudly. He has that dad snore… He also changes positions a lot, and he could kill a guy with how suddenly he moves and rolls. Sometimes he also sleeps upside down, hanging from his bed’s canopy. He also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, he is pretty used to it! In a lot of ways… but people sleeping with him get punched and kicked unless he hugs them tightly, so not everyone is really up to that.

Silver – after his evening training, his nighttime routine and checking on his father to tell him to go to sleep already, Silver comes back to his room… and sleeps. Even his evening routine doesn’t take that long – I don’t think he uses any products on his face or even brushes his hair much. He washes himself, changes into his pjs and goes to bed… And for the most part he sleeps on his back, looking like a certain cursed princess. There isn’t much to say about the way he sleeps, but he breathes very quietly and cutely, and looks absolutely stunning. His roommates really want to kiss him sometimes… but not a single one dared to do it so far. Silver also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, but to him it wouldn’t really make s difference one way or another.

Sebek – amazingly strict regimen that he follows dutifully! He’s never late, he always wakes up exactly one minute before his alarm and turns it off! He goes to bed at 11 PM and wakes up at 5 AM! And it doesn’t make him sleepy in the slightest – in fact he has too much energy to burn and too much things to do! That being said, sometimes he wakes up randomly in the middle of the night and has a hard time falling back asleep. I guess he’s just too agitated and overly excited sometimes… But he tries to quiet his thoughts and get back to sleep as soon as possible. When it comes to his sleeping habits, he is surprisingly… chill. One would expect him to be more obnoxious, but he yells in his sleep extremely rarely! Once every 2-3 months… so you never know when it’s going to happen next. He also looks at his liege’s portrait before going to sleep and when he wakes up, this is the first and last thing he sees every day, and it warms his heart and fills him with determination. As for sleeping with someone, he doesn’t mind if he has to do it, but he doesn’t see a point in that either. A silly boy…

Malleus – sometimes it feels like he doesn’t sleep at all. Maybe he doesn’t really need to sleep as much as humans do? Which is kind of ironic, but anyways, it’s not unusual for his bed to be empty at night because Malleus suddenly decided that he isn’t really sleepy, and figured he’d rather go on a walk. Sometimes he just walks around the dorm, but a lot of times he goes outside to get some fresh air. He loves the time of night when everything is quiet and everyone’s asleep, he finds it melancholic… perfect for drowning in deep thoughts, admiring gargoyles and reading. Anyways, when he does sleep, he almost doesn’t look alive: he breathes very quietly and looks so pale and cold… he actually gets much colder during the night, so he’d be naturally drawn to another person’s heat. He was very clingy when Lilia used to sleep in his bed~ He still is sometimes…