#but the amount of times that memory makes me laugh probably beats it out

[dickgraysonsbitch]

MOTH TO A FLAME — DICK GRAYSON X JOURNALIST!READER

3.3k words | divider by @cafekitsune | requests open !

summary: your relationship with dick grayson was history two years ago. as of yesterday, you were (not so) happily engaged to another man, and your relationship with him was swoon-worthy, but it seems like it could crumble like a house of cards. so when your perfect ex comes back into your life for help on a case, will you go back to him like a moth to a flame?

you’re just a moth to a flame.

you were engaged. you knew this, this wasn’t new fucking information, and you were supposed to feel elated, on top of the world, like you were on cloud nine or some other shit people in love said—wait, no. you were in love with your fiancé, or at least you tried to be. he was sweet, and he looked good, with his fluffy blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and lean figure. nerd hot. just your type, but why did it seem like as every day went on, you kept trying to convince yourself that this was what you wanted?

you stretched your arms before lugging yourself out of bed, grabbing your phone to check your messages, which you assumed were the reason that your phone was buzzing so much that it was about to fall off your dresser.

PHOTOS NOTIFICATION: november, 2021, AMUSEMENT MILE THEME PARK. do you want to share this memory with DICKIEBIRD 💙?

you pressed your mouth into a line, reminiscing. that was probably the best time you’d ever had in your entire life. you, dick, wally and artemis, eating cotton candy and popcorn at an amusement park.

“one more bite of food and you’re going into carnival crime territory, wally,” you sing, your voice carrying its signature teasing lilt. “then i’m going to win, and you’ll have to pay for everything.”

“just make your stupid boyfriend pay, he’s the billionaire!” wally's disgruntled groan came from a foot behind you, were he was still struggling on his second milkshake. sucker.

dick threw an arm around your shoulder, spreading a hint of warmth over your torso. he was, as you liked to call him, your personal space heater. “hey, it’s the son of a billionaire. and i’d much rather see my super sexy girlfriend beat my best friend’s ass.”

artemis grinned, her phone ready to snap a picture of when wally would undisputedly hurl like a toddler who had eaten too many gerber puffs. “me too, so hurry up, wally.”

the memory of dick throwing up because of the amount of sugar he had consumed in the short span of three hours almost had you laughing out loud, with your fiancé in the bed right next to you. god, you were so pathetic.

“something funny?” his low voice was next to your ear, and you could almost feel his breath on your neck, but for some reason, you wanted to push him away.

your breath hitched, and the guilt crept into your heart again. you were in bed with your fiancé, and you were daydreaming about your ex-boyfriend, who probably forgot your existence. dick was charming, but even you knew that he had a steady stream of people on call to fuck. one of the plus sides to being the hottest person in blüdhaven, you guessed.

“uh, just checking the group chat. girl stuff, matt, you can’t see it.” your mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk, and you quickly stood up and walked towards the shower, rapidly checking the group chat that you opened up your phone for. curse dick grayson and his beautiful blue eyes, which were obviously the only reason you stared that that picture for so long. not the lovesick look he had on his face when looking at you, and definitely not his flirty smile when you made eye contact with him. that would be crazy, right?

maybe you should finally open the group chat.

rue: so how’d your night go?? 😉

annie: i bet she’s so tired that she can’t even walkkk

charlie: ofc she can’t, it’s matt myers!! he’s so fine 😩😩

the conversation then devolved into a discussion of which of matt’s photoshoots was the ‘hottest’, which should’ve made any other, self respecting friend group shy away from the conversation, but never rue, annie and charlie. no, they said that matt was too ‘sexy’ to be quiet about, and it was like they were waiting for you to mess up just to take your place. the sad part was that you wouldn’t mind letting them.

you had met matt, ironically, at a wayne gala that you were covering post breakup with dick, which was the only way that you measured time nowadays. he was hot enough to be… a rebound, and you were okay with that, until he started hounding you for a date. one date, two dates, and suddenly, a year and a half later, you were engaged. the next step, obviously (in matt's words), was the whole white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and living the rest of your days in your dream house. if it was so obvious, why did it make your stomach curdle like you had a flu? why did the idea of kids with matt, being bonded to him for life, make you want to toss your stupid ring at his face, pack your bags, and run? did he even know why your favorite color was dark blue? did matt myers know that the reason that the sapphire stone on your ring was because of dick grayson?

you glanced at your fiancé before looking at your phone and sighing. “matt, i'm going out for some fresh air.” your heart panged. maybe you should give matt some slack, because after all, he picked up the pieces of you after dick so abruptly left. maybe he was better than what you gave him credit for. maybe the two of you would work long term, and you could go the white picket fence with him. it couldn’t hurt. “wanna come with?”

“nah. get me some seaweed chips though, from erewhon. we ran out.” matt shot you a badly timed wink, which made you grimace, and in that moment, you realized a very disturbing fact. nobody could make your blood pump like dick grayson, and no matter who you were with, there would only be one man on your mind.

sighing, you quickly changed into a ratty hoodie and leggings, making sure you weren’t in some sort of nightmare dream that you weren’t able to get out of. because that was your dream, right? being engaged to an incredibly attractive, talented and kind person, and spending the rest of your life with him? you gave yourself a short pep talk in the mirror—“you are hot! everyone wants you! you are engaged!”—before slipping on your shoes and calculating the distance to blüdhaven’s nearest erewhon, which was an easy twenty minute walk away. maybe you could thank matt for the exercise that he was always hounding you to do.

step. step. step. your walk turned into the same banal rotation of the past year and a half of your life, always the same thing over and over, and the thought of what your life might have been like if you had just stayed clung in your mind like cobwebs. unwanted, unnecessary, but it made your heart ache just a little bit to get rid of them.

erewhon came faster than you expected it to, and you stepped inside, the chilly air hitting your face like a wall of ice, and you grabbed a basket, picking up those chips matt loved. he was safe. safe and comfortable, but why did safe and comfortable suddenly feel like boring and predictable?

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflective glass of the door, yearning to see the bright eyed, excitable girl that existed only a few years ago, but all you saw was… you. drained, unhappy, a permanent frown on your face. you attempted a smile, pulling your mouth from both sides, but the result was only a mix of a grimace and a clown’s toothy grin. you couldn’t smile right either.

your phone pinged, and a blue heart showed up on your screen. you hadn’t texted him in two years, but the icon still made your heart flutter with anticipation, before your squashed it like a bug under a boot.

DICKIEBIRD 💙: hey smartie pants! i need to talk to u about something important. let’s meet at 0900 at lux?

you bit your lip. the pros of this: you could finally get closure. dick grayson was hard to get ahold of, but maybe this was your chance to ask him—why did the two of you not work? was it you? was it him? or was it his true first love, nightwing?

you: hey. does 0930 work? i’m out running errands right now.

a beat.

DICKIEBIRD 💙: yeah! miss u lots, btw. see you then!

two hours later, after you had dropped off matt’s life-sustaining seaweed chips for a disgruntled “thanks, babe” in return, you walked into lux, your favorite sweater and skirt combo clinging onto you like a second skin. you’d worn a different, light blue dress on instinct, but you quickly realized that the dress you had picked out was dick’s favorite, so it immediately out of the question. shame, it was a damn hot dress.

“hey!” you heard a cheery voice from behind you. he said your name like it came off easy, like you hadn’t been each other’s confidants once upon a time. he said your name the way you wished that you could say his, with no meaning attached behind it. “it’s been so long, and you look great!” his eyes flicked to the stone on your left hand ring finger, and you could swear that his face fell the smallest amount, but if he felt anything, he didn’t tell you.

you didn’t have the same self control that he did. his name fluttered off of your tongue like a prayer, like he was a god and your only chance at salvation. “dick… um… hi. yeah, you look great too, but i guess enough people tell you that on a daily basis.”

“well, i hope you’re getting complemented just as much. what, your fiancé not doing it for you anymore, or is that just a pretty rock?” he grinned, his dimples highlighted by the dim light in the club. you suddenly kicked yourself for even showing up. how could he read you like a book by only looking at you for a minute or two, max?

your eyes widened, heart beating out of your chest. “uh, i mean… i’m engaged. matt. that’s his name. matt myers.”

as if reading your mind, dick’s smile fell, and he placed a comforting hand on your forearm. “hey, i didn’t mean anything by the pretty rock comment, okay? don’t stress, i’m not here to seduce you.” oh, dick. what you’d give for him to say the opposite. “i’m actually here about a case. not bruce related, by the way. my usual case partner on this one is having a little trouble, so i thought…” he shrugged, because telling you that you were a backup didn’t break his heart, not like being on the receiving end broke yours. it wasn’t a shatter, just a tiny crack to the ones that he’d been adding all this time.

“yeah, i can help you out. what’s up?” you tried to seem nonchalant, but maybe the pain seeped through your voice. you wouldn’t count it against your terrible emotional regulation skills, but a small part of you was itching to help—to get back into the routine that truly sparked fire in you, instead of the rabbit food conversations that had matt jumping around like it was Christmas.

dick pulled out a variety of manila folders, labeled with a variety of female names on them, and a type of flower. he pinched three different photos of the victims, you were assuming, who were mauled and then arranged into neat shapes, with their hands crossed over their chest like mummies, and a clean, crisp white flower placed on top of them. the flowers were all different species’, you noted, with some including a white rose, a white poppy, and a white petunia.

“what do you have so far?” your voice came off far too eager, far too fast and far too interested. no, this was a favor he was coming to you for, so why did it feel like you were a caged bird that could finally sing, stretch it’s wings and soar into the sky without inhibitions? dick pressed his lips together, running a hand though his tousled, raven hair. god, what you’d give to have the chance to do that one more time. maybe dick was right when he broke up with you, because if you couldn’t even control yourself when you had a fiancé, how did he know that you could handle being with him?

he hesitated—it was evident in the way that he froze before trying to say something again. perhaps he was also thinking about the other times that you helped him with his cases, spending late nights poring over pictures and elaborate pictures, only to end up watching the real housewives of beverly hills instead. or maybe he was rethinking, questioning, even, why he had even involved you in the first place. you wouldn’t hold it against him; you’d always been too interested for your own good.

“close to nothing. no prints, no dna, just these flowers, whatever they mean. i wanted to know if you could reach out to shy of your sources—see if they know anything. they’ve been helpful before.” his voice sounded tired, not the usual, cheery voice he pasted onto himself. it made you feel a bit better, if you could call it that, that he didn’t feel the need to pretend to be the golden wayne child in front of you. or maybe you were delusional in your belief that he’d even let his facade drop.

you bit your lip, and twisted the dark blue engagement ring on your finger absentmindedly. “is this a nightwing problem, or an officer grayson problem? because that makes a difference in which sources i use.”

dick grinned, and you were mostly sure that it was genuine, with a flash of teeth distracting you from the issue at hand (which was more like the issue on your left hand ring finger) but dick had always had that effect on you. “thinking about breaking the law, future mrs gr—future pulitzer prize winner? to answer your question, if you think about it,” he started, “it’s a both problem.” his face fell, and the wide smile that was there moments ago disappeared so fast that you almost thought that you imagined it. “they’ve started personally targeting people in my family. cass and damian both noticed a tail when they were walking out in the city, and i would be worried if they weren’t, you know, the deadliest people in gotham, but if anything happened to them, i don’t know if i'd be able to forgive myself. or worse, alfred…”

the look on his face is anguished, as if he’s imagining a lifetime of pain being inflicted on his family, and you know that he’s rather take it himself than let anything happen to them. “dick, don’t worry, okay? alfred is probably more dangerous than anyone in your family combined, and i say that after i've met cass and steph. nothing’s going to happen to them. we’re going to find this psycho, then we’re going to get justice for the victims and their families.” you reach out to touch his arm, but the moment your skin makes contact with his, you pull back like his forearm was on fire.

nodding, he looks back up at you, his eyes filled with an admiration you haven’t seen in quite a while. “yeah, i’m overreacting, right? and it’s not like they won’t be able to defend themselves. cass could probably kick my ass on one of her bad days.” he shudders. “she’s awesome and all, but scary as hell.”

you laugh, finally at ease, not on edge about what you’re saying or about to do. “yeah, well, clearly you’ve never seen her in the same room as a full english breakfast. i remember this one time that she came over to our apartment after patrol, and this was at three o’clock in the morning, okay? she walks in, starts getting the eggs out of our fridge…” your eyes catch a glimpse at dick’s face. he’s smiling, his face satiated and truly… happy. how long has it been since you looked like that? the earlier morning comes into your mind, and you stammer, recollecting how you looked in the glass of the fridge at the store. like a broken woman rather than the girl that you used to be.

now it’s dick’s turn to take your hand into his, and rub it gently, the way that he always used to do when you were nervous before taking one of your tests in university, or when you utterly messed up cooking dinner. it meant that he was here for you, that he would be there no matter what, but a small part of your brain wanted to question him nonetheless; if he had left you before, he would leave you again. that was the rule, the past precedent that he had kept for himself, and if he had wanted to stay, he would’ve.

his thumb brushes over your engagement ring, the one that you and forgotten even existed and now felt heavier on your finger than a ton of bricks, the one that your fiancé had given to you as a token of trust. you couldn’t break the one promise you had left, but clearly, dick must have been thinking the same thing. he pulled his hand away the moment he touched the ring, and looked at you with a guilty expression. “so… how long have you guys been…”

“last night.” you said, not an ounce of warmth in your voice. there never was, when it came to matt. it was more like a dry tone of obligation than anything else.

dick’s eyes widened, shame seeping into his expression. “i'm so sorry, sw—i mean, you shouldn’t be here on your engagement day. we can talk some other time, or i can send you—”

“if i didn’t want to be here, dick, i wouldn’t be.”

“good to know.” he smiled, before turning his attention back to the folder in his hands. “hey, i have to go. we’ll keep in touch, alright?” he stands up, about to lean in for a hug, but you stick your arm out, ready to shake his hand. cold and impersonal, but it wasn’t like you were doing a good job of that in the first place.

the two of you settle for a half hug-half handshake combination, somehow making the situation more awkward than it already was. he send you a crooked grin, and it cements itself in your brain, another blip of dick grayson in your grey life. maybe… maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all, and maybe you could rein in your emotions just to see a little more of him, his dark blue eyes haunting your dreams like an apparition. you could sacrifice that and so much more just to have his eyes in your life.

“see you later, right?” you smiled, the muscles in your face contracting in that direction for the first time in a few weeks, perhaps. oh, the things that he did to your poor heart. he waved, mouthing a quick bye to you before picking up a call on his phone, and you could hear a stern ‘jason’ before he vanished, out of earshot, out of sight, but not out of your mind.

you started on your path back home, deciding against taking a taxi when the fares would be the highest. maybe it was just an eerie coincidence on your part, but you swore that there was something behind you, a pair of eyes tracking your every move. you would have cast it aside as paranoia, but it was sending a creeping shiver up your spine, terrifying you to your very bones. perhaps that is what happens when one works on a murder case.

you brushed it off, but the feeling of eyes on your back did not dissipate.

ooh spooky right? does anyone fancy a part two for this one or nah?

[luna-jaden-shadow]

OUAW With Insomniac!Reader

Request - can i request a Once Upon A Witchlight gang x insomniac reader?? ur OUAW cuddling x reader was so cute good heavens 🥺

. . .

. . .

Kremy Lecroux

- Kremy definitely went to bed before you cause he needs his “beauty sleep” and is beyond confused when he wakes up randomly to you not in bed like ??? Hello ???

- He’ll get up and go find you, trying his best not to startle you

- Will sit with you either in silence or chatting between the two of you

- Will 100% pull you into his arms so he can rest his head on top of yours

“Ya know, Gid used to not be able to sleep when we met.” Kremy gently traces his hands up and down your arms. There’s a soft rumble that comes from Kremy as he settles against your back. 

It wasn’t often that you got the softer side of Kremy even his voice was quiet. “Did you use your magic to put him to sleep?” You muse but when he doesn’t answer you laugh, getting a chuckle from him.

“Sometimes, yes. But only when he asked.” He left it at that, an open invitation for whenever you really needed to sleep but couldn’t, he’d have no problem asking you if you would kindly go to sleep.

Gideon Coal

- Will offer to knock you out as a joke and if you agree he doesn’t have the heart to do it and will just fake hit your head before saying how strong you are (will imply it’s cause he’s been giving you fighting lessons on the side)

- Having his fair share of insomnia, Gideon understands how hard it can be and is more than capable of staying up with you if you’ll have him

- Will tell you stories about him and Kremy’s travels to pass the time

“And then they had the nerve to call me a bitch, me!” He throws his arms up and then wraps them around you, huffing at the memory. Your hand runs up his arm, gaining his full attention. 

“What happened next?” You lean against him, playing with his hand in your lap. 

You can almost imagine the smirk on his face as he shifts. “Well I beat the living hell outta him obviously.” He laughs, “Guy was on the ground after the first punch.” 

Morning Frost

- Frost offers to make tea

- Will stay up as long as needed so you’re not lonely

-  You two will get into deep conversation while drinking your drinks, it becomes a regular thing over your time traveling together

“You should just open a tea shop.” You muse, sipping the drink. “I mean after we free ourselves of our mense amount of debt. Take it easy, just sell tea someplace in the mountains.”

“You’ve thought this out.” Frost notes.

“Got a lot of time to think when I’m not sleeping.”  You smile from beside him, Frost’s tail lays across your lap, allowing you to run a hand through every once in a while. He’s secretly hoping it’ll be enough to lure you to sleep so he can also sleep but he’s fine staying up for a little while longer if it’s with you.

Gricko Grimgrin

- Will go dad mode on you don’t think he won’t

- When he says it’s bedtime it’s bedtime even Hootsie knows that

- But when you can’t fall asleep and accidentally wake him up by turning for the 100th time, Gricko will roll on top of you

“What are you planning to accomplish here?” You can’t help but laugh at the Goblin now lying to you. Gricko yawns, snuggling closer to you as a hand raises to place a finger over your lips. 

“It’s bedtime [ your name] so I’m weighing down your thoughts with my body so you sleep.” While his logic didn’t totally make sense who were you to argue with him? Seeing you both awake, Hootsie will totally move in closer, now taking Gricko’s spot so that you’re officially stuck with him. 

“I can’t really argue can I?” Gricko shakes his head, making a noise as he begins to fall back asleep. He’s a little guy he needs his rest and honestly a weighted Goblin is probably a nice help with sleeping. 

Torbek

- 100% Will stay up with you as long as needed he’d rather talk with you than sleep and have nightmares sooo

- He’d totally make up games to wear you down though cause he does care about you 

- Will try to convince you that sleep is important even though you might not be able to help that you can’t sleep

“Torbek believes that we should sleep now, it’ll be tomorrow quicker.” You could laugh at his obvious statement had it not been the middle of the night and everyone else is sleeping away. There’s shifting and suddenly he’s pulling you to him and you’re wrapped up in his arms in bed.

“Believe me, I would love to sleep.” You mumble against him, feeling his hands trace shapes and soothe over your back. You can see the soft glow that comes from the Witchlight fill the room.

“Torbek will not leave, you can sleep.” His hold on you tightens as he holds you against him. You eventually do fall asleep and, true to his word, Torbek was in the same spot when you woke up, he had barely moved.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Spiderman Kiss

Miguel O’Hara x fem! Black Cat! reader

part 2 (18+)

it took me so damn long to write this but here we are. a few of y’all wanted a part two with some steamy times so i shall provide (this shit is so long i’m sorryyyy) this man makes it so easy to write angsty smut i swear.

warnings: dirtytalk, pnv, angsty fluffy yet flirtatious idek anymore, finger sucking. jusy filth all together (may god forgive my soul)

You left Miguel. You left him shattered. You left him wanting more. The kiss was still lingering on his lips.

The rain dripped through his hair, the clouds rumbling above him and darkening with every second that passed after you left him. Miguel thought he looked like an idiot dangling upside down watching an empty space that once carried your perfect frame. He was afraid your scent would fade with his memory, he couldn't move- he was stiff with need, sadness, and angst. He was scattered and he was sure the furrow of his brows expressed that tenfold.

Miguel didn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to do with you.

So many questions melded into his head- he wasn't sure if he wanted to follow his brain or his dick. But his gut was telling him to not let you leave right now. There was nothing he could do though. Miguel had to tamper his own desires down, he had to put his other spiders first. He had to put the damn multiverse first. God, he gave up too much to quit now but a part of him wanted to relieve that pressure...he wanted to relieve that pressure with you.

Miguel groaned as he dragged himself out of his head and walked up the side of the building he was on, swinging from building to building taking in the dark horizon as if to reflect his mood, the rain becoming heavier on his back, beating at his mind like a punching bag. Miguel used this time swinging to contemplate what he wanted, it was simple: he wanted you...but he had other responsibilities. The thunder and lightning rocked above him, souring his mood. All he could think about was how stupid he was, falling for someone he couldn't have, someone he shouldn't want. That bleeding heart of his was going to get him killed.

-

You arrived at your apartment before the rain got too heavy and you couldn't conceal the side smile that was painted all over your face- like you were laughing at an inside joke only you knew. Your kiss with Miguel was still tingling on top of your lips and a blush stained your face ever since. It really went against everything you stood for - wanting the good guy. Well, he wasn't known for being that good...but far too much of a goody-two-shoes for you.

Your apartment was gloomy, a blue hue seeped through the windows as you sighed into the cold empty space. You knew if Miguel was here he would obliterate anything in his path, you swallowed hard at the thought. That dull ache crawled back into your lower stomach and the hairs on your neck stood to attention just thinking about him. Jesus. You threw your umbrella into a dark corner before unbuttoning your trenchcoat and throwing it on the back of the couch. Your boots clacked against the hardwood floor as you went to the kitchen to fix yourself a stiff drink- you needed it tonight so you would forget fucking yourself lazily with only Miguel on your mind, you were hoping it would soften the blow of how pathetic you had become over one kiss with a man you were sure would choose the multiverse over you.

Miguel was at your apartment, hanging outside of your window to see if you were there and you just disappeared to the kitchen. He shimmied your window open quietly and crawled inside, slightly surprised that he fit. He stood up and the first thing his eyes caught onto was the mass amount of stolen paintings you were probably pawning off. Oh, bad girl. Very bad indeed. His eyes were fixed on the doorframe, waiting for you to emerge.

You ruffled your hair, walking out to sprawl on your couch and drink the kiss away even though it was already seared to the forefront of your mind. Looking up, your pulse skyrocketed and a gasp fell sharply from your throat. You dropped your damn drink on your floor. Miguel was happy with the response it was apparent with the smirk that painted his face.

‘’What the fuck?’’ You breathed, clutching at your heart to calm your raising chest. It wasn't working. You weren't sure if it was the fact that he scared you half to death or it was that he was here right now when you were about to strip naked and moan all the feelings away. ‘’Why do all Spider-people hate using fucking doors?’’ You questioned brashly as your foot swiped away at the broken shards of glass that adorned your floor, you'll deal with it later. He was your main focus now. It was like you manifested him.

‘’I didn't scare you, did I?’’He boasted and it made you want to kick his stupidly perfect teeth in, rip out his fangs, put them in a frame, and hang it on your wall. He had this smug look on his face and it was like he was reveling in your reaction.

"You didn't.’’ You lamented hard-eyed scowl and all. You stalked up to him like a smiling assassin looking as hungry as ever, a plan obviously forming in your head but he couldn't see through it. Inches were separating you and he had to tamper down the urge to just grab you. 'I wasn't expecting you back so soon.’’ You exhorted, lithe tongue wetting your lips- reaching for the inside joke. Miguel didn't respond, he was too fucking enthralled by your sheer presence to say anything meaningful. Suddenly, your palm went to his chest and pushed down aggressively hard. ‘’Sit.’’ You ordered endearingly, a sugar coating to the venom you were hiding as your eyes went doe. His eyes daren't waver from yours, they were wide and needy...something you never would've associated with Miguel O'Hara. You sat him down on your couch. ‘’I'll be right back.’’

A plan resided within you, you were going to do what you've always seemed to do with him: toy with him, play with him like you would with a cat and laser pen. It was one of the only constants you had with him. You sauntered and disappeared your way to the kitchen and a wicked idea started to form in your head- the more you thought about it, the more insane it was. But you didn't care. Every second you spent with him was just another semblance of your rationality withering away. You wondered if he affected all women like this- on the brink of insanity. The idea of him with another woman made you wince slightly. Instinctively, you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of your dress, also discarding the underwear and bra that covered you. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed another glass and poured out some whiskey for him like a doting housewife.

Miguel's fingers dug into his thighs, his patience wearing thin as the uncertainty and hunger weren't reaching a healthy equilibrium. He didn't like to be kept waiting. He resented it, his tapping foot and hard face were a clear reflection of that. He raked an exasperated hand through his hair and then he heard soft footsteps behind him. Finally. A flash of skin pierced his peripheral...and his mouth popped open, gaping a hole into your face as he drank you in like a thirsting animal. You were naked in front of him, wearing nothing but an innocent smile for a scene so obscenely filthy. You extended your hand to offer him the drink, acting so obviously coy.

‘’Thirsty?’’

Miguel's eyes were glued to yours, his mind was bugged with white noise and static as you stood there so innocently. Oh, you filthy bitch. You fucking liar. It was like time was frozen as he grabbed the glass from your hand. Miguel suddenly stood up, one massive hand grabbed your waist making you stumble back a few steps and the other crushed the glass with the might of his palm, he was surprised that you didn't even flinch but he was adamant about not showing it. You didn't deserve the privilege after toying with him like this: he was fiending for you. Miguel's grip on your waist was piercing and firm, lolling your head back to look into his eyes was a brutal mistake, they were aglow with rage and want that was slightly terrifying but also oddly thrilling at the same time, the sensation clawed at your throat and you were absorbing every second of it.

‘’Now what's all this?’’ He chuckled menacingly, it was like he was assessing you and the sly smile wired on his face was a large indicator of his greed. A clawed finger went to stroke your face. ‘’Hm?’’

‘’I got tired of waiting on you.’’ Surprising yourself with your own ability to breathe when he's touching you like this.

"I can see why that must be... frustrating...for you.’’ His gaze lowered and raked down your naked body, eating you with his eyes like he was a dog starved. “I can taste how wet you are.” Miguel mumbled as his wandering hands traced their way down your body, leaving a pattern of goosebumps in his wake until he reached your aching heat. '”You want me to make it better?” His fingers teased your entrance, waiting for verbal confirmation of how you wanted him to fuck you.

“I don't just want you...Miguel, I need you. I thought you'd know that by now.” You hoped your desperation would make him get the fucking hint. Now he was acting all patient and stretching it out, you just wanted him to play with you. Instead, he retracted his fingers. You shuddered as his warmth left you, the flames of desire were now roaring but all you could give him was a cold look at his callousness.

“Oh, you need me? Que maravilla... You're spoiling me.” He whispered in your ear then pulled back from you.

You gripped onto his suit and pulled him back into you, desperate eyes searching his. “Now give me what I want.” You sounded way more needy than he anticipated and he loved it. “Please.”

Miguel chuckled lowly, his large hand gripping your cheeks to make you pout and he mocked it like you were a whiny kid. “I've always wanted to fuck your face.”

You were too stiff to reply, his fingers dug into your skin and all you could do was moan.

“Would you let me?”

‘’Perhaps you fancy my pure heart, maybe I should feed it to you.’’

‘’Yeah, I'll do that later.’’ His promise was threateningly genuine and it made you gulp. Miguel suddenly grabbed you as if you weighed nothing and threw you over his shoulder, his apathetic palm smacking roughly against your backside as he dragged you to your bedroom, you yelped at his brashness. ‘’Stop squirming baby. Relax for me.’’

Miguel kicked your bedroom door open before you could even give in to his demands. He threw you on the bed, and without a second to lose you sat at the edge of it, you spread your legs wider for him. He grasped your chin so you were directly looking up into his scorching eyes- that look on your face was sinful. Miguel wasn't sure if was a religious man, not after everything that happened to him but if there was a time to believe in God it would be right now. You can't talk or think properly, it was the most ironic thing he's ever witnessed. You were always so...prepared, so intelligent, and challenging, it was interesting to see this side of you. He stood tall between your parted legs and the silence that boomed between you two was crackling through the air, Miguel's face was unamused as his fingers lightly traced your cheek- an odd form of tenderness in comparison to the filthy shit he said to you about 3 minutes ago. It was like it was the mercy before he was about to eat you whole.

‘’Fucking gorgeous.’’ Miguel muttered drunkenly, his darkening gaze surveying you intently as if you were under a microscope. He memorized every detail and frame of your desperate, whiny face. His thumb brushed the soft flesh of your bottom lip, all you could do was blink up at him dumbly. 'Come on...open up for me.' He urged when his fingers teased your lips, you opened your mouth and your tongue welcomed his large fingers, twisting and turning against the skin. A small shiver rippled through his body as you practically drooled over his fingers.

Mine. Was all he could think. Mine. All mine. No one else's. Miguel's heart skipped a little, a spark setting in his chest at the idea.

He was getting more and more impatient the longer you deepthroated his fingers, it was a little harrowing to see his deepest desires turn into a real-life experience. When he kissed you he thought that you wouldn't reciorocate or that you would kill him for even assuming such a preposterous thing, but no. You wanted him. The way he wanted you. If he were a smarter man he would bury the thought of you, he'd let another man want you up close, not from a distance like he does- but he just couldn't. He couldn't let you go and he resented it.

You just gave him a blank look when he retracted his fingers from your mouth, you wondered if his claws would come out when they were in the deep chasms of your throat, you were unsure if he was about to rip your vocal cords out. Miguel's palm instantly pinched at your cheeks again and he full force-bounced you back to lay flat on the bed. He loomed over you, his other hand sliding between your bodies to feel the softness of your skin, a small layer of sweat adding a little sparkle to your already glowing body. Why was he fucking dragging this along? Here you were, naked and wet, ready to be devoured and he insists on taking his sweet time. The multiverse becomes more and more unstable the longer he's with you. The unsettling thought made you frown and Miguel clocked onto it.

“What's with the frown?”

“Too slow, hurry up.” You moaned in his ear. His eyes darted to the contents of your room and he smirked.

“These paintings...they aren't yours, are they?” Miguel cooed at you. “It's cute that you think you're sneaky.”

“You're one to talk, following me around like an obsessed fan. It's cute.” You bit back at him, his teeth unclenched enough for a low moan to slip out. His mouth followed the trail of goosebumps down your neck, your body started to arch as his mouth captured your nipple, and your eyes widened as you felt his fangs dig into you.

“I want to fucking drain myself in you.” Miguel grunted and you quite literally felt the crunching of bones in his jaw. His nose trailed up your chest, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory.

“Take it off and fuck me or I'll find someone else who's-“ A gasp fell from your lips when he wrappled his fist around your hair and yanked it back. He thre your body around on the bed until your head plummeted to the soft pillows.

“I dare you to finish that sentence hermosa.”Miguel's fingers plunged into you, knuckle-deep feeling at you- so warm, so wet. You were dripping around his fingers. “Come on...finish it.” He moved his fingers in a circular motion, his thumb rubbed and pressed at your clit. A wave of jealousy washed over him at your words, the idea of someone else doing what he's doing to you made his eyes glow a dim red.

“'Miguel-“ He rubbed faster and harder.

“Someone else who's better than me? Someone who's...stronger than me? Someone who can...fuck you like this?’’He trusted his fingers harder into you and it made you cry out. ‘’Apologize.’’

“But I'm not sorry.”

In a flash, his hologram suit exposed his bare skin and your eyes widened at his cock slapping against your thigh. Your gaze wandered down and you couldn't conceal your gape, he was rock hard and the tip was sticky. “I'll make you sorry.”

“You're a bastard M-“ He cut you off with a sharp thrust into your warm wet pussy, Miguel was ambitious as always, glaring a hole into that pretty face to see just how well he was fucking you. Your fingers dug into the skin of his back and clawed, you drew an inkling of blood and he groaned at the sensation. The look on your face was priceless. Your moans bounced off of the walls, growing louder and louder with every thrust, he reached a spot within that you didn't know fucking existed. He thought your body was a work of fucking art, a thin sheen of sweat coated your skin, and every dip and curve was sculpted by Greek Gods. Miguel grabbed onto the headboard as his pace was getting more and more violent, his fist clenched white and his claws dug into the wood.

“You always this tight?” He questions breathlessly, Jesus Christ it was like you were vacuum sealed to his dick. You were sucking him dry. Your face scrunched up cutely as you whined at him, and your hands went to the sheets holding onto dear life. “No, don't clutch the sheets, grab onto me instead.” for once, you actually obeyed. You gripped onto his hair instead and tugged onto it. Miguel grabbed your legs and lifted them onto his broad shoulders, he sucked air into his teeth and his muscles tensed as you squeezed him even harder. “What, no smartass remark hermosa?”

“Oh my God.” You whimpered, and he kissed you passionately to muffle your pretty little sounds, absorbing them onto his tongue. His cock was fucking magic, he stretched you out so well it fucking hurt. The heated curl in your stomach was about to unfurl, the knots were twisting and turning with every brutal kiss and clash of teeth.

“Cum for me. You know you want to.” Miguel boasted like a proud high school jock. The slap of skin echoed around the whole room, he felt your stringy wetness cover him as a raw moan escaped from your lips. Your body arched against the bed as the waves of desire resounded throughout your entire body. You wanted to giggle, you had never come so hard before. It was kind of revolutionary. He fucked you through it, the kisses getting more desperate, passionate, and sloppy as if to mimic his pounding. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it Miguel, please just - fuck.”with those sweet words, you could feel him spurt inside of you, the warm sticky liquid coating your insides. His body tensed with every stroke, completely emptying himself inside of you. Lord, you milked him dry and his groan was an indicator of that. You felt proud of yourself, Miguel O'Hara being breathless was something you never anticipated…well that was before he kissed you and everything went to pure chaos.

You lowered your legs from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist, your lips meeting his tenderly. He liked it when you raked your slender fingers through his hair. He sighed before he pulled out of you, his gaze landed upon your pussy and the mess you both made. You chuckled at each other like a couple of teenagers, lightly blushing and doing the devil's tango. Miguel rolled next to you, both of you panting at what you had just experienced. He was so...good...at that.

The soft dim light lit up the room, the window outside casting a pale shadow of the New York skyline outside. You turned your head to Miguel, his angled features looking stoic as ever. It was obvious his mood changed but you didn't know why. Your cheek was buried in the pillow as you laid on your stomach, your hair tumbling down looking sexed out as always and he almost wanted to laugh, he definitely would've if the weight of the multiverse wasn't on his shoulders. Your hand flew to his and ruffled the disheveled tufts and he practically melted into your touch.

“You're a million miles away.” You repeated what you said earlier tonight before he kissed you. Miguel moved closer to you, leaning up on the divinely carved headboard as you lay there playing with his hair. He was agitated but a sliver of sadness warped through him and he didn't like it. His eyes latched onto yours, heady and scorching, his eyebrows twinging in sadness as he stared into your beautiful face- like it was the last time he'd be seeing it. He opened his mouth to speak but instead, he grabbed the hand that was in his hair and brought it to his lips, kissing your soft glowing flesh and tasting your sweet flushed skin.

“Mi amor.” 'He whispered, placing your palm on his face.

“Oh, that's new.” You smiled, and his eyes lingered on the curve of your ass. He had to suppress a shit-eating grin, his hand landed and stroked the skin of your thighs. “Am I still 'mi amor' even when I've been a bad girl?” You blinked up at him and then stared at all the stolen artwork and sculptures littering your room and adorning every wall, he just squinted your eyes in a judgemental manner at your question, he keep transitioning in and out of silence. It was obvious something was bothering him.

“What is it, Miguel?”

After a palpable silence, he finally opened his mouth, his gaze downcast as if he didn't want to look at you made you all the more confused. “It hurts me. How much I want you...I don't want to be tragically wounded and damaged by demons I can't escape... I just want to be with you.” He began unraveling what was eating at him, baring apart his battered soul and heavy mind, the expression your face made was one of...sorrow. “I don’t want to leave you alone. I can’t but I’m sure you’ve firgured that out by now.”

Miguel's confession echoed through your very soul and tolled at your brain, your heart on the other hand was thumping in your chest and beating at your fingertips. You didn't know what to do or say. You gripped his chin so he could face you, his hold on your thighs becoming stronger.

“You're fighting yourself and you're not even fighting fair. God you have no idea, do you?”

“I don't know what to do.” He replied back softly and it broke your heart seeing him so vulnerable with you, his eyes were quaking in fear. To hear him talk so lowly of himself made guilt pang at your heartstrings, if only he knew what good he's done.

“Have you got any idea how much good you've done? Everything you've done for spiders in every single world?” You urged him to see reason, he was always so damn rational. Why wasn't he seeing it? “Being Spiderman is a sacrifice, you know this. If that means losing sometimes...you must let it pass unhindered. But that doesn’t change how much I want you. ”

“No.” Miguel replied curtly, he knew you were right but he just couldn’t handle the idea of losing you right now. He just grabbed your face and kissed you, toppling you onto his lap to forget all about it and just melt into your warm embrace.

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Part VI

Synopsis: You would say that you grew up together. From children, to teenagers, to young leaders, you did nothing but be who you were and Tobirama would forever name his love for you as the reason he hated the Uchiha.

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including physical child abuse, violence, and non-con elements. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Notes: IT IS HERE! YES! i purposefully make it long and full of drama to make up for the amount of times I pushed the release back. I also put a lot of my own thoughts in the end author’s notes so please enjoy! I most definitely could not have written this content a year ago let me tell you—

The memory of you struck him like lightning, electrocuting him to his core with panic and disgust. He revoked his touch from you as you began to sit up on the riverbank in acute panic. 

He just stared at you. Tobirama had no idea how he remembered you, yet he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. Yes, you were older, but as he considered the shape of your face, he could see the unmistakable look from the forest back then. You had the same nose, such a familiar laugh, and your eyes… even without your sharingan.

He had thought of you as a foul creature. 

That morning when he first saw you in the woods. 

Tobirama had come home much earlier that day in defeat. He hadn’t wanted to stay and train after his encounter with you. He tried to continue, to find another spot to collect himself, but he ultimately couldn’t help but feel that you were still there, watching him. Knowing an Uchiha lurked around in the woods, it was probably best that he didn’t go off alone for his safety.

He remembered how his father stormed toward him when he returned to the compound. Butsuma’s jaw was clenched as tightly as ever, battle-toned arms swinging with each step of his furious gait. He swooped in on his son, grabbing Tobirama harshly by the arm. Tobirama was tugged along awkwardly, his legs too short for the angle at which Butsuma dragged him.

“Where have you been?” his father scolded lowly between gritted teeth. He paid no mind to the Senju meandering down the same dirt road, and they paid no mind to him in turn.

The question nearly made Tobirama’s heart drop in his chest, the memory of you spreading terror like wildfire across his skin. He looked into Butsuma’s gaze with wide eyes, wondering how his father could have possibly known he had made contact with an Uchiha. His fingers unconsciously rose to the space under his right eye, almost trembling. He was sure that his father could feel the tremor through his hold.

“Training, Father,” Tobirama answered earnestly. He almost crashed into Butsuma as his father stopped suddenly, the child only tripping for a moment before he was pulled into a nearby stable. 

“Tobirama, where have you been?” Butsuma barked, repeating his question more harshly. He jerked Tobirama away by the grip on his arm, allowing him to stumble back into the hay. All Tobirama could do was stare, ashamed that he had disgraced the Senju name and that his father could see it painted on him. Promises piled up on his lips: if he saw you again, he would surely kill you that time! He would immediately set out and— “You better answer me now, boy, or I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.”

“I was training with Grandfather’s kunai, Father! On the east end by the mountains like you taught me!” He nodded profusely, scrambling into a deep bow. Tobirama’s eyes knitted closed. 

The silence above him felt like it lasted for an eternity. Tobirama didn’t dare to look, and for a long moment, he couldn’t even meet his father’s eye. Somewhere between the seconds, he found himself mindlessly observing the small population of livestock grazing at the stable's far end. Tobirama glanced at them and their troughs. 

“You were not with Hashirama?” Butsuma spoke slowly, and Tobirama’s head carefully rose with a shake. 

“No, I was not.” Tobirama flinched as Butsuma’s hand came firmly down on his hair, placing just enough weight on his skull to ensure that all of Tobirama’s attention was on him. “I assure you. I was practicing my skill with the kunai.”

“Your elder brother has been acting suspiciously as of late. I want you to find him and report to me what he has been up to.” Butsuma landed a harsh pat on Tobirama’s back, ushering him away. He scrambled away as quickly as he could back into the forest, still gripping the pack of weaponry on his back.

***

It made more sense after that evening. 

Hashirama knelt on a cushion beside him, the two sons before their father. 

“About this boy you have been meeting up with. I looked into that young man and learned that he belongs to the Uchiha clan. Hashirama, you understand what that means, do you not?” The brothers stiffened, forcing on stoic faces so as not to let their discomfort show. Butsuma’s gaze narrowed. “If you do not want to be suspected as a spy, then you must shadow him after the next time the two of you meet. And if he should notice you… kill him.” 

Tobirama eyed his brother nervously. Undoubtedly, the conflict between the Senju and the Uchiha would mean this was the only way to rectify things. Tobirama stared down at his lap, guilt weighing down on his shoulders. 

There was no way for anyone to know about his encounter with you, and even if his father found out, Tobirama was different. At least he tried to kill you. That was enough, wasn’t it? Unlike Hashirama, he at least tried to do the right thing and kill the Uchiha on sight, no matter his level of success.

After a moment of preponderance, Hashirama spoke again,

“Are you completely sure he is an Uchiha?” 

Tobirama gulped, bracing himself for the heavy hit that awaited Hashirama. But it didn’t come. Butsuma studied him with crossed arms, bubbling rage mounting in his chest. He gritted his teeth.

“You trust a member of the clan who killed your brother?” Butsuma simmered. Tobirama stewed, praying for the moment that he was allowed to leave. Hashirama sat confused and still deep in thought on his cushion, not appearing nearly as worried as he should, in Tobirama’s opinion. “If he has been tricking you, you are putting every single Senju in danger.”

Despite Tobirama attempting to convince him otherwise, Hashirama was reluctant to comply. But after a lengthy beating from Butsuma, Hashirama finally agreed to be followed. As they eventually left the room, Tobirama couldn’t help but avert his gaze from the deep bruises and the forlorn expression on Hashirama’s face. 

***

“I am an apothecary,” you had told him. 

He didn’t ask you where. With the tumultuous clan wars, Tobirama assumed you were part of a smaller, nomadic group. As the more prominent clans and clan alliances fought, non-combatants traveled to safer ground, ironically forming their own larger herds for protection.

That was Tobirama’s first mistake: assuming.

“An apothecary,” Tobirama repeated. You wore his fur, curled up against a bed of river glass and hidden between a mess of boulders. He sat on a nearby rock, the headband you had confiscated and returned to him clutched in a ball in his hand. Tobirama cocked his head. “Is that a healer?”

“A woman healer?” you asked, hardly restraining the tiny smile that graced your lips. Your eyes glowed with wonder as you leaned forward, having never heard of such a thing. “No, I am afraid I only collect herbs for medicine. Although our current apothecary is very old, he taught me how to create medicines when we used to live by the coast. A rare honor.” Tobirama’s eyebrows rose on his forehead with an impressed blink.

“That is admirable. Your work takes a keen eye and a sharp mind.” You shifted against the grass to sit with your legs crossed as you leaned forward. A patch of small river flowers grew in a cluster where the gravel of the riverbank began. The white petals grew sporadically down the length of the land. You weaved your fingers through the tiny stems, the pure light color glowing against your skin. 

“You know about medicine?” you mused.

“Yes, my clan is well renowned for our knowledge of various medicines. The children are taught about these things at a young age, although, I possessed neither a keen enough eye nor a sharp enough mind for healing, to the disappointment of my mother.” You drew a bent knee toward your chest, rearranging your long robes as you gently collected the tiny flowers.

“Was she a woman healer?” You scooted forward to sit in front of him.

“No,” he said, letting you smooth back his hair. “She was a warrior like my father. Wove baskets—beautiful baskets— when she was with us. My grandmother was a master healer, though.”

“A woman master healer,” you breathed in awe to yourself, weaving the flowers into Tobirama’s hair. You couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips. “That is fascinating.” 

“My grandfather used to take me fishing in the northern streams before he passed. He always brought her herbs. Perhaps I could find some of her formulas. You may find them interesting.” 

“Really?” You leaned back on your ankles, admiring the little white flowers that adorned Tobirama’s crown. “I could not ask you to do such a thing.”

“If you are not allowed to learn of medicine and herbs, how else will you pursue being a great apothecary?” You blinked at him in disbelief, taken aback. “That is your dream, is it not? You speak of it often.”

“Do I?” You let out a light laugh, sheepishly averting your gaze. “I apologize. My good friend from home often tells me I speak too much.” Tobirama scoffed.

“Some friend,” he muttered, but his gaze softened as he adjusted the fur over your shoulders. “You do not speak too much. Especially when it concerns things you are passionate about. Therefore—” Tobirama plucked one of the flowers out of his hair and tucked it behind your ear. “Tell me about this flower.” 

You instinctively opened your mouth but quickly closed it when you noticed Tobirama’s expression chance. He held a glint in his eye and the beginning of a smile on his thin lips. He leaned forward, brushing your hand along another patch of little petals.

“I know you know this one,” he said softly before leaning back against the boulder behind him. His bright red eyes met your own. They held softness in them. “Please, I would like to listen.”

You almost laughed, your nervousness almost causing you to forget all your knowledge as his touch left you.

“They call this purity flower. It is incredibly delicate, and they only grow this big.” You stared down to where Tobirama had placed your hand. “You can do quite a few things with them. They are wonderful for sore throats, sanitizing wounds, upset stomachs…”

You brushed through them, and a few flowers crumpled under your fingers.

He would never forget that. The way your face fell as the flowers at the center of the cluster began to shrivel.

***

He was smarter than Hashirama. 

Tobirama wasn’t a traitor to the clan. Tobirama wouldn’t be caught fraternizing with an Uchiha like his foolish brother. He was stern, calculating. He was so careful. 

He had carried his prized Uchiha-killing kunai with him the entire time. 

It was strapped to his leg when he first chased after you. 

It was with him as you adorned him with blossoms. 

He held the same knife he had once held up to your neck as he screamed in your face that he would carve out your eyes the entire time. 

And he had another chance.

It was right in front of him, as you blathered on about the daylight. Your lips moved, but nothing came from your mouth. 

He had another opportunity to redeem himself. 

The moment of his childhood that haunted him for many nights could have been corrected. Tobirama was a true warrior now. He could have killed you. He could have carved out your sharingan, sinking his kunai into your skull as you screamed and kicked under him, just as he promised long ago. No one would hear you out here. 

He could do anything he wanted to you.

But he hesitated again, and now his only weapon was lost.

The time you had been sneaking around had hardly been long; the days in sum dwarfed compared to a year. 

And now he watched you in the morning sun, his heart and head doing a double take as his eyes hurriedly searched for the kunai he had pushed into the river. But it was long gone. 

“It is morning?!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. Startled, Tobirama scurried up with you, stumbling back until one of his feet sank into the rushing water. You lurched forward instinctively to steady him.

“Do not touch me!” he barked, and the gruffness of his voice made you recoil. He faltered, sputtering with a vigorous shake of his head. Tobirama balanced himself as the cold, rushing current pushed at his knee. He looked up at you, staring into your wide, confused eyes. 

Looking upon you in the daylight made him view you in a way he never had before.

Yes, he could see it now. 

He could see the Uchiha in you… and it was ugly.

Every part of him burned. It was as if he had been coated in mud, leaving his skin irritated, itchy and inflamed. He wished he could scrub every inch of himself of you. Slice, scratch, and claw into himself to erase the ghost of your lingering touch. 

Tobirama burned with shame. 

You shifted, moving to speak, when something covered your eyes. You snatched it slowly in confusion, but as the silk ribbon slid from your hair to drape over your fingers, your eyes quickly widened even farther than they already were. Tobirama stood in the water, watching you with a pounding chest as you, too, stumbled back. Your gaze darted from the Uchiha crest to Tobirama, who, for once, did not hold any softness in his expression. 

“Oh.” You held your shaking hand up to your lips. You took another step back. Tobirama didn’t move.

He looked angry, the tension of his clenched jaw just about making the entirety of his body shake. His brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and rage. And all he could do was stare at you with fists balled up in mounting fury. Tobirama’s eyes turned glossy as he held back the burning tears that threatened to spill over his waterline. 

You weren’t thinking, not as you stepped forward and spoke his name.

You wanted to go to him, tell him it was all a misunderstanding. Something. You tried to tell him something, anything.

You stepped forward, and Tobirama planted his second foot in the water.

“Do not come closer, Uchiha!” he spat. His words halted you in your stride. Tobirama stumbled back, splashing in the shallows. His clothes were drenched with dark patches which adorned his legs and sides. He held his hand up, almost as a buffer between him and you. He shook, and droplets fell back into the rushing current of the water. 

His father’s words to his brother repeatedly played in his head. 

Tobirama had been endangering his clan all this time. He had been reckless and naive, just like his brother. He sat as the current rushed by, stuck and frozen like a cornered animal, trying to calculate how many of his kinsmen could have been saved if he had been more sparing with his tongue. 

You spoke in a meek voice,

“Tobirama—”

“Get out of here! Do not dare show your face back here, foul creature; I will kill you!” he screamed with all the weight of his guilt. Tobirama rose to his full height, hulking shoulders squared. You didn’t wait a second longer before you ran. You ran straight into the brush, and in an instant, you were deep into the forest. You could still hear Tobirama shouting behind you. “I will kill you, Uchiha! I will carve out your sharingan! I—”

He choked the moment he lost sight of you.

Tobirama dropped to his knees, splashing again down into the water. He heaved, his throat burning as he threw up into the river's current. Tobirama uttered a strangled cry, mucus dropping from his mouth and nose. Hot tears poured down his face as he gasped into the surface, nearly drowning himself in the water and his own mess. 

You continued to run. You ran through the woods, paying little mind to the scrapes you collected as you rushed back toward the Uchiha colony. Your foot snagged against a fallen branch, causing you to smack face-first into a nearby log. You scrambled to your feet, heart pumping as you continued back home, your breath rasping rhythmically in your ears. Wetness streamed down your face, combining tears, snot, and blood to cake your skin. 

But as you grew closer to your colony, the scent of smoke grew stronger. And as you looked up between the branches, you could see a dark cloud rising into the air. 

The weeping became clearer. Agonized weeping. 

You burst forth from the trees to your family’s garden. 

To where the garden should have been, but the garden was gone.

Your home was gone, and a smoking pile of charcoal was left in its place. 

A few structural beams shot out from the pile of char, like pleading limbs reaching up toward the heavens for a salvation that would never come. The paper walls were gone. The engawa had been reduced to rubble. The engawa that you and Madara stood on just hours before while your parents discussed your union.

…

Your parents.

You shouted for them, rushing straight for the ruins of your home. Large masses of char littered the streets, marking the resting places of other houses just like yours. Your eyes darted about in a frenzy, making eye contact with the mourning Uchiha, who littered the dirt streets for any confirmation that your parents had made it. 

“Where are my parents?” You cried to people who averted their gazes. One woman covered her child’s ears, holding him close to her chest. “Have you seen my parents? Please! Someone! Did they make it? Will you not answer me?” 

But no one answered you. 

There was just weeping.

You didn’t see their faces or those of your family. 

You raced toward the rubble, rifling through the mess with tears blurring your vision. You were howling something, letting words spill and tumble from your lips with the same liquidity as the water pouring from your face. Your fingers began to sting. Debris cut your skin, forming abrasions that filled with soot and dirt as you clawed at what used to be your home. 

A muscular arm looped under your torso. You kicked your legs as you continued to wail, pounding your fists at the back of red armor. You could only watch as you were slowly carried away from the wreckage of your home, the reminisce of other ruined buildings gathering into your blurry view with every step. 

You went limp about halfway down the road, hanging upside down with your cheek smushed against a bloody backplate. You cried, the compilation of mucus stuck in your nose, causing your sinuses to burn. You coughed, fist pounding a last time against armor before you were dropped back to the ground. 

Your knees gave out under you, and before you stood Madara. 

Tall, hulking, and imposing Madara with a somber expression on his face and a gaping wound on his side. He still held you by the hand, your fingers just barely hooked on his. His feet were stained with blood and caked with dirt, and sitting in the disturbed dirt road sat vials of herbs and a collection of your supplies from the apothecary. 

Only then did you notice what he was surveying behind you, letting your hand drop from his.

Bodies of the injured were splayed out on salvaged blankets in the middle of the street. The able-bodied scurried around with what little medical supplies could be salvaged from the remains of your village, tending to warriors, women, children, and elders alike. Your head snapped back toward Madara.

“You must make medicine,” Madara said in a voice barely above a whisper, although it was by no means gentle. He held a gruffness in his voice. Frustration laced his tone. You heaved yourself up, something about being on the ground making you feel more vulnerable than you already felt in your confusion.

“Madara, I—”

“What?” Madara snapped, jerking forward at you. You recoiled, lips closing instantly. “What now, woman? Can you not see the crisis laid out in front of you? You have received exactly what you wanted and yet remain stubborn even when a man is giving you direct instructions.” You were still dazed.

“Where is Makihara?”

It wasn’t hard for Madara to wrestle you back to the ground. Your head slammed against the dirt, the vials of herbs and medicine sideways in your vision. Madara’s lips touched your ear as he spoke venom directly into your skull. His words sent a submissive chill directly into your heart.

“For the sake of the gods, make the goddam medicine and cease your difficulty. Your clan head bids it.” He released your head, which was engulfed in his wide-handed grip. You stared dizzily at his back as he walked away, his form wavering in your vision.

“Clan… head?”

***

Madara was officially deemed the head of the Uchiha clan later that night, bare except for his loin cloth as his body was painted with sacred symbols. He sat like a king on the ruins of the Uchiha village, looking pensive and severe.

The ceremony was intimate, traditional, and without frills.

Somber.

What was left of the village wasn’t made to attend, but most showed their faces in the torchlight, gazing upon their new leader as Madara was adorned with red and white paint. The population of Uchiha gathered around him, squishing together to watch the decoration of their new leader. 

Madara sat amongst the ruins of what used to be your colony, looking solemn in the warm glow of the flames around him. He stared ahead. A surviving elder smeared two lines of red paint under Madara’s eyes with shaky fingers. Bandages covered the elder’s eye, wrapping all the way around his head. Another elder brushed his frail hands over Madara’s cheeks with white before anointing his forehead with his thumb. 

You had made that paint. You admired it from the back of the crowd. 

A few children had been sent to gather pigmented clay while you exhausted the rest of your herbal supply on medicinal remedies. Even with what you made stretch, you barely had enough to treat all the wounded. Burying the dead had taken all day. 

Madara stood in front of all the Uchiha, bare-chested and painted in holy symbols as the clan revered him. He barked, the deep, powerful sound resounding from his chest. His colored abs flexed with the call, and the Uchiha chanted back, filling the surrounding forest with spirited howling. 

He stood as the new leader of the Uchiha clan, yet the colors that adorned him were yours, as were the herbs that decorated his wound.

***

Your parents were dead.

It was a fact that you recalled often during the mindless time you spent crushing herbs, beseeching the weight of it to sink in. But instead, you were met with numbness, even as the mourners around you grieved their lost loved ones. 

You sat under your makeshift canopy on a rug of simple woven threads. The three sides of your new apothecary were draped with fabric, acting as a buffer to the light night breeze. And there you thought, pulverizing medicine with your pestle to replenish your depleted medicinal supply. As the clan’s only apothecary, you could no longer collect herbs. In a strike of irony, this in turn meant that you were too important and no longer allowed to leave the Uchiha’s new territory.

You hadn’t noticed Madara’s presence. Only when the torchlight from outside no longer filtered into your tent did you think to even blink. He stood over you, harsh shadows cast across his face from the lone lamp that lit up your workspace. Madara’s colors had faded from his skin, but the stain from the dye remained as the faintest of hues.

You could just barely see the holy symbols.

“Does the new location please you?” 

You stopped, the moment of distraction allowing the ache in your hands to set in. You nearly dropped your pestle, recoiling slightly as the tension froze your fingers. You had been working since daybreak.

“I cannot say I have been able to see much of it, Madara.”

“Come, then.” 

To your surprise, Madara extended his hand to you. You looked upon him with exhaustion, almost to ask if he genuinely meant what he spoke. He waited patiently for you to place your hand in his before whisking you into the surrounding woods. 

***

The Uchiha had retreated farther inland, upstream to the higher ground by the mountains. The trees were large in these parts, far larger than you were used to. They extended twice the height compared to the ones in your previous territory, towering large fans of leaves up toward the starry night sky. Even the vast constellations appeared brighter in these new parts. 

Madara walked a step or two in front as you strolled across the rocky terrain. You panted as you struggled up a steep incline. Madara hadn’t bothered to help you, instead moving along onto the level above. Small stones that littered the surface of the earth slid under your sandals.

“I am—” you huffed —“I am not as agile as I used to be.” 

Madara laughed somewhere above.

“You are in your prime. What is this talk of agility?” 

You pulled yourself up onto the dirt with the help of an exposed root. You fanned yourself, wiping the sweat off your brow as Madara chuckled somewhere in front of you.

“I meant that I no longer climb trees every day, Madara. Perhaps that is something you do, oh great clan head, but not I.” 

You turned to stand, suddenly struck by the view before you. Madara stood just ahead, holding up a branch with his forearm to expose the landscape. You hurried over, framing yourself in the window of leaves that Madara created. From up so high, you could see how the trees covered the land for miles, bisected by one of the Land of Fire’s many rivers in the distance. 

“Are you able to say if the new land pleases you?” You caught Madara’s eye for a split second, quickly averting your gaze at the sight of his sentimental expression, your aloneness suddenly growing palpable. You nodded.

“Moving the clan here was clever. Having the high ground and access to fresh water will only serve to be prosperous.” You offered him a gentle smile and a nod, glancing back at the scenery. “I know you will make a great clan head, Madara.”

“We will see about that,” Madara admitted in a rare moment of self-doubt. The confession made your forehead crinkle instantly. You cocked your head, taken aback. Madara sighed, almost as if reading your thoughts before you spoke them. “The elders— the remaining elders— believe that I am still quite young to be taking up the mantle. They still hold power when it comes to making decisions on behalf of the clan. At least, until they deem I have grown into my title as clan head.”

“Why make you leader at all if they are going to make such fuss?” you scoffed, knowing very well the answer. 

You sat down at the cliff's edge, watching the moon in the distance, and Madara came to sit next to you. He shifted, having more difficulty getting situated than you. The branch he had been holding up came down to smack him on the back of the head. 

“I have had similar thoughts.” Madara looked off with a troubled frown. “I worry for the future of the Uchiha. Our numbers dwindle with every battle. And with this last raid, the women will be forced to join the militia.” 

“Is this true?” you nearly exclaimed. You withdrew into yourself, brushing a finger across your bottom lip. The news rattled around in your ribcage. “How unorthodox!” 

Madara sneered, and it hardly took his admission of “I am against such things” for you 

to understand his stance on the matter. You let him grumble to himself, once again lost in a daze, as you took some of the dry dirt below between your fingers. 

“Madara,” you called softly, and he perked up with a hum. Between the chaos of the last few days, you were hardly allowed to give anything proper thought. Of all the terrible things to sink in, you only had one worry on your mind. “Do you believe I might be sent to fight the Senju?”

You stared into Madara’s eyes. Tobirama’s fearsome expression flashed across your mind as you recalled his promises to take your life. They made you shiver. 

“I would think not, given that you are acting as the lone apothecary of the Uchiha,” Madara answered, his voice deep and soft. “Besides, I forbid it.”

You didn’t know what to say as you let the bit of relief Madara’s words brought you to wash over your thoughts. Whether you intended it or not, you had made yourself invaluable to your clan. They weren’t about to put you on the front lines anytime soon. 

Madara spoke your name.

“Do you like it?” he asked. You weren’t paying attention again. You blinked to yourself, his deep voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Do I like what?”

“The new land, does it please you?”

“It is… not home,” you admitted. “But the landscape does please me, yes. I am certain it will be home soon enough.” Madara closed the space between you before gingerly placing two fingers under your chin. He turned your face toward him.

“I am clan head now.”

“Yes, Madara, I am aware.” You tried to subtly turn your chin away, but he held firm, boring into you with vigilant eyes. Nocturnal insects chattered in the forest behind you.

“No other bachelor in the Uchiha can provide better than I.” You had no other choice than to meet his dark gaze. He spoke to you earnestly. “Will you not reconsider marrying me?” A frown tugged at his lips. Worry swirled on his face.

“We are far too young, Madara.” You took his hand, gently removing it from your skin. You folded in on yourself, backing away from the edge as you bashfully gripped the fronts of your robes to dry your sweaty hands. Madara pivoted, leaning back to keep you in his sights, the moon’s slow, enshrining him in a silver silhouette. You curled into the earth. “Besides… too much has happened for us to think about such things.”

You could feel it: the urge to fight you on the tip of Madara’s tongue. Indeed, other Uchiha have married at your age and younger. Sometimes, young girls would be considered ready for marriage after their first menstrual cycle. But to your surprise, he didn’t fight you at all. Instead, he came to sit next to you. 

Madara could’ve fought you on several things. He hadn’t yet forgotten the mystery beau he was convinced was keeping your affections from him, nor was he thrilled that you had been named as the clan’s sole apothecary through a simple process of elimination.

You hadn’t forgotten his attempts to strongarm you into marriage or the terrifying outburst that caused you to run away. Although, with your parents gone, you were placed supremely in charge of your fate. Try as he must, not even Madara could force you into marriage. 

But when it came down to it, with your family dead and your lover disgusted by your bloodline, you were left again with Madara. That had been how it always was. Having lost so much during the clan conflict, you were always left with each other, weren’t you?

As you began to weep, Madara scooted backward to be with you. You leaned against him, placing your head on his shoulder as you continued to cry, holding his arm to bury your face into the sleeve of his robes—dark, round spots soaked into the fabric.

Madara held you in the dimness as the surrounding clearing filled with your sobs. It had been the first time you were allowed to cry. The first time you truly had to confront the regret that haunted you from the few days prior. For his capriciousness and overall little patience for sentiment, Madara nurtured your vulnerability. 

His fingers trailed lightly over your hair, rounding up stray strands behind your ear. He pressed his temple against the top of your head, caressing down your jaw to clear away the tears that slid down your cheeks with his thumb. Madara lifted your face, his second hand cupping the other side of your face as he continued to swipe away the wetness from your face. 

You held his wrists in your ginger grip, as he laid a tender kiss on your forehead. He gazed into your teary eyes in the moonlight, casting away another stream of tears as he offered a gentle kiss to your right cheek, and then your left. 

His nose nudged against yours, staring into your glassy eyes. You let them flutter shut, causing more droplets to splash against your face. Madara placed his lips on yours, holding the sides of your face as he kissed you with earnest. 

You kissed him back for a moment, only for a moment. The shape of his face was different than Tobirama in a way you couldn’t quite place your finger on. He had rounder cheeks. A longer bridge to his nose. Madara’s hair draped over his shoulders to tickle your skin.

You pulled away, just the slightest distance between your face and Madara’s before he leaned in again. You pushed against his chest, but his movements this time were more forceful. He held you firmly in his grip, his fingers pinching against your cheeks as he lowered himself on top of you, pinning you against the earth and his larger body. 

Your eyes went wide, the entirety of your body going frozen as Madara moved against yours, his once gentle motions now a gnashing of lips and teeth that made you press your head into the dirt. You tried to gasp his name in protest, but your words were muffled. His forearm rested to the right of your head, his breath hot against your skin as he smored your airways. His fingers tugged awkwardly at your hair, causing you to wince as he pulled the strands. You pushed on his chest again, kicking your legs under him, but Madara lowered more of his weight on top of you. 

A line of saliva connected the two of you when he finally ceased his assault on your lips. He gazed upon you with lidded eyes before he continued, tucking his head in the crook of your neck. You screamed as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, tears pouring from your wide eyes as you stared up at the pitch black night sky. Madara’s hand swiftly came over your mouth, to muffle the shrieks that tore from your throat.

You flailed violently, limbs lashing in adrenaline-fueled terror to no avail as Madara kept you pinned to the earth with his larger, heavier frame. And then you felt a hand dip into your robes, tugged the top material from your shoulders to grope at your chest. You cried harder, squealing like a pig at the slaughter as you finally managed to squirm an arm free.

You thrashed it around in a flurry of scratches and strikes. Your hand snagged on Madara’s face as you tried to scoot out from underneath him, causing him to shoot backward. Blood dripped from his nose, forming a nasty pool of red in tandem with the jagged gash that sliced diagonally across his upper lip. 

He looked at you in confusion and anger; blood streaked across his fingers. You scrambled to your feet, darting down the mountain and back to the new colony. 

You would never speak of that night again.

Madara dropped all speak of marriage.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Lots of fun author’s notes: I hated the pacing of this fic. It used to have really low notes in the early days so I think I got a little sloppy with it, and now it’s exploded out of nowhere! I hope this “retcon” fixes some of the plotholes!

I would like to think the teen years were made purposefully vague and dreamy so that the transition to the dark content is more impactful. Yes, yes we’ll say that!

I don’t always imagine what Reader looks like in my stories (I usually don’t) but this one I do! I usually picture Lupita Nyong'o. Not sure if that adds or takes away for any of you. Who I picture ultimately doesn’t matter

I’d also like to think the whole scene where Tobirama scares Reader off is like any movie where a protagonist has to scare off a loyal dog. Like, “Go on, boy! Git! You’re not welcome here! Git!” while like throwing rocks or something.

Also a reminder that I am not a smut author, so please withhold any thirst comments or requests. Thank you. 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake​

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter nine: what if we could risk everything we have | read chapter eight

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.2k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The next morning, you find Tim in your kitchen.

You emerge from the bathroom, having already guessed he was here by the smell of food cooking and from the sound of your TV playing the morning news. Well, late morning news. 

Things settled around the city eventually in the wake of the news about Red Robin. Well, as settled as they can be here in Gotham. But you don’t suspect the Bats are spread too thin. They have, like, a team working here. Batman and Robin, of course, then Black Bat and Signal and Spoiler who doesn’t wear the bat emblem, exactly, but is seen with them frequently enough to be associated with them. This is on top of the few others who also work in the city, like Huntress. So, it’s not like there’s a shortage of vigilantes to go around. 

But the news on the TV is talking about the weather for today, not that. 

“Keep your sunscreen on standby as we have yet another sunny day here in Gotham, with partly-cloudy skies and highs in the eighties. We can expect higher temperatures throughout the week as a heat wave from the south hits us —”

You stop by the boys’ tank, privately pleased to see them having just finished their breakfast, no doubt courtesy of your unexpected guest. 

You glance away from them, to the kitchen, where Tim is currently making eggs, with something else on the counter next to him. Wait, is that a…

“I’m not complaining but… where on earth did that waffle maker come from?”

Tim turns, appearing not at all surprised by your appearance — he’s never spooked, not once, but he does it to you frequently — and shoots you a smile. “Hey, good morning.”

“Morning,” you say, drifting closer to him. You’re both dressed down, with him in sweats and a white t-shirt, and you would bet a decent amount of money that he rolled out of bed, half-heartedly fixed his hair, brushed his teeth, and came down here immediately. You did the same, still in your pajamas, which are a pair of old shorts and a ratty softball shirt from high school. 

It’s not the first time he’s done this but like always, it is terribly domestic and not at all good for your heart.

“So… the waffle maker?” you ask, trying to sneak a piece of buttered toast. 

He gently bats your hand away, looking back at the pan, where eggs sizzle. “You said you like the efficiency of waffles.”

You blink. 

That’s… a lot to unpack.

First of all, when did you say that? 

You pause, searching your memory.

Your prolonged silence clues Tim into your confusion. He flips the egg. 

“When we were at Waffle House in April and the cook and waitress got into a fight.”

“Oh! And the waitress —”

“Stopped the chair thrown at her single-handedly,” he finishes.

“Right, right…” You did say something to that effect after your food had arrived. And it remains true. But of course, waffles are only efficient if you have a waffle maker and —

“Tim, you didn’t get this for me, right?”

“I just thought waffles would be fun,” he says, vague, specifically a non-answer. 

You scrutinize his side profile. Something about him right now… With a spatula in his left hand, his right hand drumming on his thigh. It’s not like him to give up a nervous tell so easily. Not like him at all. 

Your curiosity is unbidden and difficult to suppress, but you decide to step back anyway and let him come to you in his own time. He’ll have to, if the waffle maker really is for you. 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you say, brushing a hand over his shoulder. “Now we’ll just have to see if you can beat Waffle House.”

“Probably can’t. My waffles are being made peacefully. Mostly peacefully.”

You laugh and help him finish. Mostly by pulling out the waffle, then pouring batter for the next one, the one for him.

Garnished with homemade whipped cream, the leftover strawberries from yesterday, and maple syrup, with a side of eggs and toast, your breakfast is a hearty one. Or rather, your brunch is, since it’s eleven. 

He’s quiet throughout it, eating his food, but with a distant look in his eyes. You still don’t push. 

“I think you did it,” you say when you finish, leaning back in your chair, belly full, making you want a nap. “You managed to beat Waffle House.”

Tim snorts, pushing around the last bits of his waffle. “High praise.”

“Only for you.”

He looks at you, seeming to come back to himself, face softening at your words and at the warm smile you allow yourself to give him. Not too much but enough, enough to soothe some of his nerves, maybe.

You know it’s worked when he glances down at his plate and sighs. 

Setting down the fork, he stands, crossing over to the living room, leaning down to dig through his bag. 

You sit up, curious, at the sound of paper. 

He unearths a newspaper, coming back over to you hesitantly, with the newspaper held folded in his hands. 

“Tim?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, grimacing at something. 

With a big sigh, he eventually extends it to you. 

You unfold the paper and can’t help the way your eyes widen as you get an eyeful of the front page.

The front page, with a picture of you and Tim smack dab in the middle, specifically… specifically yesterday in front of the ice cream parlor, the two of you smiling at each other in a way that appears a little less than friendly. So, naturally, the headline is about exactly that. TIM DRAKE AND MYSTERY GIRLFRIEND OUT ON THE TOWN. Written by Vicki Vale. Of course. You expect nothing less. 

You scratch your cheek idly. “Huh.”

“I’m really sorry,” he says, the words seeming to burst out of him as he takes his seat again, face wrought with guilt. “I should’ve known they were there. I was careless. Should’ve had the cap or something, I don’t know, but I… I got cocky about it, since we’d gotten away with hanging out in public. The PR team is handling it, I swear.”

Handling it. Setting the record straight. You are not Tim Drake’s girlfriend. What a laughable concept. Well, you’re sure the elites are laughing. Probably the whole city. 

Your throat tightens uncomfortably and you fold the newspaper and set it down, shaking your head.

Man. What does he have to apologize for? If anything…

“I should apologize,” you chuckle, glancing away from him. “Since you got stuck with me for that. So, don’t worry about it, Timmy. You’re fine.”

Not much about you that is interesting, save for being friends with Tim. Poor Vicki Vale won’t have much to work with, you suspect. Though that will probably be the focus. That you’re just a no-name teacher’s aide, associating with one of the city’s most eligible. 

Whatever. You don’t want to be anyone else. 

That, you know, is true.

But Tim appears upset, bothered, by something, lips tugged in a frown, a deep wrinkle between his brows that you itch to smooth away with your fingers. The way he looks at you… almost like he’s hurt.

You shift forward. Why is he —?

Before you can ask, he is already speaking.

“The waffle maker is yours,” he says. “I don’t need it and if I do, I can come and use it here. I don’t mind. But… you’re wrong.”

Okay. That’s… a lot. The waffle maker doesn’t need to be prioritized, though, you don’t think. So…

“Wrong? What do you —?”

His eyes flicker around the kitchen, thinking quickly, before he huffs and leans around the table to take your chair and drag it closer to his. You let out a squeak at the jostling movement but don’t stop him, confused for the most part about what’s going on. 

“Tim?”

He shakes his head, reaching for you, hands sliding to your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat, heart lurching in your chest.

“Tim?”

“Stuck with you,” he mutters, disapproval clear in his tone. “With you. That’s… wrong. So wrong it’s not even funny. If anyone is stuck with anyone, it’s me you’re stuck with.”

Wait, is he…

Your heart thuds in your ears, chest ballooning with nervous energy as you struggle to grapple with this conversation. With the way he is looking at you, his expression the softest it has ever been — for you. Directed at you. 

Heat rises to your face, making you dizzy. 

A thumb absently strokes over your cheek as he studies you. “There is no one else I’d rather it be. Even if it’s inconvenient for you, I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want anyone else. I just want…”

“Tim,” you whisper, unable to believe your ears.

“You,” he finishes quietly. “It’s you. I’m sorry.”

You both are wrong, then. 

No one is stuck with anyone. 

And you aren’t going to let him think that way, either.

“I’m not,” you say. “So, kiss me already.”

Tim kisses you.

He kisses you hungrily, a shade too desperate for eleven in the morning, in a way that sparks a fire inside you. But not a spark of creation, it’s the kindling of embers that are always burning, singeing through your veins, and you can’t help but kiss him back just as eagerly. It’d only been yesterday you wanted it desperately and now you have it and more.

The truth, reality forced upon you, for you to bear witness to how soft his lips are, the way he holds your face so gently, how he tastes like strawberries and maple syrup and the wish for more, more than that, takes hold of you violently. You press forward, your fingers sliding into his hair, silky-soft, and he lets out a sharp exhale, shivering in a way that makes you feel something dangerous. 

Astounding how you can have this and still want more.

But you’re starting to think you’ll always want more from him. More, more, more. Like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you two were one, cells and atoms intermingling. It’s a lot. A lot. For you and for him, the enormity of all of it, of what you might ask of him. From him. More than he can give, maybe, but if he feels the same as you do, then you know he’ll give you as much as he can, give everything. 

The necessity of air has you two breaking apart, but he just leans his forehead against yours, warm breath tickling your lips with each breath. 

You’re happy to stay there, eyes closed, catching your breath.

After a minute, he leans forward, lips brushing yours again, but softer this time, less hungry, less desperate, something terribly, terribly tender that has your chest exploding with warmth. You almost can’t believe it, that you’re here right now with Tim Drake cradling your face like you’re made of fine china and kissing you so sweetly, so full of honeyed affection, it clogs the arteries of your heart.

But it would be a good way to die, you think.

Especially here in Gotham.

Maybe you should give it some credit, though. 

Tragedy dogs the city constantly but even still, the impossible remains possible and you are all the more grateful for that fact.

You separate again and like before, you just lean your foreheads together, basking in the moment. 

Tim moves first and you suppress a shiver as his lips brush over your cheek.

“I guess we’re both wrong,” he murmurs.

Ah.

Neither of you can say you don’t deserve one another. Even if you feel it, he disagrees. And if he feels it, you disagree, too. And where else should you go with that?

Nowhere good, you think.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” he starts, finally pulling away. Your eyes flutter open and your stomach swoops like you missed a step as you see the open affection in his gaze, written all over his face. It makes you feel treasured in a way you can’t quite cope with. Instead you focus on the flush on his cheeks, a tempting rush of blood that makes you want to kiss him again and see how warm the skin feels underneath your lips. 

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s a little backwards,” he goes on, thumb stroking your cheek, the other dropping to the side of your neck. Your hands find themselves on his forearms, muscles and tendons flexing beneath your fingertips. “But I wasn’t anticipating that.”

You nod. “Neither was I.”

Though you should’ve known your luck would run out eventually.

“I guess it doesn’t matter much now, anyway,” he says, then pauses, nervous, bashful energy filling him again. “Unless — I mean, I would like to take you out on an official date but, uh, I get it if that’s maybe too soon to really say —”

“Tim.”

He stops. You smile and it feels horribly honest, full of affection and warmth and with everything else not yet spoken. He softens, but the red in his cheeks darkens again. It pleases you too much.

“If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with letting the press think we’re together,” you say, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. “Even if I wasn’t certain, it would probably be best to let them keep the rumor, rather than try and say we’re friends. But as it is…” 

As it is, you’ve since realized these feelings aren’t going anywhere and knowing that he reciprocates, that, maybe, he’s felt it for a while, too, it makes you hopeful. This isn’t just something fun to do over the summer, this is you seeing him in your kitchen in the mornings, still in pajamas, and thinking you’d like to always see him like this. This is from a few weeks ago, when you two slept together on the couch and it was the best sleep you’ve ever had and waking up with him still here, still a little sleepy and bleary-eyed, it made you think you wouldn’t mind having this for a really long time. 

For forever, you dare to think. 

“I know,” he says, and you think he really does know. 

He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, touch gentle. 

“So, then, in that case,” he starts, smile warm as he says your name, the syllables that wrap it equally as warm, “will you go out with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you say, then lean forward to kiss him again.

You aren’t going to get tired of doing that anytime soon.

And by the way he kisses you back eagerly, you know he’s thinking the same.

You both agree to have your date on Friday night. 

But until then, neither of you see any point in changing anything. 

You’ll still drop by after school or he’ll come over. You’ll still watch movies together.

Nothing changes. The core of your routines remain the same.

Well, except for the fact that you two can’t really keep your hands off each other and the entire city now knows you two are dating.

Monday morning, you showed up in class at eight as usual, finding Ms. C. She said nothing much about it, other than, You’re lucky it’s the last week of school. Everyone is going to be unbearable.

Not trying to make you feel bad. A simple fact. A warning, even, and it turned out to be true. The amount of teachers and aides that dropped by the class to talk to you — even if you’d never once spoken to them — was ridiculous. 

Most of the kids were giggly about it. A few jokes. A little grossed out. You get that, though. They’re kids. Don’t know any better.

But for your colleagues and the odd parent that manages to corner you? It’s a bit ridiculous the way some of them look down their noses at the thought of you dating him.

Well, Mrs. Hightower who teaches eighth grade science, you’re married and also not in a better position. Like, okay, you… sort of get the icy mothers (and occasional father) who sniff at the thought with their designer clothes and yachts and vacation homes in Monaco; they have money, so they think they are better suited for him. (When that honestly has nothing to do with it, but you’re trying to make a point, so, you know.) But for your fellow aides and teachers? All of you are in the exact same boat. 

The life of a more of less public figure is a tricky one. 

And honestly, Tim isn’t even as famous as he could be. Imagine what it must be like for Bruce. 

Yikes.

Every gossip page in Gotham digs their grubby little fingers into your past. 

Naturally, they don’t get much.

Moved here at eighteen for college. Majored in education and minored in psychology. Graduated with honors (that’s probably the only exciting thing for them). Worked at Gotham Elementary in Burnley, then moved to Gotham Pointe. 

That’s it. 

But when they fail to find dirt, the conversation naturally turns to how you aren’t suited for him, how he should be dating the heiress to a massive company rather than some nobody teacher’s aide. 

You try not to let it bother you.

Tim works hard to assure you that he doesn’t care about that. That he never has and never will. You believe him, but with it shoved into your face at every given moment, you think you’re allowed the occasional moment of insecurity.

On Thursday, though, you’re in high spirits. The kids have let the issue go, focusing on some other thing that’s gotten their attention and today is probably the first day that only a few people try to talk to you about everything, allowing you to focus on doing your job. For the most part.

Tim told you to come by his place after school, that way you two could make dinner and spend the evening together. After showering and changing, you catch the elevator to head to the fifteenth floor. 

The doors slide open. You step out, your eyes on your phone, reading a text from your brother, who, alongside your parents, remain a little flabbergasted that you wound up in a relationship with Tim Drake. Though your brother claims he ‘saw it coming.’ Like hell he did. All he ever did was try and convince you to send him Tim’s debit card info. 

The sound of your name.

You blink and look up, meeting the wide, bright blue eyes of a pretty blonde.

Wait, you’ve seen her face before —

“Steph — I mean, um, Stephanie Brown, right?”

One of Tim’s good friends and an old ex-girlfriend. He said they dated when they were teens but broke up and are still good friends. 

She grins, stepping back out of the elevator, apparently having been waiting to take it back down. 

“In the flesh. I’m a little surprised you recognize me but it’s great to finally meet Tim’s mystery girlfriend.” The last part is a tease from the newspaper from last weekend.

You laugh. “Tim has pictures of you and the others around his place. That’s how I knew. And it’s nice to meet you, too.” 

“I was popping in to see about it,” she tells you, not minding the elevator doors that slide shut once more. “Wondering when he’d finally bring you around. He doesn’t like to share.”

You grin, cheeks warming. Her energy is infectious. You can see what might’ve drawn him to her. “It’s my last week of school and we have our date tomorrow. So, probably after the first date. The whole press reveal thing kinda threw a wrench in our plans.”

She grins back. “Well, the way he tells it, that was the thing that kicked your butts into gear, so I guess that’s how it has to go.”

“That… Yeah, that is true,” you say with an embarrassed laugh.

“Aw, it’s okay. It would’ve happened eventually. Tim’s just the type to really, uh, collect evidence and draw up conclusions before he likes to do anything.”

You laugh, because he is like that. 

“Either way,” she says, smiling. “At least you got me out of the way. Meeting all of us can be… a lot.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She snickers. “Guess we’ll see you sometime soon. Maybe around his birthday. Bruce’ll want to have dinner or something with him at the manor and I can join them just so you have another familiar face.”

“That would be great. Really. I appreciate it.”

“You really are as kind as he says,” she says, pouting a little. “Now I’m jealous.”

You laugh, flushing at the compliment — both at what he apparently told her and the fact that she agrees with it so much to the point that she’s jealous. Even if it’s just a tease. But honestly, the way her blue eyes twinkle, you don’t think it is. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, hiking her bag higher over her shoulder. “This homework is calling me to kick its ass.”

Right. Tim told you she was in the grad program for social work at GU. She must be taking summer classes. 

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. You kids don’t do anything crazy, alright?” she says, pointing mock sternly at you as she presses the button for the elevator again. 

You snort. “We’ll do our best.”

She gives you a melodramatic thumbs-up of approval, then steps into the elevator when the doors open. 

The smile on your lips is hard to budge. Steph’s a whole lot of fun, isn’t she? And meeting her now did help some of those budding nerves that rear their head every time you think of the prospect of meeting his family.

But like she said. That might not be until July. Mid to late July, really, since his birthday is on the nineteenth. Speaking of, you need to get back to the rec center to continue working on his gift… Maybe you can do that sometime next week…

Coming up to his door a second later, you unlock it and step inside. 

“Honey, I’m home!” you call out in a sing-song tone, slipping off your slides and locking the door behind you. 

Tim steps out from the kitchen, an expectant look on his face. “You saw Steph on your way here, didn’t you?”

You grin. “Sure did! She’s fun.”

“I wasn’t expecting her today. She wanted to ambush me about you, I think.”

“See when you’ll bring me around? Yeah, she said the same to me.”

He rolls his eyes, exasperated but still fond. “We haven’t even had our first official date. Honestly. They’re all a bunch of gossips, you know? I’m surprised it was just her that ended up coming. I was expecting Cass and Duke, too. Maybe even Alfred. Though he’d come with a much better excuse than ‘I was just on this side of town.’”

You laugh and he shakes his head, extending a hand that you take, not resisting as he ropes you into his embrace. 

“In any case,” he starts, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you sink into the circle of his arms, “how was your day?”

“S’okay. The kids were good.”

“And the teachers?”

You grin into the collar of his t-shirt. “Mostly behaved. They’ve finally grasped some semblance of self-restraint, so, wasn’t too bad.”

He hums, one hand stroking up your back, the other at your hip. You’ve always known Tim was particularly tactile but since everything between you, it’s been turned up a notch. Not that you are complaining. You’re less touch-starved these days, just because of him, but you’ll hardly say no to more of it. 

“How was yours?”

Another hum as he presses his face to your hair. 

“Fine. Lucius asked me to help with some IT stuff and I did that today. Easy work. Cleaned a bit. I sterilized those shells I got for the boys, by the way, and put them in the tank. Don’t know if you saw. Then I saw Steph, as you know. Just started dinner right now.”

“Look at you. All the best qualities of a housewife.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey.”

You giggle, though your face warms at the endearment, and he can tell by being so close to you, chuckling softly as he leans down to finally kiss you. 

You press closer, sliding your arms around his neck while his lock around your waist. The full press of his lean body against yours makes your head spin. Stupid Tim and his stupid muscles…

You’re posturing, of course.

You’re… happy. Glowing with it, according to one of the kinder parents who ran into you at school. You believe it, mostly because some part of you doesn’t believe this is actually happening. That Tim kissed you breathless on Sunday and told you he wanted you. The other part of you basks in the thought, in the realization, in the fact that you get to come home to this. 

You’re so, so lucky. 

Nothing can beat it.

Absolutely nothing.  

━ end notes

1. dc editorial’s worst decision was having steph start wearing the bat symbol. leave her OUT OF IT! let spoiler stand on her own! it’s not like bruce ever approved of her.. or tim for that matter… they did her so dirty… ANYWAY

2. all waffle houses are conduits of gotham energy. thats why they’re Like That. food’s absolutely SCRUMPTIOUS tho

3. pleased to report it is canon that tim uses pet names. that tim is, in general, pretty soft with his s/os. here’s a soft moment with him and steph from robin (1993): page 1 / page 2 (read them consecutively in that order!). then another one with tim being very sweet... and finally, the page where he calls her ‘sweetie’ (and she calls him that too!).

in general, i am not too fond of sweetie as a pet name. however, i am very much appreciative of honey. it has a good balance of domesticity and affection, you know? i wouldn’t be adverse to sweetheart either. or baby. so ;)

4. on that note i continue to push my housewife/houseboyfriend(husband?) tim agenda. thank you.

anyway... about time wasn't it ;)))) we have a little ways to go before the end but i promise it's nothing too extreme. i never really wanted to make their confession a Massive Angsty thing. i mean there is stuff to deal with, particularly what tim said and reader slightly misinterpreting it (because he is apologizing for it being him but also because of what he does that she still does not know about). and no worries, we will deal with that. but ultimately, it won't be made into a Big Thing. this fic isn't really centered around that - i want it to be comforting, you know? but we still have to handle the hangups that come with being a civilian and dating a vigilante LOL

reblogs are appreciated!

[p1aid-scarvs]

LAST ARC OF THE YEAR RAMBLES

okay this is RAMBLES rambles aka your average school essay so erm lets go!!!!!

Section 1 ✨last arc of the year✨

from what i've gleaned so far from the 30 seconds i can see on patreon *sobs in poor* the last arc is called 'battle for planet x' and im guessing the moons and planets (probably the rockies + neptune + maybe saturn) are gonna team up to somehow reinstate jupiter in the system.

theres almost definitely gonna be a confrontation between planet x and jupiter, and maybe saturn. there are multiple ways this would pan out so here are a bunch of possibilities:

1) planet x forgives jupiter after realising how important he is and backs down, either a) returning to his second orbit outside the kuiper belt, b) going to a new orbit closer to the system or c) leaving the system altogether to go join a new one or be rogue 2) planet x doesnt gaf and proceeds to beat the shit out of jupiter (and maybe the other planets asw) until a) the sun intervenes and probably kicks him out or b) rules the solar system, although this is pretty unlikely

3) option 2, but jupiter (and maybe saturn, neptune and the rocky planets & moons) smack his blueberry looking ahh outta there instead, either a) diplomatically b) crazy asteroid fight c) diplomatically, but yelling

4) a compromise where both planet x and jupiter get to be part of the system, though probably not because of the one and only gravity (curse you issac newton!!! /j)

or maybe 5) jupiter won't come back at all and planet x's manipulation tactics end up working, uranus becomes caelus (booo!!! hes iconic planet x do NOT steal that diva away from me) & essentially planet x's puppet.

obviously there's a lot of other different plot deviations possible but these are like the ones i can skim off the top of my head so im gonna refer to any other possibility as option x. because x unknown mysterious omg ahahhahha im so funny

if planet x doesn't pull a crazy plot twist and the most probable, humane and kid-friendly option (1) happens all the planets are almost definitely going to swear to NOT make any more your anus jokes because that's what planet x uses to manipulate uranus, his insecurities.

(gonna pull a side quest here and argue that uranus should've had a much more cold and stoic personality because coldest planet buuuut i'll make a rant later, not now)

however if solarballs wants to un generic itself and pulls an option 2, 3, 4 or no option at all then idfk man probably the same scenario with uranus if planet x does genuinely GET OUT!!! of here

anyways heres list of all the probabilities based on its likeliness because i am bored (most likely to least, left to right top to bottom be grateful i'm not torturing your fingers with the amount of scrolling you're doing) 1a, 2a, 3c, 3a, 1c, 1b, 3b, 4, x, 5, 2b

my personal favorite is option 3b because we haven't had any good fights in a long time live laugh moon revolution lol

Section 2: THEIA

okay so i absolutely fucking love theia and one of the first arcs of 2025 are DEFINITELY gonna be the long-awaited THEIA ARC!!!

based on jupiter's guilty ass interactions when talking about theia we can assume that he IS in fact guilty for theia and earth colliding. i searched to make sure, and yep:

source: wikipedia

venus being on the list of potential murderer surprised me ngl but it would tie into their personality

anyways here's a theory: mars knows. venus probably suppressed the memory because that's what some people do but mars probably experienced flashbacks of theia's collision with earth when jupiter admitted to brutally massacring the early rocky planets.

this is all speculative because i dont have patreon and cant see the post detailing solarballs' 2025 plans so

thats all i think

bye bye time to figure out how to get earth plushie for christmas

[strongsassysexysloane]

What You Deserve - Ch. 4

Warnings: Smut. Oh so much smut. Enjoy.

. . . .

To your surprise being at home wasn’t as weird as you thought it would be. The little getaway felt like a bubble that you didn’t want to leave but by the time you stepped back into your small but homely townhouse, you let the weekend settle within you and got back into your homely routine.

When you got in the shower after sorting out the laundry and cleaning out the bad smells in the fridge you let your mind wonder back to last night. Smirking to yourself with the images of Emily sinking between your legs, curling your knees over her shoulders as she licked through your folds, making you scream her name. You let your hand make up for her mouth between your legs as the water ran over your body. Your knees buckled with the visions of Emily coming undone under your touch, her hair a beautiful mess amongst the hotel pillows, moaning your name as your fingers hit the perfect spot within her every time and your lips sucking her supple nipple between your teeth, scraping just enough for her to scream under you. You collapsed against the shower wall with the memory of her sucking your fingers clean.

You had to turn the shower cold after that. Taking a moment to wash yourself before stepping out and tackling the rest of your housework. Needless to say, Emily Prentiss had your body and heart wrapped around her perfect fingers.

Because you’d convinced the higher ups to lend you the plane for the weekend, Emily was back at work rather than at home like the rest of the team. She wasn’t at all pleased with that. Reminding you by angrily texting you throughout meetings as to how she was going to rain hell fire down upon you with the amount she was having to kiss ass right now.

‘You are in for a world of pain when I see you next.’ – Received at 4.58pm.

‘That a promise 😉 ‘ – You replied with a smirk yourself, you knew it would make her shake her head and probably head to your place instead of hers after she finished. That was what you were hoping for at least and not an hour later there was a knock at your front door.

She hadn’t been to your place in months, usually you’d spend a Friday night on her couch watching a movie, back when you were just friends. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that now, now you could have her all the places you’ve ever dreamed about.

“Don’t make me kick your door in.” She grumbled, standing out in the cold with a bag of take out.

You laughed, gathering your thoughts as you unlocked the door. “Thought you were taking your anger out on me, not my poor front door.” Your smirk didn’t falter when you saw her glare but you stepped aside before she knocked you over. Another fantasy to add to the box.

She walked into your place, still very much in work mode until she reached your kitchen. There were candles lit, scattered around your living space and a popped bottle of wine on the counter ready to be poured. She relaxed as your hands wrapped around her waist and she placed the bag of food on your counter. “Don’t think you’re getting away with it that easy. I had back-to-back meetings today, all hours long. One was a budget meeting that you kindly forgot to pass on with that little phone call you had.” Her hand threaded through your hair, her body giving into your touch before she decided to.

You hummed, vaguely remembering the call but you were too distracted with Emily’s bare neck to care about that now. Her body gave her away as your lips found the spot that made her moan, and she did. Your body still hot from the shower earlier.

“Sweetheart…” She sighed as you gripped her tighter, that nickname would always cause a stir in you. “Dinner, then dessert.” It took all her will power to step towards the counter and out of your hold. She laughed at your grumble before your eyes found the food she brought. “You’re still getting punished, it just happens that your favourite meal is also mine.”

You smirked, rounding the counter to get plates and cutlery. She was silent as she served out the food, you poured the wine and took it to the couch. It was too easy, like it had been numerous times before. She plonked herself down, her thigh brushing yours as she handed you dinner. “Thank you, you know you didn’t have to bring over dinner. I could’ve cooked.” Even though there was barely anything edible still in your fridge or pantry.

“I knew you didn’t get a chance to do shopping today, you would’ve complained to me about that so I wanted this and thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“In this scenario, I’m one of the birds right?” You sunk back into the couch, enjoying your meal and company.

She laughed, almost choking on her wine. “As much as I do want to shoot you after today, I couldn’t handle the paperwork that would come after.” Her hand squeezed your thigh.

You feigned hurt by her words but couldn’t hide the snicker. One thing you always loved about Emily was her sense of humour, the bickering between you hadn’t changed and you prayed it never would. “Talking about paperwork… Did you – us come up or...?”

She sighed, placing her wine on the coffee table and turning to face you. “We spoke about the recent case, obviously the added stay at the end. No need to go into detail, it bores me no doubt it’ll put you to sleep, but I did bring it up, yes. As per usual, we are going to be tracked closely, see if it effects our team, there’s a form for you to sign when you come into work tomorrow but other than that its just wait and see.”

It wasn’t what you expected, you didn’t know what to expect but it seemed a lot easier than you thought. You sensed Emily had skipped over the details for your sake. She was good at her job, so you didn’t question it again. Placing a kiss to her lips before you both finished dinner.

The night was easy, neither of you ready to say goodnight as you snuggled on the couch. The movie was almost done when you felt her hands wander. You stretched out, not having moved for over an hour and for her hands to have more space. She moaned into your neck as your legs fell open for her already anticipating her next move. Her fingers slipped into your underwear, teasing you, “Emily…” You moaned as her fingers circled your clit, your body twitching with anticipation. The vibration of her laugh sent shivers down your spine before her fingers slipped inside you without warning. “Fuck.”

“You’re so wet already, baby.” She moaned into your ear, nipping your earlobe. “I should be punishing you but you’re so beautiful I just want to eat you.”

Her words purred and her fingers worked up a slow ready pace. Her thumb teasing your clit as her lips sucked and nipped at your neck. “We can… Fuck…. We can go to my – bed.” You moaned and leant further back into her body.

“In a second, I want you right here first, I’ve wanted to have you on this couch for so long and now… Come for me, baby.” Her thumb and fingers picked up the pace at her words. She felt your body stiffen, your inner walls tighten, her other hand that was wrapped around your middle crept under your shirt, pinching at your nipple and you were gone under her touch.

Your world exploded, her fingers still inside you as she worked you through your orgasm, your body would always be at her mercy. She chuckled as you hissed when she removed her fingers from you. She sucked them clean as you turned around and kissed her. The taste of you had you devouring her mouth. “Come to bed.”

“We have work in the morning.” She groaned as you got up. Not ready to leave your side just yet but you both needed a full night sleep.

“It’s only 10.30pm, I’ll have you well rested, come to bed... I want you in my sheets.”

And you did. She was under you, on top of you, all over you before you could breathe. You screamed her name with her mouth between your legs. Her moan sending you into overdrive, but she didn’t let up. Your bed hadn’t had this much action in forever and you prayed it held up as you flipped her on her back.

“Someone has been doing extra workouts at the gym.” She chuckled as your nipped under her jaw. Sucking and soothing every inch of her divine neck. There would be a turtleneck worn in her future.

“She finally notices.” You nipped her below the ear before traveling south.

Her laughs turned into moans as your tongue circled her nipple. “Sweetheart… I noticed – Oh fuck.”

The nickname made your body serge with desire, sucking her nipple into your mouth not so gently. Your hand squeezing her other breast as her body arched under you. You watched as she lost all her control. Emily Prentiss was the dominant one in the workplace and in the bedroom. Seeing her fall apart just for you, that had your body shivering all over again and it wasn’t because of the wandering hand you felt at your core. “Ah.” You grabbed her wrist, stilling the fingers that were just about to slip inside.

Her smirk turned into a groan, opening her eyes to see her nipple pop out of your mouth as her wrist joined the other one above her head. “I need to –“

“I know, but I need to taste you.” Your lips travelled down her stomach, kissing and sucking every chance you got before your tongue came out and parted her folds. Her body arching as you sucked her clit and then darted down to taste her.

“Mother fu-cker –“ She almost sat up, her body fully under your control and she loved and hated you for it. Not ever wanting to be at the mercy of anyone else ever again but here you were working her to oblivion. Her fingers threaded through your hair and it egged you on, your eyes locked and she fell back into the pillows again.

Seeing her come alive under your touch had you almost coming again. Your core so sensitive that one touch from her and you’d be gone. This feeling would never get old. You could feel her on the edge, your tongue playing with her clit as your fingers found the spot. She screamed, one last pump and she was quivering around you, her thighs squeezing you as you gently pumped her through her orgasm until she fell limp under you.

You climbed up, kissing her stomach, her collarbone before you found her lips, her fingers clawing at your scalp as she kissed you with all the passion she had left.

“You are amazing.” She breathed, letting you collapse on top of her. She held you there, her hands running up and down your back. That was exactly what she needed after today.

Eventually you pushed yourself up, kissing her before making your way to the ensuite. You leant against the doorway looking back as Emily lazily curled up in your sheets. The image imprinted in your brain forever. “Hey.. you coming?”

. .

She was gone by the time you woke up. The space beside you cold but you rolled over and smiled into the pillow. It smelt like her mixed with your conditioner. Last night replaying in your mind as you stretched and picked up your phone.

‘Morning Sweetheart, I didn’t want to wake you. See you at work. You might want to wear a turtle neck.’ Received at 4.38am

The last sentence had you scrambling out of bed and into your bathroom. “Son of a bitch!” You laughed, seeing a big red hickey at the bottom of your neck.

Your morning routine was spent over thinking on how you could get out of work this morning but you knew your boss, Emily, wouldn’t allow it.

‘I hope my handy work did the trick as well.’ You hit send and chucked your phone on the counter as you prepped coffee and your lunch.

Emily got the message as she was driving into work. Getting in ahead of the team as usual. She read it as she parked, laughing remembering all the marks she found on her body as she dressed this morning. ‘Baby, there’s two on my inner thigh and one just above my left tit. Not to mention all the soft pink patches up my neck, I had to wear something conservative too.’ She checked herself in the mirror, making sure the make-up was still covering up her neck.

The text made you warm. Remembering exactly how all of those marks happened.

There was nothing different at work that day, other than signing the form that Emily put on your desk in the morning, everything was as per usual. There wasn’t a case, so you all finished up your reports. A few teases thrown your way but you gave them right back.

Emily kept to her office. You went up after lunch, your excuse to hand in the form. “Knock, knock.”

“Come in, Agent..” Her smirk ready as you stepped up to her desk. “Anything I can help with?”

Your eyes trained on her collar; she had unbuttoned the top two buttons after her meetings this morning. “Just came up to give you this.” You bit your inner lip as you handed over the form, leaning down on her desk.

“That move only works on me if you weren’t wearing a turtleneck, Ho-ney.” She shifted in her chair, playing with her collar, moving it so you could see the mark.

Your eyes darting from her mouth to the mark. You looked over your shoulder, checking that no one was near the door left ajar. “You know how much I want to wipe that wicked smirk off your lips and…” You stopped yourself, watching her shift with your words, pressing together her thighs.

She had made a point to her outfit this morning. Her shirt was buttoned up but paired it with a skirt. Emily’s wicked grin got bigger when your words faltered as she crossed her legs. “Didn’t have a chance to do my laundry, had to go commando today. Shouldn’t have kept me up so late last night, Agent.”

Your knees almost gave out. There was playing dirty and then there was Emily Prentiss playing dirty. “Jesus, Em.” You stumbled back and found the chair.

She took mercy on you, picking up the form and putting it in a folder on her desk. “How’s the rest of the reports going?”

“Fine, almost done. No new case?” It was so easy how you two could be almost ready to devour each other and in the next second talk about work. Although your body still wanted to push her up against a wall and find out if she was really going commando under that very tight skirt.

The rest of the afternoon was slow. You kept a safe distance the rest of the afternoon. Not even saying goodbye to her as you left for the evening. God knows if you went back into her office again, alone, things would happen and you’d be absolutely fired from the FBI.

You weren’t home long before a text came through. Sighing you got up and picked up your go bag.

‘Wheels up in an hour.’ Received at 6.18pm

‘Be there in 30, need anything? A spare change of underwear?’ Sent at 6.21pm

She laughed, reading your text as she packed her go bag. ‘ 😉 See you soon, Beautiful. I hear someone has to share a room. Unsure who I would want to bunk up… any ideas?’

You smiled, going around checking everything was locked up. Letting her sit for a moment before you replied. ‘Ask Morgan, he hasn’t shared in a while.’ It was meant as a tease.

‘Oh, ok. Everything ok?’ Emily faltered, replaying everything that happened in the office today. Maybe she was too unprofessional today, unsure on how far she could push you in the office. She knew how far she could push you in the bedroom.

‘Everything is fine. I’m only teasing. He’ll only use our new found connection as an excuse that he shouldn’t have to share with Reid ever again. Plus, I like the way you snore.’

Oh, she was going to punish you for that one. ‘Very funny, you’re the one that snores. Your little snorts are adorable btw.’

‘Liar. I’m going to be late now. Hold the plane or stop texting me.’

It wasn’t a long flight, thankfully. Everyone was tired and by the time you landed it was well past all your bedtimes. Well your old bed time. No one said anything when Emily dished out the room keys to the hotel and said to meet in the lobby at 8am ready to head into the local station all well rested.

Derek gave you a smirk as you waited behind for Emily. She hadn’t handed you a key.

“Guess you are bunking with me, Agent.” She smirked and you tried your best to play it cool. She was still in that tight ass skirt.

“Only if I get to find out what’s under that skirt.” You whispered as she walked past, she faltered but only for your eyes.

It turned out she was telling the truth and she did pay you back for calling her out on her snoring. Making you beg for it; you weren’t above begging when Emily Prentiss was between your legs. You failed to see how it was a punishment.

“Mmm I should go commando more often.” She rose above you, kissing your neck as you came back to earth.

Your hands roamed up her thighs, pinching your ass. “Only if it ends with you sitting on my face.” Her eyes snapped to yours, dark with desire as her thigh twitched.

“I haven’t –“ She felt you pull, and she couldn’t deny it. Her core already dripping at the thought.

She smothered you, hesitantly at first but when you worked your tongue into her centre, she couldn’t help but ground down. The pressure caused you to moan and her body was on fire.

“Fuck baby…” Her hands gripping the bed head, knuckles white when your nose bumped her clit.

Your hands squeezed her ass, tugging her impossibly closer until she was fully sitting on your face. Her thighs started to tremble as you picked up the pace. You pumped your tongue into her and finding exactly the spot that sends her wild. She ground down when your tongue hit it and you chuckled, causing her to hiss at the sensation. The feeling of her sitting on your was consuming in all the right ways, hearing her lose control had you almost coming. Brushing your nose against her clit every time and you could feel her thighs stiffen, her inner walls constrict around your tongue and your groaned.

She held in a scream, knowing the whole hotel would hear her. “Yes, right – Fuck, FUCK!” She ground her hips in time with your tongue and she was gone.

You held onto you, drinking her in. Her thighs squeezing your face, quivering as your tongue worked her through every wave and aftershock. You forgot about breathing with her sitting on your face, moaning as her juices dribbled down your chin. She ground down in retaliation before rising slightly to give you some air. Her legs still jelly in your arms.

Eventually she found her legs again and shifted down you body. Both of your groaning at the lack of contact.

Her eyes glazed over, cheeks still pink and sweat glistening her features. “You… are amazing!” She kissed her cum off your face and collapsed on top of you.

You held onto her, neither of you ready to move. The cool air made her shiver, and she reached back to cover you both in a blanket. You fell asleep like that, her wrapped in your arms.

. . . .

[imagionationstation]

DA BOIS

I SAW THE MOVIE

I WAS INTRODUCED TO THE UTTER NONSENSE THAT IS MM /aff

I HAVE THOUGHTS

NOT, LIKE, ANALYSIS WHICH MAY COME LATER

JUST THOUGHTS

AND SPOILERS

So I’m studying the boys and at first I was just “They really are leaning into this whole teen thing, huh” but then I thought back to every memory I have of my brothers and how they interacted and was just like- OH

OH WAIT

THIS IS ACCURATE

🤣 The bacon and egg scene- literally my brothers in a nutshell. The constant quotes and references- a little on the nose, but accurate.

BUT I SPENT

THE ENTIRE MOVIE

Waiting to see which turtle would spike my patented they need some hurt/comfort and at first I was leaning towards Leo- BUT THEN WHEN THAT BUS/TRUCK (I forget exactly what it was) FLEW STRAIGHT AT DONNIE AND MIKEY’S WATCHING IN HORROR AND DONNIE IS STUMBLING AND HURT AND OBLIVIOUS AND LOOKS ONLY HALF PRESENT-

Hands down. That got me.

I has a favorite and he’s so innocent and bright-eyed and deserves injury and kidnapping. I will make this happen.

The boys as a family were so fluffy and vibrant and relatable.

The boys as individuals��?

Leo has personality and concerns and attachments and a crush and flaws and strengths and he just felt like an person.

The rest seemed kinda… Plain. Raph had the anger thing going for him, but I have a hard time distinguishing Mikey’s and Donnie’s personalities. Mikey was friendly and liked improve, but that was never really touched on at all. In battle or otherwise- Donnie was the one who was thinking fast and taking the lead when talking to the Superfly. And Donnie was the one who Leo described as the best with people.

I’m not exactly sure what Mikey had going for him…

Donnie isn’t much of a techie, other than his headphones and phone, which is only used casually. He can drive and read comics, but that’s not really an abnormal teen thing. Like, any of his brothers couldn’t have driven using game skills? Or come up with a comic/movie solution to defeat Superfly?

That’s more nitpicks than anything tho. I might have missed things as well- it’s only my first watch. You shouldn’t make any firm decisions or judgements based on a first meeting. Hopefully, I’ll spot differences between them later on or they’ll flush out the characters more in the series.

They pushed a LOT into this movie. Everything was happening all at once. Like, they didn’t skip a BEAT when shifting from evil mutants trying to kill the boys to TCRI is locking them up.

And what the heck did Leo expect April to do?? SHE WAS ON A HIGHWAY BRIDGE?? DID HE EXPECT HER TO JUMP DOWN- SHE’S COMMENTED ON HOW CRAZY THEIR ROOFTOP TRAVEL IS! What makes him think she can do that??? 🤣🤣

At the very least she had to bike around and off the bridge to do anything, and he would have been unconscious by then. Boi just like “she abandoned us 🥺” when she could have been trying to help them while they were being loaded before going to get Splinter.

All hypothetical, of course. Would make for a good OneShot tho.

I like how the April betrayal was just a “I guess I was wrong” type of disappointment and not some dramatic heartbreak, because that feels more realistic to me. Relieved the crush wasn’t played off for laughs and all the brothers seemed disappointed.

April was such a good teen. They never played her off as anything but a normal person who didn’t have quite the right amount of self-preservation. Probably where the journalism comes in.

She was also a good representation that you don’t need green skin to not fit in. Life is hard, man, and I hope the series explores that even tho people don’t scream when they see them, that doesn’t mean life will be any less difficult. School is still prey grounds and people are still predators .

OMGEE SUPERFLY THO

DUDE WAS SCARY. BUT THE WHOLE TIME. I WAS WATCHING.

I COULDN’T NOT LIKE HIM FOR BEING EVIL

Dude got his daddy KILLED after daddy talked about raising him and his siblings and being a loving family by a bunch of weapon-using scary humans that also tried to kill them WHILE HE WAS A BABY

TCRI CREATED A FORMATIVE MEMORY THAT WAS STRAIGHT TRAUMA! OF COURSE HE HATES HUMANS-

That poor fly 🥺😔

The parallel between Splinter and Superfly was interesting. Felt a tiny bit forced at the end there, but I can respect it. Can’t dictate a fam’s every choice. That’s not fair. Gotta let your fam be free to grow and make their own mistakes and create their own morals~

I have a couple other thoughts, but I want to formulate them a bit more. See if I can make stuff off of them.

One last thing before I go…

MY SOCIAL ANXIETY HEADCANON STILL STANDS

NOT ONCE IN THE WHOLE MOVIE WERE THEY SEPERATED UNTIL THE SCHOOL

And even then it’s in a controlled environment. They all know where the other is. It seems safe.

But what happens when that illusion is gone…?

[ghostboidanny]

Flowers of truth choking on my secrets

Ao3

Tumblr part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 (here)

Danny lies sometimes. Of course he does, which teenager doesn't lie occasionally? But lying becomes much more important after he dies, alone, in his parents’ lab, inside a Portal leading into a whole new world. He lies to his family and to his friends, to his classmates and teachers and everyone else he comes across. He lies to himself. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. Because being Phantom is too dangerous and it’s the only way to keep himself his loved ones safe.

Unfortunately, for ghosts lying has consequences. Deadly consequences.

Chapter 6: The truth is out

He slowly wakes up, which is a surprise even to him. Danny had been certain that he would die during that last attack. Die again . Because he has already died once, months ago. He didn’t just get ghost powers, he died and he came back . Maybe that is what has happened now. Maybe he died fully this time. That would explain why he feels fine when last he could remember, he was in torturous amounts of pain. 

His chest is no longer burning and he can breathe properly for the first time in months, since that day he walked into the portal and died . The memory flashes through his mind and he almost wishes he could bury it again. It hurts to think about, makes the hand that pressed the button ache with phantom pain - though logically he knows that the hand shouldn’t feel any better or worse than the rest of him. He remembers now that his whole body was burnt to a crisp by the end. Only the ectoplasm immediately fusing with his destroyed body and merging his soul back together with it saved him. His heart races at the memory. 

Wait … his heart races . He can feel his core buzzing, but if he had died fully this time, then his heart should have stopped for good. 

Danny’s eyes fly open.

The first thing he notices is that he’s still in the same hospital room as before, except now it's night time. The second time he notices is that his parents and sister are all sleeping in different chairs around the room - Sam and Tucker are nowhere to be seen so they must have been kicked out of the hospital. The third thing he notices is the heart monitor, displaying that his heart is beating at a steady - though slightly slower than normal - rate. 

“I’m alive”, he whispers to himself, starting in astonishment at his hands. His voice is hoarse and speaking hurts, but not nearly as much as it did before. It's more like a moderate cold than thorns in his throat. And his throat doesn't close up on itself when he tries to speak about death. The improvement is so minimal and yet it feels vast to him. 

“I died and then I came back to half life and right as I was dying again, I finally admitted the truth to myself, and so I’m still half alive.”

All this time, he had been sick because he had been lying to himself . Though lying to his friends and family probably didn't help any. A laugh escapes his throat and then another. Soon he’s laughing so hard that he can’t breathe. 

He sees the other people in the room startle awake and feels guilty about it, but can’t stop laughing. “Danny?” Jazz mumbles, looking at him with sleep addled eyes, deep purple bags beneath them. Her eyes widen when she takes in his awake form in the bed. 

A second later, her arms close around his body, pulling him into a hug. He presses his face against her shoulder. It isn’t until the fabric grows wet that he realizes that he’s crying. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I died”, he sobs and her arms spasm around him for a second before she hugs him even tighter. 

When Jazz next speaks, she sounds heartbroken. “Yeah, you did.” 

“I couldn't face the truth of it for so long that it almost killed me again. I really thought I would die for good this time.”

Jazz’s voice turns to steel. “You didn’t and you won’t. But I’m proud of you for facing the truth, no matter how hard it was.”

“I only did it thanks to you. If you hadn’t realized that I’ve been lying to myself and made me face the truth, I would have died. Thank you.”

Jazz leans back and cups his face in her hands. She strokes some tears away with her thumbs and looks very intently into his eyes. “There is no need to thank me, I would do anything to help you. Anything .”

There is a surprised sound coming from the corner with his parents and then in the next second, Jack runs across the room and pulls both Danny and Jazz into a hug. Within moments, Danny can feel tears soaking his hair. “You’re awake!”

His dad’s loud voice startles Maddie awake as well and a second later she is also sobbing on him. She presses a kiss against his forehead. “My baby boy! We nearly lost you for good, never do something like that again!”

“I’ll try not to”, Danny says as tears start dripping down his cheeks again. He clings to his parents and is happy to discover that he is once again strong enough to actually hug them back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I can’t even imagine how hard all of this must have been for you. I’m just glad you’re alive … or half alive?” She asks, sounding very careful all of a sudden, as if she didn’t want to offend him or scare him. It only makes him cry harder and Maddie immediately pulls him closer. 

“It … it was very hard. I didn't w-want to admit to myself that I had d-died. That’s why I didn’t tell you guys about being Phantom. S-some part of me knew that it would lead to me having to confront my death and I wasn’t r-ready. It was easier to just l-lie about everything, at least until it hurt me so much I almost died again.”

“We understand”, Maddie says and kisses his forehead again. 

“But you know the truth now?” Jazz asks from where her face is pressed against his shoulder. He can feel some wetness there too but doesn't comment on it. 

“Yeah, I know that I died in the portal and that it then brought it back. I know that I don't just have ghost powers but am a half ghost. Half alive, half dead.” For every word he speaks, he feels lighter and lighter. The last of the pressure in his chest disappears and his breathing gets easier. In fact, he’s pretty sure that his throat and lungs have completely healed up. 

He pulls back from his family and stares down at his hands. He feels stronger than he’s ever done before. If he’s lied to himself ever since the accident first started then … how long did he have the parasite for? Since the very beginning? Has he been fighting while sick all this time? Just how powerful is he?

“I … I’m going to transform into Phantom now”, Danny says, half to warn his family and half to prepare himself. His family back away a few steps, but for the first time, he feels no fear about transforming when someone else might see him. His parents smile at him in encouragement and Jazz has so much pride in her eyes that he feels heat rise into his cheeks. 

Danny pulls on his core and it buzzes with energy, almost more than he can comprehend. The transformation passes over him in a flash, faster than ever before. Gravity lets go of its grip on him without any struggle on his part and he floats up from the bed, weightless. A laugh bubbles from his throat. A throat that is completely healed. The pain he’s suffered for so long while in ghost form is just gone . 

The excitement is too much and just has to do a loop to get some of the energy out. He laughs some more and is startled when another voice joins him. Danny looks over to see his family. Jazz is beaming, laughter spilling from her mouth. His mom has tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling fondly at him. 

Jack cheers, “That's my boy!” Then he runs forward and sweeps Danny into a crushing hug. Danny hugs back, melting into his dad’s arms. 

A strange sound starts up from the center of his chest, where his core lies. It's like a big cat is purring, a deep repetitive sound. For a moment he feels like he should be embarrassed by it, but then the rest of his family join the hug and he forgets all about it. He just basks in the love radiating from his family and the relief of all the pain being gone. 

The truth is out and his family still love him. The truth is out and it didn’t destroy him, as he has feared for so long. Suddenly, the future looks bright and as Danny is nestled in the arms of his family, he feels ready to face it.

[fancifulflora]

ATOC ROs at a Theme Park: Modern!AU Headcanons

I just came back from Universal since I was celebrating my baby cousin's birthday and my legs hurt and I hurt and I regret not having shoes that aren't heeled. So while I nurse my wounds I'm going to slap down some headcanons about the LIs at a theme park since it popped into my head mid-wait for a ride

Azad/Ashti

Enjoys people-watching a little too much while waiting in line. They might look a little distant and in thought, but don't let those hazel eyes fool you- they're judging the unfortunate beach bottle blonde Karen cut on one of the others in the line.

Will ignore most of the side vendors and booths for the most part, until they pass by the carnival-style games where you can earn your selection of over-priced, mass-produced plushies you could probably order online.

That's when A backs it the fuck up and makes it their mission to win.

I mean.

They want to win one for you, of course. That's why they're doing it. It has nothing to do with the self-satisfied smirk on the vendor's face when some teenagers walked away with a measly consolation prize.

And it has nothing to do with the fact that they dared to boast that it was unbeatable. No, no no no. Nothing as silly as that.

After a few failed tries, curses, and a small snack break, you end up with the biggest prize in your arms, resting on top of a tiny mountain of small keychains and prizes that A won while trying to beat the damned game. But hey, at least you have something to remember the day by? Well, a lot of somethings but you get the idea.

When the heat starts getting to the two of you, A is the most likely to go get one of those water bottles that mists you while a fan blasts a cool breeze into your face- without you needing to ask too.

If there's a cool water ride or, even better, one of the crazy ones that flip you upside down and drag you so close to the water's surface but not quite. A's going. Period.

They will have their hands in the air the entire time and enjoy the adrenaline rush and laugh internally at everyone looking like a wet rat by the time the ride's over.

And if there's a water park???

To be honest, A might try a few cool water rides in a water park but have you seen the pools? They might enjoy swimming and the water more than your average joe but they aren't a fool.

Would be a little more than curious to try out one of those artificial wave machines though, probably faring well on their own board.

Dara/Delal

They come prepared with a complete battle plan. The tickets are expensive and so to make the most of their time there's a perfect route for everyone to take that will let the group hit all the best rides before they have to leave or simply loose the will to continue on

Too bad everything goes out the window the moment they get through the gates and everyone starts splitting into their own groups

Still, is dedicated to not letting their work go to waste and will trek on anyways. One second, you see them on one side of the park, but the next time you get off a ride D is now on the exact opposite side of the damn place, halfway through the line already. How did they even make that much distance so fast? And how are they already that far up the line? Isn't that ride supposed to be popular?

The world may never know

If the two of you are together though, then you'll know that D has one of those sites on their phone that keeps you updated on the amount of traffic on each attraction and has already committed the map to vague memory. No need to shuffle awkwardly to the side of the path in a sea of people and "Sorry!"s and "Excuse me!"s as you fumble through your bags to find some flimsy piece of paper.

With D around, your trip is made much less socially awkward. And with their large size, it makes it easier to carve through the swarms of tourists and regular parkgoers. After all, no one wants to be flattened by someone so large with that serious look in their eyes, all part ways for the two of you, if just by a little bit.

Will scrunch their nose at most of the cheesy lines on the t-shirts and hats but will most likely cave by the end of the day and at least get one thing to remind them of their little outing. Avoids all eye contact when they leave a gift shop with a cap on that says "I had an un-bee-lievable time!" with a cartoon bee winking at you as if they too were enjoying the embarrassment.

Though slightly flustered at first, would probably wear a matching outfit or a couples t-shirt with you for the day. It's cute, okay?! And if done tastefully, isn't nearly as bad as it sounds.

Will probably wind down and relax by going on slow rides, the kind that takes you on a tour throughout the park just so they can see the sights and rest their legs from all that standing and walking around.

But the moment they get off the break's over and D's already on the move, only slowing down fully if you show signs of getting tired yourself.

If it wasn't going to catch the stares of everyone within a 20 feet radius, D would most certainly be down for carting you around in their arms when you get tired. If you ask them too they won't hesitate, though it might make them a little more than embarrassed to do so.

Rozerîn/Rêzan

Why are they even here? Couldn't you all have chosen something more relaxing? It's hot. Too hot. There are so many people. Sweaty people. People who need a bar or two of deodorant or some sense of personal space knocked into them. R is the unfortunate one that's dragged along for the day but still finds a way to enjoy it themselves

Admires the way all the employees stay in character as they put on shows throughout the park. The costumes are wonderfully designed, the atmosphere, even when it changes just when you round the corner, is rather immersive if you linger.

Wouldn't want to go on any crazy rides that throw you haphazardly around. However, they would enjoy those cool 3D rides with a simple storyline and cute effects like a fog machine or a water mister.

Finds the fact that all the rides drop you off at an appropriately themed gift shop the second after the ride's over to be distasteful.

Then, they see the cutest animal plush in the world and forgets all about that for a second. You might want to stop them before they have the mind to get you one too because these plushies are gonna quickly become your new faux children. And whoops, they have names now too. How did that happen?

Will don the biggest sunhat you've ever seen and dramatic sunglasses for the day and no, they aren't taking it off. Would be willing to replace the big shades they have if you buy them a replacement. No matter how silly it looks, it's still a gift from you after all.

If there's some kind of petting zoo available they're already b-lining for it. You can certainly join as well... if you catch up with them. But unless there are other cool sights to see this may be where they spend a great many hours of the day.

I'll give it a solid 6/10 chance that R ends up babysitting everyone else's stuff while they go on rides. Bumping it to a 9/10 if X is allowed to go crazy with their purchases. I mean, someone's gonna have to watch all your stuff and it's not like they're all too interested in whatever the "Shark Tornado" that you're all going on is.

With enough convincing and maybe a little smile from you they're willing to go on one or two of the more intense rides, although the caveat is that they're gonna be riding next to you no matter what.

If the ride's especially scary they'd hold and squeeze your hand tight before moving to the safety rails before they cut off circulation or something.

And afterward, with the wind having blown through their long hair and their face flushed from the pumping of adrenaline and blood in their heart, R manages to come out still looking pretty.

A messy pretty, but pretty nonetheless.

Xelara/Xelef

Buys a ridiculous amount of souvenirs. Like. A silly amount.

Will start off at a gift store absentmindedly looking through the selections and then they see something Heval would like. Oh shoot, you would love this. They just have to get it! Damn, they should probably get this too while they're at it. Ohhhh, now D would hate this... which is the perfect reason why they need to buy it for them.

Will shrug off any attempts to get them to stop with a small "it's a special occasion!", as if that argument really holds when they're trying to buy a snow globe in mid-July.

Honestly, the mental image of X clad from head to toe in theme park merchandise is more than amusing, until you realize that they're going to rope you into the same thing.

Would die waiting in line, so they make it a point to buy into the dumb fast pass system and will reserve the right to still complain a little if the line wait is too long.

I could see it being really cute being in line with X though, due to how physically affectionate they are. They wouldn't go over the line with PDA if it made you uncomfortable, but would most likely burn the time away with their arms wrapped around you, their chin resting on your head if you're short enough or against your shoulder. Might sneak a lil smooch in there if there aren't too many people in line.

Feel free to give them a little shove when the sun rises too high and everything gets too overwhelmingly hot though, X is practically a furnace so they understand even if they pout a little.

Same as D in the sense that they enjoy the more extreme rides more, but instead of putting their hands in the air and taking it in like a normal person they make it their mission to scout out the exact timing in which the ride takes your photo and comes in prepared

They'll do the usual, raise their arms up, screaming much louder than those around them, but by the time the ride is up and everyone's disheveled and their legs are all wobbly X is practically bouncing on their feet.

Heading down to the gift shop you can see why, with everyone looking like a mess they're the only photogenic one in these "candid" photos. It's even better if you aren't nearly as graceful on rollercoasters, X determined to collect all the images of the two of you on every ride you go on with claims of finding the contrast "endearing". And if you do happen to look pretty put together despite the hellish twists and turns of the ride, X makes it their mission to get the two of you to do poses for the camera on the rest of the rides. Collecting the images and then lining them up by the end of the trip in a makeshift photobooth reel of the day.

BONUS

Kulîlk Teyran

Will not eat the entire day prior in preparation for the big outing. But don't worry too much about her, she's already planning to make up for it in spades when she gets the chance.

She's super excited the moment that the trip is even brought up, never having really gotten the chance to go out much before. And to spend one of those outings at a theme park? With friends? With you?? What more could she want?

Does research in her own way. Mainly by looking through social media of other people going to the same park and studying their reviews and pictures. Will go to YouTube for videos of people eating through the menus there or taking POV footage of rides so she can mentally prepare herself and plan accordingly. Oh? The turkey legs are overrated? Well she won't bother with trying that then...

However, it's due to her excitement that she can't sleep by the end of the day. And when she can't sleep she begins to be anxious about missing the set time you guys meet up and being late. And when she thinks about being late she gets physically ill with anxiety and the fear of irritating her friends and you. And since she's anxious now, she can't sleep.

The cycle continues and before she knows it she barely gets 3 hours of sleep and her alarm is already ringing while she stares wide-eyed at the ceiling. Great. Lovely. What a start to the big trip to the theme park.

Still shows up before anyone else does, the most bitter cup of coffee in hand and her stomach dying. Only brightens up when she sees you or the rest approaching.

Finds the most endearing thing about theme parks to be the cute way they style and theme their food. Whether it's a cupcake with a little unicorn horn on it or a burger with the character stamped across the top of the bun Kulîlk is taking photos and sampling anything that doesn't seem too sweet.

Will offer to share what she eats with you as well, though it's partially so that she has more room to eat other things.

If you're eager to ride the attractions then she will be as well! Although you might have to help her walk a little after an especially fast and loopy one.

Not going to lie, she's the most likely to get sick after an especially intense attraction. Anxiety, a full stomach, caffeine, none of it is especially helpful to the poor woman dying on the park bench.

Will probably buy some souvenirs, but in this case, has her phone out comparing the prices online with what she sees in the stores. So unless it's an item that you get to customize or has a big show about it, Kulîlk will wait till after you all leave the park in order to order you whatever you want.

Could cave with a light breeze or kiss though, so go nuts lol.

Is the annoying one with a camera, wanting to take pictures of everything that seems cool and will ask for group photos on occasion. She prefers the more candid shots anyhow.

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 6 • 45 - Nero

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 6 Masterlist • Next

TW: Blood

Nero lurks in the corner of a two-story car park, coated in shadow. She’s got a pepper sprayer in the satchel that hangs around her, she’s not sure why Roland wanted to meet here. She hears flats tapping as Roland makes his way around the corner.

“Well, this is creepier than when Trevor asked me about a parting gift.” She laughs awkwardly.

Roland stops momentarily before finishing his way over to her.

“Oh, sorry that’s probably a touchy subject.”

“Just stop talking.”

“Sorry.”

Roland takes a breath, “Friday I told you that I knew a bad way to let out misery,” He pauses. “I need to tell you what I did.” 

Nero looks around nervously, “Is it bad?”

“Very bad,” He takes another breath, then pauses, he actually paces around a little before continuing. “I, I, one time I pinned a girl set for unwinding to a bathroom wall, and I told her that I’d make sure she’d be unwind-proof for nine months. What’s even worse is that when her boyfriend came in and I told him she had wandering eyes for me, she didn’t, obviously.” He sniffs.

Nero is pissed, absolutely grossed out, but there’s something weird about what he said. “Hold up, if she was set for unwinding, weren’t you set for unwinding?”

“Yes, and?”

Nero becomes less uncomfortable. “Well then that doesn’t matter anymore, your actions before your unwinding have been made null because you’re Modified. I can’t do anything about it, you just have to deal with the burden of those memories.”

“Why aren’t you hurting me yet?” Roland mumbles.

“Pardon?”

“WHY AREN’T YOU HURTING ME YET!? I DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED NERO!” He yells.

Nero is worried and confused. “But it’s not your fault, you need to start thinking about your pre-unwind memories in the third person.”

“Well if you won’t hurt me because of that, then, I also kissed my ex without her permission, does that make you feel anything?”

Nero starts to be annoyed by this nonsense. “Did you do that, or did Roland Taggart?”

“What answer will make you beat the shit out of me?”

Nero turns away from Roland, pressing her index and thumb to her nose bridge. “Roland, I’m not giving you a beating for something you yourself didn’t do.”

Nero hears someone running behind her, she panics pulling her satchel off of herself and wiping it out by the loop as she turns back around. Nero watches in horror as the satchel connects with Roland’s face, it sends him flying against the concrete wall and to the floor of the car park. 

“ROLAND!” Nero screams as she sees blood appear on the concrete from underneath his face. She lifts up his bloodied and bruised body from the concrete. “Now we’re talking,” Roland says shakily, “But, that didn't hurt enough.” 

Nero hastily grabs serviettes and hand sanitizer from her satchel, trying not to punch Roland’s already caked-in-blood face for such a stupid comment. “Oh I think it did, your meds are just still working their magic.”

Nero blots away at his face, neck, and shoulders, it’s not as bad as she thought, but his chin will definitely need stitches. She sees Roland’s eyes widen at the amount of tissues she’s used up. “Don’t worry that’s most of it, now are you done being an idiot?”

Roland nods, Nero places a bandaid on Roland’s chin until she can get it stitched up. “Why did you even want to do this in the first place?”

“Risa.”

“Risa?”

“The girl in the bathroom, she was in my dreams last night, she asked me to get someone to beat me up.”

Nero shakes her head. “Dear lord Roland, your dreams are in your subconscious, Risa didn’t ask you to do jack-shit.”

“I know! But no one ever got justice, so why can’t I give them justice now!?”

“Because Roland Taggart already got karma through his unwinding, now stop feeling sorry for yourself!” She pauses. “You need to let it go, you probably just ruined your weekend because of this.”

Roland finally breaks down, crying into Nero’s shoulder. “It was already ruined.” He cries.

Nero furrows her eyebrows, something’s off, and she suddenly gets very angry. “You and Trevor didn’t break it off like you texted me, did you?”

“He didn’t listen to me, and I was his side piece, he already had a girlfriend.”

Nero sticks to the first thing, her voice turns ice cold. "What do you mean by that? He didn't listen to you?"

"He, he..."

“Did he touch you?”

Roland nods, Nero’s stomach sinks, and guilt practically radiates off of her. She should’ve told Trevor to “bug off” when he asked about a parting gift, and she should’ve never told Roland Trevor was checking him out.

“Nero!” Roland gasps. “Nero you’re choking me!”

Nero loosens her grip on him, “I’m sorry,” She looks into his tear-filled eyes. “Let’s just go have a girls' day, or… something, I don’t really know what a girls' day is.”

Roland emits a chuckle. “I think it’s either going to the mall or having a pamper session and talking shit, I don’t feel like doing the talking shit part though.”

Nero nods, “Let’s just relax at the apartment then, are you okay if I drop you off while I go pick stuff up?”

Roland agrees Nero helps him off the ground, and they start heading out of the car park.

Nero squats to be level with the bottom shelf at the variety store, currently trying to decide whether to get Roland lavender or eucalyptus Epsom salts. 

“Can I help you out with anything?”

Nero looks up at one of the store clerks looking down at her. 

“Just trying to decide which salt to get, do you have any suggestions?”

“I’d go with lavender, eucalyptus is too strong and only really good for plugged noses.” 

“Right, thank you.”

As the store clerk leaves Nero puts the lavender salts and unscented bubble bath into her basket. She looks around to see if she can find face masks when something catches her eye, hair dye. When the nurses had originally shown Sam and Nero the videos of Starkey both of them were horrified. Somehow though, the only thing that stuck with Nero was how well his red curly hair went with his face. Nero looks through the dyes to see if she can find anything similar. Throughout this time Starkey’s hair has been slowly growing back brown and curly under the bleach-blonde cut. Nero does find a similar dye, but she puts it back on the shelf, if she’s going to dye her hair like his then she might as well get it professionally permed at the same time. 

Nero ends up finding face masks on an end shelf next to where she was first looking. Near the checkout, Nero grabs more protein bars and a rubber duck for Roland as a joke. 

Nero gets back to the Apartment, hiding the duck as a surprise. She goes over to Roland’s room, knocking before entering. Nero sighs and goes over to the giant, sobbing lump in the bed, she starts petting it. “What’s wrong this time?” She asks.

“I saw myself in the mirror, I look like a monster!” He cries.

Nero rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. “Oh Roland, c’mon bud, I got you some Epsom salts and bubble bath, why don’t you go relax?”

Roland peeks out from under the covers. “Will you cover the mirror for me?” 

“Of course.” Nero leaves the room as Roland slowly crawls out of bed.

Once Roland is properly in the tub Nero comes in to drop in the rubber duck. “You’re in a city of bubbles and yet you still look mad, you bruting over there?”

Roland shakes his head. “No, I just sometimes look mad when I’m calm.”

Nero giggles. “Oh,” She reveals the rubber duck, placing it in the water. “I got you a little friend.”

The duck floats off towards Roland’s face, tapping it. “It keeps bumping into me.” He states.

Nero smirks, “Yeah, it’s giving you little ducky kisses, ‘cause it loves you.” 

Roland smiles for once. “I love you too ducky.” He even giggles. 

Nero touches her head. “Your hair is growing out.”

He nods. “I’m not opposed to it, but I might keep the sides shaved and blow it out.”

Nero nods back, she then gets serious. “If it’s not too much to ask of you right now, I’d like you to tell me your story of before you got unwound. There’s a catch though.”

“What’s that?” 

“I want you to tell me it in the third person.”

…

“He, I, Roland didn’t make it on the varsity boxing team, so he challenged one of the members, that member was dating Roland’s ex. And to piss that member off Roland kissed his ex.”

“I see.” 

…

“To get Connor’s attention Roland went and sexually harassed Risa, I remember hearing that Roland wasn’t going to do anything, but I only have memories of what happened. I don’t know if he meant to do anything or nothing.”

“Okay…”

…

“Roland was being such an asshole that Connor thought he killed the goldens so he trapped Roland in a metal shipping crate to interrogate him.”

“So that’s why you freaked out the first day I met you.”

“Yeah.”

…

“Roland had had enough of Connor so he outed Connor, and Risa by proxy to the Juvies, all three of them got caught.”

“How’d you get near Juvies?”

“With the Chopper, we were at a hospital because the Admiral had a stroke. Roland never liked the Admiral, he was forced to take him.”

“Ah.”

…

“At the Chop Shop, Roland tried strangling Connor, but he was too scared to end him.”

“Mhmm.”

“And then Roland got unwound.” Roland looks up at Nero.

She shrugs. “Well, now I’ve got a better idea of him. And hey, I don’t think you even noticed, but I made you do a mental exercise.”

“How?”

“You spoke about Roland in the third person, not as yourself, by doing that you can disassociate from him, like you should’ve been doing this whole time.”

“Oh.” 

Nero looks around, most of the bubbles are gone, Nero panics and gets up. “Kaaaaaaayyyyyy, I’m going to get out of here before I see something I don’t want to, are you okay with Chinese takeout tonight?”

Roland shoves his hands between his legs, embarrassed. “Yup, that sounds good.”

Nero gets out of the bathroom, across the room from the door is the table that the bouquet sits on. It brings violent imagery into Nero’s head, of all the ways she could harm and screw over Trevor. She pulls out one of the forget-me-nots, pressing her thumb under the head of the flower she pops it off. 

Nero hears the bathroom door opening, she quickly puts the stem and flower into the nearest garbage.

“Sorry, it was getting cold in there.” Roland laughs, he looks across the room, he then averts his eyes from the vase, his lips pouting. Nero comes over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Tomorrow I will bring him to justice, I promise you.”

Nero sits on the benches with Carter, she glares across the room at Trevor, pumping a weight in her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Carter asks.

“You told me once that you ate bullies for breakfast.”

“Yeah…”

“Well you let a bully get away, and now you’ve got to devour him whole for dinner.”

Justice comes in many ways, whether someone is rightfully convicted, whether the wealth is equally distributed, or possibly whether someone gets the correct treatment. Today, justice comes in fingers shoved so far up someone’s nose that it bleeds and multiple kicks in between the legs.

[silverslipstream]

17: Someone you miss

Thanks for the ask, anon! The first person to come to mind is my highschool best friend. We met in Year 8 (we were both twelve) and were friends for years. I still remember the day we met, and the only spare seat in the room was next to me. We got talking, realised we were both into cars and videogames, and the rest was history. We were polar opposites: he was decently popular, sporty and outgoing, with bright red hair, and I was quiet, studious and often bullied. Despite our differences, he always tried to include and make time for me, and always made sure that other people knew our friendship was special to him. He beat a guy up for me once, and I found out from someone else because 'he didn't want me to think he was solving my problems for me.'

At the time, I was just starting to come to grips with my attraction to guys, and surprise surprise, he was the first guy I kinda locked onto. I didn't really understand it at first: why I was so desperate to make him laugh and smile, why I made excuses to hang out with him all the time, why my glances kept straying to him in the PE changing rooms. Growing up in single-sex education in rural New Zealand was the opposite of a comfortable environment to be queer in, and I didn't even know what the hell bisexuality was. We're just really close mates, I told myself. Practically brothers. I probably loved him more than my own brother.

Sadly, we both moved away at the start of Year 11 - I went off to the UK when my parents had enough of me coming home black-and-blue, and he got sent off to boarding school after his mum died and his dad decided he couldn't cope with his sons in the house. He got into drugs and drink to deal with the loneliness. I lost count of the amount of times I'd VC with him on Discord for hours at a time, playing online games and having deep chats, trying to make sure he had someone on his side (even if I was on the other side of the planet).

Last I heard, he's sober and moved to a new town down in southern New Zealand at a new job. We don't talk very much anymore and I regret that. I think you always do with your greatest friends, and it didn't help that he was technically my 'closet key.' But it's whatever. We love people, we lose them, life goes on. At least I got some great stories and memories out of it.

[muchadoaboutnot]

⚔️

It's typical and of course, comforting the first person to come to her is Varric.

Composed, unconcerned, airy attitude he has about him tells her everything she needs to know. Obviously, he saw her walking around with Samson earlier and needs to know every detail STAT.

"So... Where's your friend?"

"Taking a bath."

"How scandalous."

Is their first exchange. The laugh that both of them emit is as familiar as if they were blood family, but she thinks made family does the job even better. Either way the pair walk side by side and shes in a much better mood than when she left the tower. Yet Varric's voice brings her back to her task, she's steering them towards the small stalls that have been set up in a makeshift marketplace the Hold has. "I thought you were supposed to be watching him at all times? Sparkler let a few of us know what's going on after Lucky told him."

"I locked the tower door, he's not getting out."

Her response makes Varric chuckle because technically Leto is already not holding up her part of the deal but she was never one to listen to rules.

"He'll be fine! He's got a hot bath, a whole room... Sans food and water, but he'll get that later."

"I'm sorry, are we talking about a human or a Mabari?" The playful tone is there in Varric's voice but something else.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying, he's not a plaything, you just lock him in the tower and walk off."

Leto thinks about Varric's words but gives the shorter man a look of her own unconcern. "I'm aware he has feelings, thoughts, and many other things- but I'm not going to wait in the tower while he bathes when I can easily accomplish getting him new clothes so when he's done he doesn't have to wear his prison clothes."

To emphasize that, Leto walks them over to one of the vendors that has standard-looking shirts and pants. Pre-sewn for all the people who've joined the army so far, it's easier than sewing on the spot for the sheer amount of people.

"Shopping for him? Wife activities if I've ever seen, and coming from you?" Varric gives Leto a lively look. While she herself just hushes him.

"So you're going to say Mabari first and now he's my husband? Make up your mind."

"Hey, you said husband, not me."

Leto's mouth is in a line, causing Varric to grin and raise his eyebrows at her.

"No. No this is not like one of your novels, Hard in Hightown. We are not playing at any games, I literally just took him from the cells and am..."

"Caring for him."

"It's required, he can't exactly walk around freely and do it himself."

After that Varric does drop it, letting Leto pick out several outfits that'll last training sessions and a normal day in the Hold. Everything is folded and placed into a rucksack.

"Did you hear about Orlais?" They're walking back now and the change of subject is appreciated, so when Varric brings up Oralis she raises one eyebrow in curiosity.

"No? Well, that's not true, I heard about what happened with... Blackwall or Rainier... I don't know... How should we address him now?"

"He goes by his name now. Thom Rainier, since you know, The Inquisitor pardoned him. But no, that's not what I'm talking about."

Intrigued now, Leto gives Varric her full attention as they walk on, passing a few people who say hello.

"Something is broiling over there."

"Something is always happening with those people, it's their past time to be dramatic."

Varric concedes and does nod his head, but he pushes on.

"No, no, but there might be a big party in a few months and I hear The Inquisition might be invited."

Leto is unsure at this point whether to still be interested or not, she does like courtly intrigued but at the same time it brings up old memories and it dampens the fun. Her mother made her act like a noble once upon a time, or tried, which granted she was noble on her mother's side. But mostly Leto just felt like... Nothing really. Just herself.

"Oh? Who do you think Hestia will take with her?"

"If she could, probably all of us. Even you and Beatrice included. But I know the council will have to come: Ruffles, of course, Nightingale, and Curly. But I know for sure Buttercup."

They exchanged knowing looks at each other.

"... Saw them eating cookies together on the roof."

"See. That's the romance I like to see, simple pleasures."

The smile each of them has on their face is the warm gooey kind, yet they're each thinking about something different as they walk together. Companionable silence between them now.

[townofcadence]

"Yeah, exactly. I mean she might lose the smell or light if she lights the whole place up looking for you, but it'd be best not to rely on that." He nudges Butch with an elbow before peering inside the cave. "She reallyyyy did not like you, that's for sure."

But he sobers, on seeing the inside of that cavern beneath hanging vines. He can see the grey and brown walls built from shelves of sediment stone worn smooth, and the occasional hanging stalactite and rising stalagmite. He can see the remnants of things, trash or leftover effects of someone else being here, from the black burn of ash from old fires, to scraps of things like a forlorn sack, or an aged crate pulled near to pieces. The space looked like it hadn't been used in a long time, maybe even since Butch had, but it also looked like it saw a fair amount of use.

It was an old memory, seeing the dark depths of the path leading further in, and hearing the distant chittering of bats. That steady, wet drip, echoing in the cavern felt like it pelted him with shots of ice--his chest ached, skin tingling with a haunting crawl spindling down his neck, along his spine and arms. His throat felt dry as it scraped itself together in a swallow and his arms broke out in goosebumps, hairs rising. It's similar enough to twist his stomach into knots.

Butch enters, and he follows with stiff steps. He can do this. It's fine. It's fine.

His prosthetic clasps his own wrist in a bruising grip. It grounds him as he looks around. The laugh he gives is short, uneven and bouncy. "I've already had a bird caught in here once. Maybe I should just tie it up to be safe." His voice is equally uneven, though less notably so. He pushes out a laugh again, but only manages the one. "Though someone I know would probably swoon if I gave him a bat I caught in a hair -net. Guy loves them."

There's a beat of silence, and he can't stand it. He's starting to feel cold shivers. It's not the same. It's not, but it's close enough. His false fingers dig into his skin, pinching at the joints. He's cold, and his left hand is awfully numb. He needs---- something. There's scarce anything to look at that doesn't make things worse. But it's fine. It was the smart choice. His first meeting with this guy wasn't going to be him fucking having a meltdown over a hole in the ground.

"How did you even find this place?" He asks, looking hard at the remnants of others hiding here. "And like-- how old are you that you could've been here a hundred years ago? If you don't mind me asking."

Artair makes a fair point when he advises against setting up a fire; it would only draw attention to them after all. “Yer right, she’d prob’ly smell somethin’ burnin’.”

At the other man’s question as to how long it had been, he shrugs his shoulders. “Oh, I dunno…. Hundred or so years.” The cowboy responds casually, pushing some dangling vines aside in order to get a clearer view of the inside. He inspects the entrance just in case there’s another beast waiting for them before stepping inside. It wouldn’t be the first time. Thankfully, the coast is clear and the cave seems unoccupied for the most part save for some moss and bats that could be heard squeaking distantly somewhere deeper in the cave.

There’s just enough light trickling in from the setting sun to allow them to see what they were working with and the deeper the cave goes, the darker it gets. There’s a consistent sound of dripping water from somewhere within the cave, giving it an uncertain ambiance.

Butch walks himself inside and takes off his hat, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. “Careful with all that hair now, a bat might try t’make its new home in there. Heh.” He tells Artair mostly jokingly though he’s certainly had his fair share of bats attempt to take up residence in his hair.

[jlsadphoenix]

11, 24, 50, and 78 for the weird asks!

Thank you!

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Rarely eat breakfast, but if I’ve got cereal then that, occasionally I’ll cook instant noodles and eggs

24. favorite crystal?

Uhhh I know nothing about types of crystals and stones and stuff, so the only thing I can think of off the top of my head are quartz

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

So a lot of inside jokes stuff, but long story short my friends and I were running late to one of our school’s basketball games, we were in the finals, and because we’re members of the drumline (I think it’s a Philippines thing only?? But if you watch ncaa or uaap games and you can hear drums in the background, that’s what I’m talking about) we had to be there on time. But it happens that the game coincides with our final exams as well, so we had to finish our exams while the bus took everyone else in the drumline not in our grade and we had to take public transport to get to the arena as fast as we can.

So here’s a group of 18 teens in uniform jumping from train to train and speedwalking everywhere and we basically rented out a whole jeep. It certainly didn’t make me laugh at the time considering we were all stressed, but every time my friends and I talk about this, just the general chaoticness of the story, as well as the look on the driver’s face when he saw 18 people rushing towards him makes me laugh so hard, dude knew he was gonna make some money off of us

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Gas station coffee! Not sure if this is an american problem? But usually the convenience store coffee isn’t bad here actually, but maybe I’ve just got basic tastes

[sammyboyimagines]

A Friend From Work Pt. 3

Pairing: Older!Steve x afab!Reader

Summary: Reader spends a week away from her controlling father, and gives in to her lustful feelings for Steve Harrington. 3.5k words

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Not proofread, swearing, smut, protected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), pet names, shower sex, idk what else.

//requested by @its-quinns-bread

NOT PROOFREAD

By now, you've known Steve Harrington for a little more than 4 weeks between his frequent visits to help your father with work at home and this week you've spent with him. And your dad's friend was even better than you could have even imagined. You could hardly believe what you woke up to the night after you drove away with him: your tired body lying next to his.

Steve had called in for a week off of work, figuring that your dad would probably beat him to a pulp on sight. He also wanted a week free of interruptions, where he spend as much time with you as he wanted. No more stealing glances and hiding hard-ons.

You watched Steve's sleeping body next to yours. Today was Sunday, meaning you had almost spent a full week with him already. You admired how his hair was disheveled and spread across his face, covering the few tiny scars adorning his cheeks and forehead. You figured he probably got them from a few scraps when he was younger. Either way, he looked borderline angelic from the way the sunlight peeked through the sheer curtains. 

You were so focused on Steve's gorgeous appearance in the morning light. You had hardly noticed the fact that you were both naked underneath the sheets. You took a moment to breathe this in. His quiet breathing as he slept, his clothes mixed with yours on the floor, his warm body wrapped around yours, and your naked bodies.

Steve stirred from your movement in the bed. "Mm, good morning, sweetheart," he mumbled into his pillow as his hand rubbed your back gently. The gesture alone made your heart soar. 

You couldn't deny it. You were slowly falling for him. 

From the moment he brought you to his surprisingly large house, his affection for you had risen considerably. It all started on Tuesday, the first day you spent at his house. He let you sleep in, and you woke up to him cooking breakfast for the two of you. And after a large amount of begging, you agreed to let him take you on dates and care for you while you were there.

"You don't have to go! It's so lonely here, darling. And you're so so warm.." his hand stretched over your thigh, inching under your skirt. You spread your legs for him, making him chuckle. "See? You know you don't wanna leave. Not when I could give you everything." he slides under the table, pulling your body closer to him until your bare pussy was barely 5 inches from his face. "No panties? Dirty girl..." 

Now it was Sunday, and you'd spend every minute with your father's hot best friend. You couldn't be happier. "Y/n, sweetheart. Do you want to go out to dinner with me tonight? Wear that little black dress I got for you?" his words made memories flash into your mind.

Wednesday, he went shopping with you at the mall. He could hardly contain himself in the dressing room when you modeled several lingerie pieces for him. "We're going straight home after this and I'm gonna ruin every single one of those pieces you got," he whispered in your ear, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against your ass.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to wear that red lingerie you liked so much." you arose from your spot on his bed and stretched. He chuckles. "Do that and we might not be leaving the house, sweetheart." he walked to the bathroom.

Before you could walk out of the room, he grabbed your arm and pulled you against his body. "Mm, shower with me." he kissed your neck softly, his hands roaming over your body before stopping to play with your tits. "We could save water, babe. And I miss you.." he mumbles tiredly against your skin. You laughed at him.

"Miss me? Steve, you were just sleeping next to me!" you put your hands in his, making his heart melt. "Miss being inside of you.." you blushed at his statement.

You hummed and swayed with Steve gently. "I miss you too." he chuckles and leads you to the shower, his hand in yours. 

Steve was very enthusiastic about holding your hand. Holding you close at all times, whether it be walking across the street or watching a movie in his home. You had both ignored the phone that rang several times a day, knowing it was from your furious dad. 

The only time you picked up the phone was a few days into your week with Steve. He was between your legs, his attention fully averted to feeling you cum on his mouth. Then the phone rang. He pulled away with a loud sigh. As much as he enjoyed hearing your sweet little moans, he wanted to make sure everything was okay. The phone had already rang 6 times. "God, can he just leave us alone! Answer it, baby. Try not to make a lot of noise.." he winks at you before lowering his head back down to continue his work.

You whimper and answer the phone. "Hi dad, do you need something?" you tried to quiet your heavy breathing as Steve relentlessly ate you out, his tongue sucking at your clit as he entered two fingers into you. He curled his fingers slightly, smirking as your body began to tremble.

"Y/n, you have to come home now! What are you even thinking?! He's a friend from my work. You can't just run away with him!" Your dad was struggling to find ways to convince you to get far away from Steve Harrington. You were hardly listening, the feeling of heat pooling as Steve fingered you at a fast pace while he licked your pussy distracted you.

"Are you even listening?!" your dad shouted through the phone. You were covering your mouth at his point, so close to your orgasm that you thought you'd scream right into the phone. Steve growled to himself and stopped his actions, making you whine.

"Listen, we're a little busy right now, buddy. You have terrible timing.." he chuckles to himself. This was the second time your dad had interrupted you. You weren't having any of it, though. You were grinding against Steve's fingers, which were still inside you, thrusting in and out. 

You let out a whiny moan before your mind could catch up, making you quickly cover your mouth. Your dad grew furious. "Don't show your face in here or I will make sure you're fired, asshole," he yelled into the phone.

"Yeah, I didn't plan on going to work, thanks though. Talk to you later, buddy." he laughs into the phone as he hangs up. "You just couldn't keep quiet, huh sweetheart?" he smiles and goes back to eating you out with fervor. That was Thursday.

Now you were in the shower with Steve, your last day at his house before he had to go back to work. "You're really fun, you know that? Shame your father never told me he had a hot daughter. We really made up for lost time, didn't we?" he smiled as his hands traveled along your body, his movements sensual and soft.

"I waited days for you to make a move, Steve. You were scared of my dad." you teased him, hearing him huff behind you. The hot water warmed your skin as you both stood near the showerhead. "Oh sweetheart, I was never scared of your father. Just wanted to look at you for a while before I tried anything," he says, lying through his teeth. 

You laughed. "Uh huh, is that why you were sneaking glances when my dad wasn't looking?" you press against his front, making him grab your hips in return. He tsked you, "Hey! I thought this was a nice romantic shower. You don't want me to be all worked up before we even get to eat dinner..." his wet hair tickled your shoulder as he kissed your neck. "So desperate for me, so dirty.." his hand cups your pussy, making you jolt a little.

"Mm, and responsive. You're so perfect for me, sweetheart." he smiles and starts to circle your clit with one finger. "I guess I can give my girl a little attention before we leave.." he smirks when you nod. "Please Steve...we can be quick.." he shushed your pleading moans with a finger to your lips. "Shh be a good girl and let me help you, can't have my needy girl teasing me at dinner. That's my job." he pressed two fingers into your cunt, making your legs go weak and your mind go numb.

"Please I need you.." you whined and pressed yourself against him. As much as he adored the feeling of your body on his, he just wanted to make you feel good. He'd get his way with you later anyway.

"I'll be okay, baby. Just let me make you feel good..." his hand was reaching around your waist, pumping two fingers into you at a fast pace. Your legs shook underneath your weight from the waves of pleasure rushing through you. "Shit-are you sure?" you could hardly form a thought as you moaned his name desperately.

"I'm sure, sweetheart. I'll fuck you good tonight, wanna save my energy..." he chuckles. "You're shaking, sweetheart. You like this, huh? You like when I fuck you with my fingers, baby?" he teases you, making you whimper. 

"I'm so fucking close Steve.." your head tilted back with a loud moan, resting on his body behind you. "Good girl, cum on my fingers." he urges you, adding another finger in an attempt to get you there. You were on the edge, your moans echoing off the shower walls, overlapping with the sound of the running water. By now, the water was getting cold. 

"Mmm, I can feel you're close, baby. C'mon, give it to me, come for me." he was basically holding you up at this point. Your legs had practically given out from the immense pleasure, and your eyes rolled back. One of his hands fondled your tits, groaning at the feeling of your soft skin under the warm water.

"Shit, I wish we could stay like this forever. You're so fucking perfect," he mumbles. "You're so gorgeous, your pretty little moans sound so damn good." he loved pleasing you, relishing in the feeling of having you to himself finally. He loved to feel you shaking, falling apart from his doing.

With a loud moan, your orgasm ripped through you. Steve slowly thrusts his fingers, helping you ride it out. "You have no idea how hot that was." he chuckles.

After finishing your shower with Steve, he helped you back to his bed. You put on the lingerie that he bought for you. Turns out, your dad's best friend was also pretty wealthy.

You slip on the little black dress you got while you were out shopping with him. The neckline perfectly showcased your tits, making Steve's mouth water. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on them, sucking bruises onto the soft skin of your boobs.

"You look delicious in that, sweetheart.." he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a soft kiss. Steve had been very romantic and soft the whole week, holding your hand, cuddling you in bed, helping you with your needs, everything. The dress framed your body perfectly. It fit snugly against you, but it was comfortable enough for a night out with Steve. 

Steve patiently watched you get ready, do your makeup how you liked, fix your hair, and whatever small touches you needed. "I can't wait to take that fucking dress off of you, princess. You're so beautiful." 

It sounded ironic, but Steve Harrington wasn't like the other guys you've dated. For one, he was considerably older but you didn't mind it. He was sweeter, he appreciated your presence more than other men. And he had a solid, well-paying job. 

Steve had been single for a while, much too busy to spend time looking for a woman, until he took your dad's offer and visited his house. Even though your father didn't approve of it even for a second, Steve felt like there was a chemistry that simply couldn't be ignored.

"I'm sorry about my dad, Steve. I didn't know he'd be this defensive. He's never been this protective over me before. I'm sorry you're being harassed by him." you felt terrible for Steve. You knew he'd have to avoid your father like the plague if he was going to survive a week at work. 

"Hey, don't apologize. I made my decision, and I'm proud of it. Once he sees how well I treat you, I'm sure he'll change his mind." he stands up and you can feel his presence behind you without even looking. He plants a kiss on your forehead. "I don't care what he thinks. Don't feel bad princess, you've done nothing." he smiled at you through the mirror. "Ready to go?"

You gave him a shy nod, still not feeling fully convinced that this wasn't your fault. Steve noticed, but he decided to drop it, wanting to change the subject and cheer you up. "Let's enjoy our night, sweetheart. You look too beautiful right now to be upset. Fix that pouty face." he held your face in his hands before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

At dinner, Steve could hardly keep his hands off of you. Even with the waiter standing right next to you, Steve's hand held your thigh firmly. You weren't sure whether it was to show everyone you're his, or if he just wanted to have a hand on you. You still felt a pang of guilt in your stomach, Steve didn't deserve to be worried about your father.

"Darling, what's on your mind?" he looked at you, concerned. "I just feel bad that you have to deal with him. I know you're scared of him." you heard him chuckle. 

"Honey, I'm not scared of being beaten up by your father. I'm worried he's gonna pull some strings and have me fired for something stupid. No offense, but your dad would stoop that low." you knew your father, he would absolutely use his connections to get Steve fired if he deemed it necessary.

"None of this is your fault, and I don't care what happens. However, I do care about you." he smiles, giving you a little more comfort. A smile grew on your face as Steve squeezed your hand in his. "There's that beautiful smile." 

Dinner went smoothly, Steve's hand rubbing your thigh in a comforting way. Now you were on your way back to his house. "I really like you, I don't want this to be just a fling. I hope you know that." he blurts out, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

You laughed at his bluntness. "Me too, Steve. You're better than any guy I've been with. Don't let that go to your head." you smile. "Already have, sweetheart."

As soon as you walked in the door, Steve couldn't help himself. His hands roamed over your body, feeling you up. He locked the front door and gently shoved you against the wall. "So fucking sexy in this little black dress. You have no idea how hard it was not to take you in the bathroom." he was kissing your neck, his breaths frantic as he tried to slip the dress off of you.

His eyes widened at the sight of your lingerie underneath your snug dress. "Holy shit you're gonna be the death of me, Y/n." he chuckles and takes a step back to admire the way you look in the dim light of his living room.

You felt confident under his gaze. He wasn't judging, creepy, or sex-hungry like other men you've been with. He was romantic, sweet, and wanted you for you, not for your body. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra with one hand, his mouth immediately finding the soft skin of your tits, kissing them, and leaving hickeys and bruises.

"Jesus you're so hot, so soft." he groans against you. Steve was desperate at this point. He had held back all day, and now all the lust and feelings were pouring out of him. You moaned, your hands fingering through his thick soft hair. 

He unbuttons his shirt and slips his pants off. "You're like a dream, baby." he leads you over to the couch, pulling you into his lap and humming at the feeling of your clothed pussy over his boxers. He holds you closer, grinding your hips onto his, Steve's dick pressed right against your heat. You whimper at the small buzz of pleasure. "More Steve, please.." you hum.

"Mmm, take these off." he ignored your pleading as you obeyed, taking off your lacy panties and throwing them on the floor as if they were worth nothing. Steve took his off in return. "C'mere, sweetheart." he laid you down next to him and crawled on top of you slowly. "I can't keep my hands off you. Shit, you're so wet. Is that for me, baby?" he smirks when you give him a shy nod.

He runs a finger through your pussy, bringing it to his lips and tasting you. "Use your words, princess." he watched you squirm as his hand cupped your pussy, "Yes Steve! It's all for you, please please fuck me!" you were begging him now. From this morning in the shower to this moment, you had been waiting all day for him to stuff you full with his cock. He chuckles as he slips a condom on his dick.

"Since you asked so nicely, baby." he pushed in, slowly fully sheathing himself inside your warm tight pussy. He groans as his eyes roll back. "God you're so tight baby, don't ever want to give you up." he was being honest, he didn't want to bring you back home. Not after he's fucked you silly every day of the week thus far.

"Fuck you're so big, please I need it.." you were begging for him to fuck you so hard you couldn't walk the next day. "Yeah? You're so needy for my cock, baby. I'll fuck this pretty pussy of yours if you don't hide those gorgeous moans from me. I wanna hear them." he was absentmindedly thrusting slowly, you were losing your mind, wanting him to go all out.

He spread your legs further, pressing kisses to your calf before putting your leg on his shoulder. He started his actions, fucking you hard just like you wanted. You were so deep in pleasure that you could hardly think of anything besides his cock practically splitting you in two as you moaned his name repeatedly.

"Yeah? Do you like this sweetheart? You make such pretty noises, don't hold anything back. I want all of you." he mumbled in your ear, trying to focus on not coming too early. It was taking all his patience not to spill early. "Fuck, keep squeezing me like that, and I might not last long, sweetheart. Relax for me." 

You could barely comprehend his words, his cock fucking you senseless. Your eyes were rolled into the back of your head as he leaned forward to kiss your breasts. Steve loved your tits more than any other part of you. Other than your personality, of course. Normally, he would build up to this moment. He'd have you sit on his face, or finger you, or some other kind of foreplay to get you ready for him. But today he just couldn't wait.

"Fuck please tell me you're close, I need it, baby. Please cum for me." he was begging at this point. He'll be damned if he came before feeling your walls clamp down on his dick as you screamed his name with your orgasm. 

"God yes Steve I'm so fucking close, please don't stop!!" your legs were shaking against Steve's hard thrusts into your tired pussy. "Come for me, baby. I wanna feel your tight little pussy squeezing me, wanna hear you come undone for me. Shit, you're fucking shaking, that good huh? Come for me please, sweetheart." he was just rambling at this point. He was drunk off the feeling of your soaking warm pussy and your addictive moans and whimpers filling the air.

His words had you gasping for air as your orgasm ripped through you. "Good girl, good fucking girl. Just like that.." he groaned as his hips stuttered while he spilled into the condom, his hands gripping your hips so hard there would be bruises for sure.

You both rode out your orgasms. "Can't believe you're leaving tomorrow, wanna keep you here with me." he pulled out, getting comfortable with you on the couch. 

"Maybe I could visit, you have a really nice house." he gasped, faking offense. "Is that all you want me for? My house? I'm hurt, sweetheart." you laugh at his antics. 

"And here I thought you were with me for my personality." he teases. You roll your eyes and look at the aftermath of your moment of passion. A wet spot on the couch and clothing spread out all over the floor. 

"Yeah, well you're pretty cute too I guess."