#is a pretty long time to be friends with someone

[novelistwriter]

Retired Phantom

DP x DC Prompt

There is a new teacher at Gotham Academy. Mr. Nightingale is someone who has a mostly clean record. The only stains on his record is being the son to two villains who have been put behind bars and being under a witness protection program to one Vlad Masters.

He was hired because Gotham Academy is in need of not only a Chemistry Teacher and an Engineering Teacher as well, so he will be paid double the amount of money because of him filling two roles.

The students of Gotham Academy are waiting to see if Mr. Nightingale will become a Rogue of Gotham or move on to following his parents' footsteps elsewhere with becoming a Villain to a different Hero.

What the students of Gotham Academy weren't expecting of Mr. Nightingale is that he's a pretty good guy. He's understanding of the students, doesn't give a lot of extra homework to do, and is always bringing snacks for hungry students, including vegan snacks for one Damian Wayne and other vegan students. The only anomaly to Mr. Nightingale is that he is constantly taking eyedrops every hour.

Danny is living pretty okay right now. His friends have moved out of Amity before him to pursue their dreams. They do keep in contact, but collage life keeps them busy. His parents were arrested by the Justice League, and the GIW was disbanded by the Justice League as well. Vlad couldn't get custody of Danny because of both Jazz and the Justice League listening to him about not wanting to be with Vlad. So he's living with his sister until he's old enough to live on his own.

Of course, Vlad wouldn't give up. He kept trying as Plasmius to get him to join the Fruitloop. As soon as Danny got his teaching license, something he wanted other than becoming an astronaut, he and Vlad had engaged in a battle that led to the Fruitloops Castle. The battle lasted a long time, both Halfa's badly hurt, but Danny most of all, as he may be the Prince of the Infinite Realms, but he doesn't have the Crown of Flames or the Ring of Rage to help him. His Ghost Half sustained a lot of damage, with the only injury that transferred to his human half was the burns to his eyes. This is how the Justice League found Danny in Vlad's Castle (as a human and not Phantom), Jazz had called the Justice League because Danny wasn't back yet. Now, he's got to take special eyedrops provided by Frostbite to help his human eyes heal and to help his Ghost Hlaf eyes heal as well.

He was put under witness protection for his safety, and considering that he's living in Gotham, he's got Montoya, some other trusted GCPD officers, and a Bat constantly with him. He's given up on being a hero, as becoming the Prince to the Infinite Realms has overwritten his Ghostly obsession to become the King when he's of age. The only downside is that the Bats and the Justice League are asking around for Phantom. He doesn't want to involve himself in anymore Hero matters, but that will change as he gets more involved with the Wayne family.

[intromortal]

ꕥ MAKE YOU MINE ⸻ lee heeseung

lee heeseung doesn't do relationships or any of that 'labels' stuff, it's a known fact. yet when jay's gaze lingers too long on you, he can't help but leave his mark on you in one way or another

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. jealousy, p in v, creampie, no protection, manhandling, name calling, degradation!!! hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you, kinda toxic situationship thing going on, Feelings, reader is kinda crazy but also i've had too much caffeine today So ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 1.8k words

Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially anywhere public.

Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression ever so slightly shifts to something he would describe as needy when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.

It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing for you as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends—though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place—but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, even when you know it's terrible for you.

And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.

He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss at the end of the night when you've both found your way between the bed sheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.

Yet he can't find any explanation—one that he’d make peace with, that is—for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you are, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.

Mostly because he doesn't want to admit what it really is. Lee Heeseung is the furthest thing from a relationship-kind-of-guy you could possibly ever find, and it's always been this way, everyone knows.

To fuck with him is to make peace with the fact that you'll never be anything more than someone to warm his bed—or car backseats more often than not. And most are okay with that as long as they get their hands on a piece of him, no matter for how short. You were okay with that too, at the very start. It just doesn't help that lately he has fucked you like he loves and hates you at the same time, and while you try your best to not let his empty calculated affections tie you down to him too much, it's gotten harder and harder to escape the literal black hole Heeseung is.

You promised yourself to only orbit around him for a bit, then escape at the first pull you feel is too strong. But here you are, on the event horizon anyway.

His lingering stares whenever Jay is around don't go unnoticed by you, far from it actually. And maybe you even play into it a little too much, because here you are, underneath Heeseung, and for the first time in weeks he's fucking you like love is the furthest feeling possible from both his mind and heart.

It's funny, how he's tried to maintain his cool around you so desperately, and what finally breaks him is Jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.

Except you're not his girl—he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to possibly be until then—so he can't do that. But what he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy.

"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.

You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully into your cheeks to force you to look at him. "For. What?"

"I– fuck, i don't know."

He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.

"Yes, you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream rips out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."

He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster and harsher than the one you could barely keep up with earlier. "Wanted  Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"

"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours with a harsh thrust, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.

Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.

It doesn't matter that you two will still not put a label on whatever you have going on after this, Heeseung will find a way to mark you up with his actions instead. He'll fuck you so good even in the off chance you give Jay a chance all you'll think about is gonna be going back to him right after.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."

And it doesn't matter for you either you realize, a fucked out smile spreading on your face as he takes you like he has never done before, because to get a reaction out of the ever so collected Lee Heeseung, it means you have made him your bitch as much as he has made you his. He just doesn't know it yet.

The sudden thought is so euphoric it pushes you close to the edge instantly, your cunt clenching around him more and more while Heeseung is behind you wondering why he just heard a giggle leave your throat in the midst of it all.

"Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?" His voice is rough, but the hint of uneasiness behind the facade is easy to pick up on, it only spurs you to laugh more—as much as you can manage, because soon his thrusts get angrier and you don't know if you're laughing, crying or moaning anymore.

You taste the salty tears running straight into your open mouth, and you don't exactly know why you're crying because you have never felt lighter, even with the harsh, repeated press of Heeseung's hips against your red, marked up flesh.

Heeseung thinks you must've gone delirious on his cock, the proof being the very white ring you're leaving on the base of his cock, and while his chest blooms and tickles with something unfamiliar to him, he can't help but want even more. He wants to give you even more.

He doesn't recall when this punishment he's inflicting on you turned around to him chasing your approval so fucking bad, but he can't stop. He can't stop himself from gawking at your bent back littered in his marks, he can't stop himself from bending down to mouth at your neck when all he initially wanted to do was put you back in your place, he can't stop himself from letting his hand find your familiar little bundle of nerves to roll circles on it.

He tells himself it's not for you, it's for him, so he can hear all the divine noises you're making for just a little longer, just enough to reach his orgasm.

His lips brush your nape again, and he wishes he hadn't turned you over so he could taste your laugh right off your lips. He almost opens his mouth to say something he might regret, but he stops himself with a low, guttural moan and a stripe licked on your skin instead.

Neither of you last long after that, and you come with shudder around him, cunt milking him for all he has, all he is worth. He gives it all to you, filling you up so well it has you clawing the sweaty bed sheets beneath you.

You're glowing underneath him as he gets off of you, and Heeseung doesn't want to linger on the fact that his chest cavity, where his heart is supposed to be, glows just as much for you. It's a scary thought.

"You're mine," you whisper, like you've finally cracked the code to something you couldn't wrap your head around for the longest. You state it like a fact, like how you do when you say things commonly agreed upon—like the earth being round and Sim Jaeyun having the prettiest dick on campus.

You don't turn to Heeseung when he says nothing after and all that fills the room is the swooshing of his clothes being collected from the floor and your front door shutting with a soft thud.

It doesn't matter, because whether he likes it or now, you know he has nowhere to go if not back to you.

[starlightswitch]

@flashfictionfridayofficial I've been sitting on this prompt for a while.

Corey’s phone went off and he checked it automatically. It was from Levi. A text. A long text.

If you’re reading this, that means I’m gone. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this way. You’ve been the best friend I could have asked for, the best friend I’ve ever had. Thank you.

It felt so sincere he expected Levi to actually be gone when he looked up.

But someone was still standing next to him, and when he looked up it was still Levi, leaning slightly on the railing, one hand wrapped loosely around the glass sitting on the thin strip of table. “What’s up?” said Levi. Then, reacting to whatever expression was on Corey’s face, “What? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“…are you a ghost?” said Corey.

“What?”

Corey moved closer to show him the phone, their shoulders overlapping as Levi leaned in.

“Shit,” Levi said in a slow whisper.

He did not sound confused. He did not sound surprised. He sounded dismayed.

He knew what this was. He was only sorry Corey had seen it now.

Corey looked at him, kept looking at him even though Levi wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What do you mean, gone?”

Levi’s mouth opened but no words came out.

“Talk to me!” said Corey. “What does this mean?”

Presumably, eventually, realizing Corey was just going to keep staring at him until he said something, Levi said in a tight whisper, “You weren’t supposed to get it yet.”

“Obviously.”

“My dumb ass set it for 3PM instead of 3AM.”

“You were going to text me at 3AM to tell me that you were gone? The fuck?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Levi mumbled.

“I’m the best friend you’ve ever head and you were going to do who knows what in the dead of night and I would never see you again and you don’t even want to talk about it?”

“Ssh!” Levi threw a frightened glance at the patio below.

Corey hadn’t realized his voice had risen so much. He lowered it. “What am I supposed to think?”

“You’re not supposed to know about it,” said Levi.

“Until you…”

“It’s not what you think. At least, what I think you think.”

“Well, are you going to tell me what it is? Or are you not the friend you thought you were?” If he’d thought a second longer he might not have worded that so harshly, but it was out and it was how he felt. He took a long drink and tried to think of what to do if Levi didn’t answer him. Thought about walking away, and tried to decide if he could really do it.

Levi leaned in again, just a little. “You cannot tell anyone, understand? I’m not supposed to tell anyone. No one is supposed to know. If you know, it will be obvious who told you.”

“Tell anyone what?”

“I’m not who you think I am.” Levi winced. “Entirely. I haven’t been acting different and I’ve never lied—just not told you things—but my name is not what you think it is.”

Now that Corey thought about it, he could think of more than a couple times that Levi had dodged away from telling him things. Like where he was from and where he’d worked before here. Why he’d moved here when he didn’t know anybody around here.

“And now I have to go. And I can’t tell you why.”

“Not when you’ve told me this much?”

Levi laughed weakly. “I haven’t told you much.”

Corey looked up, thinking. “Could you tell me if I came with you?”

Levi looked at him so hard that Corey looked him in the eye, and Levi’s eyes held his, deeply serious. “Do you really want to do that? Have no one know where you went? Never say goodbye, or say it and not tell them why?”

There was a spark of something in his eyes. Corey was pretty sure it was hope.

“If you do—and I’m not saying you should.” Levi looked away as he said that. “Then meet me here tonight. Late. Bring some clothes and be ready to go.”

Corey didn’t say he would do it. He couldn’t really imagine just leaving like that.

But then, he couldn’t imagine letting Levi go, never knowing where, never knowing why.

Your best friend has left their last message for you, lamenting that they are no longer in this world should you receive that last message. It would have been emotional and tragic, had said friend not standing next to you, alive and in good health.

[steveseddie]

clarity

written for @steddiebingo hop into spring mini event | prompt: first time | rating: e | wc: 2,9k | no cw | tags: minor steve/male character, feelings realization, friends to lovers, first time, frottage, hand jobs

read on ao3

Steve hoped that coming here would clear some things up for him. It’s why he suggested driving to Indy and going to a queer bar when Robin said she wanted to do something fun for the weekend.

Of course, Steve told her it was so she could meet a cute girl. He never said he wanted to find a cute boy to try to figure out some things about himself. As far as she knows, he’s just being a supportive friend, that’s all.

Only now that Robin has disappeared into the dance floor with a pretty brunette, leaving Steve alone by the bar, he can stop scanning the crowd for girls that Robin might be into and start looking for guys that he might like. Because that’s the question Steve is trying to answer– whether or not he’s into guys.

A few of them catch his eye, but that doesn’t clear anything up– Steve has always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he sees one. That doesn’t mean he’s attracted to them, just that he has eyes. Or at least that’s what he thought until he asked Robin if everyone else did that. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

“I don’t,” Robin said after thinking it over for maybe two seconds.

“No?”

“Nope, like, I know what most girls find hot, but I’ll look at those guys on posters and magazines and I just think they’re– eh,” she said, sending Steve into a spiral for the rest of their shift.

Maybe that’s what he’s doing here, he thinks. Maybe those hot guys are just guys he thinks girls would like. Maybe it doesn’t say anything about him.

He has almost convinced himself of this when he makes eye contact with a guy leaning against the bar. When he smirks at Steve and starts to approach, he feels less sure about it. 

He’s seen guys try to hit on Robin a few times, and he’s seen firsthand the uncomfortable and panicked reaction that comes with being approached by someone you’re not interested in at all.

That’s not what Steve is feeling right now.

He’s panicking a little, yes, but his stomach is also flip-flopping in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant.

It reminds Steve of how he feels when he’s with–

“Hey, darling,” the guy says, sliding into the stool next to Steve’s.

The pet name throws him for a loop, and he blushes. “Hi, uh, hey.”

“First time here?” The guy asks, giving him an obvious once-over.

“Yeah, I’m here with a friend. She’s– she’s dancing.”

The guy cocks his head, grinning. “Do you want to dance too?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He lets the guy drag him to the dancefloor, lets him put his hands on his waist after guiding Steve’s arms so they wrap around his neck. They’re pushed against each other by the people moving around them, and Steve’s stomach flip-flops again when their chests and hips press together.

Maybe his plan was a good idea. This does clear some things up.

Turns out Steve is into guys. Huh.

He’s definitely into dancing with someone as tall as he is, and he’s into big hands gripping his waist and the scratch of stubble when they move closer and their cheeks press together.

He’d probably be into kissing this guy, grinding against him, dragging him back to his car for more–

Or at least he would if his mind didn’t keep drifting to someone else– the reason why, after years of blissfully ignoring this part of himself, Steve finally decided to explore it.

Eddie. And Steve’s now confirmed crush on him.

He can’t help but think about him when the guy’s warm hands sneak under his shirt, wondering if Eddie’s would feel cold because of his rings. When Steve’s hand tries to tangle in the hairs at the back of the guy’s neck, he’s a little disappointed when he doesn’t find soft, long curls to grab onto. When the guy starts to lean in, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, Steve wishes he could be staring into big brown eyes instead.

“Shit, uh, sorry, I–” Steve stammers out, placing a hand on the guy’s chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks, pulling away.

Steve brushes his hair back. “I can’t– it’s just– there’s this guy–”

“Ah, did you come here to try to forget about him?” The guy asks, he seems a little disappointed, and Steve can’t blame him for that, but at least he’s also giving him a sympathetic smile.

It’s probably what makes Steve want to tell him the truth. "No, I– I came here to try and figure out if I really like him. He’s my friend, I don’t want to hurt him if I’m just– confused, you know?”

“Are you? Confused?”

“No,” Steve says without hesitation. There’s that clarity he came looking for. “I do like him.”

“Well,” the guy says, squeezing Steve’s hip. “You should tell him that.”

With that, he walks away. Steve leaves the dance floor and heads back to the bar. His spot is no longer available, but it’s fine; he feels like getting some fresh air anyway. He scans the crowd, looking for Robin, and finds her still dancing with the same girl. When their eyes meet, Steve gestures towards the door to let her know where he’ll be, getting a thumbs up in return before her attention returns to the pretty brunette.

Shouldering his way outside, Steve steps out into an empty alley. He’s only been there for a few seconds when the door opens behind him and someone else walks out.

“Stevie!”

The flash of panic he feels at being recognized in a place like this is quickly replaced by a fluttery feeling when he recognizes the voice.

He turns around and sees Eddie, and when his breath catches in his throat as he takes him in, from the eyeliner and the cropped shirt he’s wearing to the bright smile he’s flashing at him, Steve feels a little stupid for ever doubting he was into him.

“Hey, Eds,” he says with a little finger wiggle.

“I knew it was you! I’d recognize that Farrah Fawcett hair anywhere,” he says, and Steve remembers he needs to make Henderson pay for spilling that one. “But I gotta say, Stevie, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Steve could say the same thing. Eddie might be the reason why Steve even knows about this place, but he never said he was planning to come here anytime soon. He didn’t even tell Steve he was driving to the city!

Then again, Steve didn’t say anything either.

“Well, Rob wanted to do something fun, and we remembered you mentioned this place– She’s inside, dancing with a girl.”

Eddie whistles. “Get it, Buckley!" He says, and Steve chuckles. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Did you dance too? Pretty boy like you must’ve gotten quite a few invitations,” he says with a wink that makes Steve feel warm all over.

“Oh, uh, yeah, there was this guy,” Steve says, noticing the way Eddie’s finger tightens around the pack of cigarettes in his hand. “We danced for a while until–”

“Until the guy got handsy and you had to tell him you’re straight and only here to support your lesbian friend?”

Steve thinks about the guy he danced with, the reason why he turned him down, how he urged Steve to tell Eddie, and he thinks about the jealous tilt he can hear in Eddie’s voice right now–

“That’s not the only reason why I’m here actually,” Steve says, which makes Eddie pause in the middle of lighting a cigarette. “I– I thought this was a good place to figure some things out.”

“What things?” Eddie asks, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He realizes that the hand that’s holding the lighter is suspended mid-air and brings it to the end of the cig, flicking it and lighting it up, taking a quick drag–

Only to start coughing when Steve says, “Whether or not I’m into guys.”

“You– what?” Eddie sputters in between coughs. “Uh, I didn’t know– uh, did you– did you figure it out?”

Steve’s lips twitch at the hopeful yet cautious look on Eddie’s face. “I did.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Good, good, that’s– but you know, you didn’t have to come to Indy, Stevie. I could’ve helped,” he says before his eyes widen and he starts shaking his head frantically. “Not like– not like that! You know, like, talking since I’m into guys myself.”

Steve smiles amusedly at Eddie. It was his own feelings that Steve needed clarity on, not Eddie’s, because Eddie always wears his heart on his sleeve. Or rather, his face. Right now, he looks hopeful but a little scared, so Steve decides to make things easier for him.

Anticipation runs through him as he moves closer, pressing Eddie against the alley wall. “I couldn’t talk to you about this.”

“Um, why not?” Eddie mumbles, his eyes widening as Steve presses closer.

“Because I was also trying to figure out if I’m into you.”

Eddie curses under his breath. “And are– are you?”

Lips curling into a grin, Steve reaches for the cigarette between Eddie’s lips and puts it out against the brick wall before letting it fall to the floor.

Then he grabs hold of Eddie’s neck and surges forward, pressing their mouths together. Eddie makes a surprised noise but starts kissing back instantly, his hands settling on Steve’s waist. He shivers when the cold metal of his rings comes in contact with his skin, where Steve’s shirt rides up, much like he figured it would be like.

Steve’s hand shifts to the back of Eddie’s neck where it grabs a handful of hair, fingers tangling in the soft curls. He gives them a playful tug, angling Eddie’s head a little better so he can deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back so they can catch their breath, his gaze meets Eddie’s big, doe eyes, blown and a little darker than usual.

Steve is so glad he waited for this to be the first time he kissed a guy. For Eddie to be the first guy he ever kissed.

He’s also the second, and the third, and the fourth– and after that, Steve loses count. One kiss mingling with the next as they make out against the wall.

“Is this– did the guy you danced with– did you kiss him too? Is that how you–” Eddie mumbles between biting Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth.

“No, he was going to, but I stopped him,” Steve admits, trailing kisses down Eddie’s neck. “He was hot, but all I could think about was you– doing this with you.”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, and then he’s shoving Steve’s back against the brick wall, switching their positions. “Stevie– Jesus, I’ve thought about doing this for so long, sweetheart. I hoped, but I can’t believe–”

Steve shuts him up by hitching up his leg and hooking it around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer. It brings their hips together, and he feels that Eddie is hard in his jeans. Steve isn’t far behind either.

“Motherfucker–” Eddie curses with a wounded noise when their erections brush together. “Stevie, as embarrassing as it sounds, I’m gonna cream my fucking pants if we don’t slow down.”

Eddie’s words do the opposite of what he intended. They urge Steve on, making heat pool in his stomach. He grinds against Eddie again.

“Fuck, Steve, we’re– are you sure you don’t want to– oh fuck, go somewhere else?”

Steve shakes his head. “I know you’ve hooked up here before,” he says, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders for leverage so he can keep rutting against him. “One time when we got drunk you told me and I– fuck, Eddie, I was so jealous. I thought I was just pent up and annoyed that you were getting any and I wasn’t, but– fuck, I was jealous of the guys who got to do this with you.”

“Oh my God, Steve, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Eddie gives in and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, matching the movement of his hips.

“I wanted it to be me, Eds. I wanted it to be me who jerked you off, who– who sucked you off,” he admits, tugging on Eddie’s hair, making him whine against his neck. “Fuck, Eddie. Wanted to be the one you fucked.”

It’s the last part that drags a strangled moan from Eddie and makes his hips stutter, his entire body shuddering as he comes in his jeans.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve,” Eddie pants as he comes down. Steve is painfully hard and twitching in his jeans so he does his best to move them so he can get friction from Eddie’s stomach without grinding against his overly sensitive dick.

“Eddie, Eds–” He moans because making Eddie come in his pants is probably the hottest thing Steve has ever done, and while the friction feels good, he needs more if he’s going to come.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, his lips brushing against Steve’s neck, pressing kisses against his pulse point.

“Touch me,” Steve pleads and feels Eddie grin.

“I got you, big boy,” he whispers, letting go of Steve’s waist and pushing one hand between them. He undoes Steve’s pants and reaches inside his underwear to pull out Steve’s cock, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a few strokes, which are almost enough to make Steve lose his balance.

Because Eddie’s hand is big and his fingers are rough and calloused, but they move expertly, and they feel so good. Steve doesn’t think he’s going to last.

“God, Eddie, I– I’m close,” he stammers out soon enough, his voice breaking when Eddie thumbs at the slit.

“Already, sweetheart?” He asks, half-teasing and half-awed.

If Steve’s brain wasn’t melting out of his ears he’d make a bitchy comment about not coming in his jeans at least this but he can barely string two words together as it is.

“Y–yeah, please, Eds,” He whines brokenly when Eddie speeds up his hand, pleasure building up almost painfully. “Oh, fuck!” He moans as he topples over the edge, his knees buckling as he comes all over Eddie’s hand.

Eddie has Steve pinned against the brick wall, which is probably the only reason why he doesn’t collapse to the ground after his legs stop working. Resting his head back against the rough surface, he tries to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Eddie reaches into his back pocket for his bandana and uses it to clean his hand before tucking Steve back into his underwear and zipping up his pants.

It’s still blatantly obvious what the two of them were up to– their hair is sticking every which way, their faces are flushed, and their clothes are a mess, not to mention there’s a wet spot in the front of Eddie’s jeans. But at least this way, they won’t get arrested for public indecency if anyone decides to step out into the alley for a smoke. It’s already a miracle no one has walked through the door yet. They really should go before anyone does.

“We should head back inside,” Steve says, playing with a lock of Eddie’s hair.

“Er, you go ahead. I’m–” He gestures at the front of his pants, and Steve bites down on a laugh. “Hopefully I’ve got a change of clothes in the van or it’s gonna be a very uncomfortable drive home.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly.

Something hot flashes across Eddie’s face, and he cups Steve’s jaw. “Fucking worth it,” he says with a low voice and a wink.

Steve wants to kiss him again, but if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop, and he really needs to head back inside–

“I gotta find Rob, we should be heading back too,” he says, averting his eyes from Eddie’s tempting pink lips.

“Think she got lucky too?” He says with a ridiculous eyebrow waggle.

Steve cocks his head. “Is that why you came here? To get lucky?”

Eddie shrugs, tugging a lock of hair across his face. “I thought– I figured it was a good way to get my mind off– well, you, Stevie.”

“Was it working?”

“Hell no, when I saw you, I thought I was losing my mind, that I was hallucinating you.” A laugh tumbles from his lips. “I’m not sure I ain’t hallucinating this.”

“You’re not,” Steve says, tucking the hair behind Eddie’s ear. “I really like you, Eds.”

“I really like you too,” Eddie says with a giddy smile.

“Hey, wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow? Rob will be there, but she’ll probably want to sleep off her hangover, so we could–” He grabs the hem of Eddie’s cropped shirt, trailing off.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll come over,” Eddie says, giving Steve a short kiss. “Now go find Birdie. I’ll see you back home.”

“Bye, Eds.”

Steve watches the way he awkwardly waggles towards the street, laughing to himself, before heading back inside.

Where he bumps right into Robin.

“Dingus! Guess what? I kissed a girl!” She says, aggressively shaking Steve’s shoulders. “A girl kissed me!”

Grinning, Steve offers his hand for a high five. Then he blurts out, “I kissed a guy! Hooked up with him actually.”

Robin’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “You– what?”

“It’s Eddie!” He says, and her eyes grow impossibly bigger. "Also, we might be dating now."

At that, her jaw goes slack. She gawks at him before her face scrunches up. “I can’t believe you’ve been gay for five minutes and you’re already better at this than I am. Ugh!” Grabbing Steve’s hand, she starts pulling him towards the exit. “We’re leaving, dingus,” she says, “I need all the details.”

Steve sniggers. It’s a good thing that the drive back to Hawkins is two hours long.

[sh4nksslvt]

maybe i need a whole fic with luffy x reader married now... i'm not charging you, maybe i'm just in love with your writing

a/n: thank u <3 hope u like this~

Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?!

Luffy reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who also happens to be his secret spouse. The crew thought he was joking… until they weren’t laughing anymore.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, ooc, marriage, reader is opposite of luffy

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Thousand Sunny drifted through the final tunnel, water glistening against its protective bubble as Fishman Island came into view.

“WOAAAH!” Luffy yelled from the deck, eyes wide. “It’s so shiny!”

“I can’t believe it’s real!” Chopper spun around.

Robin smiled behind a hand. “The architecture here is said to be older than the Grand Line itself.”

“I heard the royal family is pretty generous,” Nami added. “If we play this smart, we could stock up for weeks.”

But Luffy? His mind was somewhere else entirely. Or rather, on someone.

He leaned against the rail, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I wonder if they’re here…”

“LUFFY, GET BACK HERE, YOU CAN’T JUST–!”

“NAMI!, I SMELL MEEAAT!”

He was already gone. Sprinting like a man possessed through the bustling bubble streets of Fishman Island, eyes wide, tongue out, arms flailing in glee.

“Captain,” Robin said with a small smile, “seems excited.”

“He's always excited,” Zoro muttered, arms crossed. “But this time he’s extra stupid.”

Brook hummed thoughtfully. “Yohohoho, I wonder if the meat will marry him too.”

“Wait, did you say marry?” Usopp blinked. “Oh yeah! Didn’t Luffy say he was married once?”

“…Didn’t we all think he was joking?” Franky asked, brows raised.

“Yeah,” Chopper added with a little snort. “He said something like ‘I already got a wife, and they’re way stronger than all of you!’ and we just laughed.”

The crew exchanged glances.

“…You think he was serious?”

MEANWHILE.

Luffy skidded around the corner, bonking a coral lamp post with his forehead. “Ow–!”

“Still no sense of direction?”

He froze.

That voice.

He knew that voice like the back of his hand — or the taste of meat. Slowly, his wide eyes turned toward the source.

There, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, was you.

Stoic, calm, one eyebrow raised, and totally unamused as always.

“Y/N!!” Luffy beamed, bolting toward you. “Y/N Y/N Y/N! YOU'RE HERE!!”

Before you could scold him, he’d wrapped you in a tight hug that nearly knocked you back.

“Still a hugger as usual, huh?” you mumbled, eyes softening just a bit.

“Missed you! SHISHISHI,” he grinned into your shoulder.

“You saw me six months ago,” you said, deadpan.

“Yeah!, but that’s like…so long!!”

You sighed, though your hand was already resting on his back, grounding the chaotic ball of sunshine that had stolen your heart all those years ago.

“…You never change.”

FLASHBACK - Windmill Village

“You’re so noisy.”

“C’mon Y/N, let’s go punch that tree again!”

Putting your book down, you sat with your arms folded, watching as young Luffy jumped up and down with excitement, a stick in his hand like it was the strongest sword in the world.

“We’ll get stronger together! Then we’ll go on adventures and eat meat every day!”

You blinked. “That’s your dream?”

“Yup! What’s yours?”

You shrugged. “I don’t have one.”

“Then make one with me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Make a dream with you?”

He nodded seriously. “We can share. Like best friends. Or… like married people!”

“…That’s not how marriage works.”

“Then I’ll change the rules!”

You stared at him.

“…Fine.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What now.”

“If we ever get married, can I still eat meat at the wedding?”

You looked up from your book. “Obviously. I won’t marry someone who doesn’t love meat.”

He blinked, surprised. “So you will marry me?”

You went back to reading. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

His heart exploded like fireworks.

BACK TO PRESENT

“Wait,” Sanji whispered from the side of the plaza, crouched with the rest of the crew behind some candy-colored seaweed. “Is that them?! MELLORINEE~~”

“THEM?!” Usopp whispered. “You know them?!”

“I’ve heard rumors,” Sanji sighed dreamily. “That’s Y/N — calm as the sea before a storm. Feared in the Grand Line and cold-hearted~"

“Yeah, but they’re…” Chopper tilted his head. “Letting Luffy carry them like a backpack right now.”

“Are they… cuddling?” Zoro’s eye twitched. “In public?”

“I’m SUPER! emotionally confused,” Franky muttered.

“Yohohoho,” Brook said softly. “So our captain is… married.”

“And he was serious,” Robin added, intrigued.

Luffy still hadn’t let go. You were currently being dragged around the island as he loudly pointed at every fish-person, street food stall, and bubble coral with endless excitement.

“Look, Y/N, look!! That octopus is playing drums!!”

You nodded. “Mm.”

“And that shark guy has THREE swords!”

You blinked. “Impressive.”

“Oh! That candy shop sells meat-lollipops!! Want one?”

“…Fine.”

He gasped, eyes shining. “You said yes! You never say yes to candy!”

“It’s for you, dumbass.”

He beamed so hard it could’ve powered the Sunny.

LATER, WITH THE CREW

“LUFFY!!”

He turned mid-bite of his meat-lollipop. “Huh?”

“WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?!” Nami shrieked.

You were sitting beside him, sipping seaweed tea calmly. “Can I help you?”

“YEAH, YOU CAN EXPLAIN HOW YOU’RE—MARRIED TO LUFFY?!”

He tilted his head. “I told you guys already.”

“YEAH BUT YOU SAID IT WHILE EATING A SEA KING LEG!!”

Franky pointed dramatically. “That’s not the time for SUPER confessions, bro!”

You raised a hand. “We’ve been married for years. It’s just not something we flaunt.”

“…You married Luffy. As in legal.”

“Technically yes. I still have the officiation snail photo. Luffy drew a mustache on it.”

“HE LOOKED SO FUNNY!! SHISHISHI” Luffy grinned, remembering it fondly.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY?! YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE!” Usopp flailed.

You stared at him. “What about it?”

“I dunno!! It’s just… Luffy’s sunshine! You’re like… moonlight. That can kill people.”

Zoro finally snapped. “Okay, no offense, but how do you even deal with him?”

You sighed, placing a hand over Luffy’s head as he practically melted beside you.

“…I’ve dealt with worse than a meat-goblin with a hero complex and zero sense of personal space.”

“That’s me!!” Luffy said proudly.

Robin giggled. “You really are opposites.”

“They’re so cool,” Sanji whispered, nose bleeding. “They’re scary. But like, in a hot way~”

“Are you crushing on our captain’s spouse?!” the crew hissed.

“Can’t help it~”

LATER THAT NIGHT ON THE SUNNY

You sat at the edge of the deck, legs dangling above the water, watching the glowing sea beneath.

Luffy flopped beside you, resting his head in your lap like he always did when the sky was quiet.

“You’re really okay with all this attention?” you asked, fingers brushing his hair.

“Mmhmm. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You never cared about showing people.”

“I didn’t think I had to. You're mine. That’s already the best thing ever.”

Your hand paused. Then resumed slowly.

“You’re still dumb.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your dumb.”

“…Yeah. You are.”

He yawned, curling closer. “Remember the promise we made?”

“Which one? You made a lot.”

“The one about sharing dreams.”

You looked up at the stars. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I still wanna do that. Even if it’s dumb. Even if I die trying.”

You tapped his forehead.

“You won’t die. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

NEXT MORNING — FISHMAN ISLAND MARKET

“I WANT TO BUY THAT ONE!”

“Luffy, that’s a pearl the size of a cannonball.”

“I WANT IT!!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Luffy, if I have to carry another crate of your ‘souvenirs’ I will drown you.”

He gasped. “Y/N!! That’s mean!”

“…You like that.”

“I DO!”

“Ew, please stop flirting where I can hear you,” Nami groaned as she walked by.

Zoro muttered, “Every time I think they’ll kill each other, they end up flirting again.”

“Do you think they’ll ever kiss in front of us?” Chopper asked innocently.

Sanji's eye turned into fire. “NO WAY! I'LL KICK YOU! YOU DAMN MONKEY!!!"

“Luffy, stop licking the pearl.”

“You know,” Robin said later that evening, watching you drag Luffy back from trying to arm-wrestle a sea king, “they’re oddly perfect together.”

“Opposites attract,” Franky nodded.

“They’re like fire and ice,” Brook added.

“More like hyper gremlin and emotionless murderbot,” Nami muttered.

“…Still somehow works,” Zoro said.

Sanji sobbed. “WHEN WILL MY TURN COME?!"

.

.

— A FEW DAYS LATER

“Hey, Robin,” Usopp whispered as the ship cruised along the current.

“Yes?”

“…Do you think we should throw them a wedding party?”

She sipped her tea. “I think if you try, you’ll die.”

“Right.”

“Besides,” she added, glancing at the couple watching the sunset at the bow of the ship, Luffy wrapped around you like a sleepy octopus, “I think they already had the only wedding they needed.”

[bunchofdoodlesinspace]

When I watch my friends transition it isn’t at all like watching someone die. It is quite literally the opposite.

It’s like watching new flowers blossom in early spring. It’s like hearing the birds again for the first time after a long, cold, dreary winter. It’s like watching fireworks explode across the night sky. It’s like watching the sun rise, or the moon rise, depending on the person. It’s like seeing a whale breech, or hearing a new engine rev, or listening to the crescendo in an orchestral piece leading up to the finale. Or sometimes it’s like watching a butterfly hatch from its chrysalis, or a newborn giraffe stand up for the first time.

Sometimes it’s a little confusing, and maybe even intimidating if it was someone I knew one way for ages. But it’s never upsetting, because pretty quickly, if you’re really paying attention, you’ll notice how they come out of their shells, how some of their insecurities fall to the wayside, how the light in their eyes shines when they try new clothes or new hair styles or makeup, how their smiles widen when people use their names- That’s not death. If anything, it’s a rebirth. And if you’re really paying attention, like, truly paying attention to them and not to your own feelings- You will see that.

And it will be beautiful. Every single time.

When you transition people tell you “it’s like watching someone die”. Like yeah a fucking loser died. Just the absolute lamest dude you ever met. A real dogshit guy just bought it. So sorry your absolute failure of a man is gone and has been replaced by a hot chick, must be hard for you 🙄

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤADDICTIONㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Roy Harper x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It doesn’t start pretty. It starts with you pissing him off.

You were a little too mouthy for his taste, too unimpressed by his sharp aim and cocky grin. He didn’t like the way you looked right through him, past the sarcasm, past the good-ol’-boy act. You saw something in him — the anger, the brokenness, the bleeding parts he covered with jokes. And you didn’t flinch.

That’s what did it.

You didn’t flinch.

Roy is used to flinching. People either pity him or write him off, tired of his rehab records and near-death decisions. But you? You looked him in the eye and told him to shut up when he was being annoying. You called him out when he was hiding behind jokes. You treated him like he mattered — not because he was Arsenal, not because he was a hero — just because he was Roy.

He’s not used to being seen.

At first, he tells himself he just likes being around you. That’s all. Normal stuff. You make him laugh. You keep him grounded. You don’t try to fix him, and that feels better than any rehab or therapy ever has.

But then he starts thinking about you too much.

Your voice gets stuck in his head like a song. He catches himself texting you dumb memes just to make you smile. Starts checking your social media at 3am when he can’t sleep. Starts memorizing the way you talk, the things you like, the stupid brands of candy you eat.

He’s already obsessed, but he doesn’t admit it yet.

Until someone flirts with you.

That’s when the mask cracks.

He’s not calm. He’s not cool. He’s not normal about it. He gets snappy, territorial. Not in front of you — he respects you too much for that — but the guy who flirted with you? Roy breaks three of his ribs during sparring and calls it an accident. No one believes him.

When he finally realizes he’s in deep, it scares him.

He’s been through hell. Lost people. Made mistakes. Done things he can’t take back. He doesn’t deserve something soft and kind like you. But that doesn’t stop the obsession from growing.

He starts doing things behind your back. Quiet things. Dangerous things.

He finds out where you live — not in a creepy way, he tells himself — just in case you ever need him. He follows you home a few times, watches from rooftops just to make sure you’re safe. No one sees him. He’s too good for that.

He tracks the people in your life. Your coworkers. Your friends. That ex you never talk about? Roy knows everything now. And if any of them ever hurt you — they won’t even know it was him.

He loves you quietly, violently.

He keeps little pieces of you. Things you leave behind. A pen you forgot. A coffee cup you tossed. You never notice they’re missing. He keeps them in a drawer, like trophies. He knows it’s not healthy. He doesn’t care.

He starts writing texts he never sends. “I miss you.” “I want you.” “I love you.” Then deletes them. You’re too good. Too normal. You’d run if you knew how deep it went.

But God, when you smile at him like you mean it? When you touch his arm, or lean your head on his shoulder after a long day?

It makes him feel real.

So he waits. Watches. Obsesses. Protects.

And the day you say, “Roy, I think I love you,” his whole world shifts.

Because now it’s not just obsession. It’s permission.

And he’s never letting you go.

It’s different now that you love him.

Now he doesn’t have to hide the way his eyes linger too long. Now he can trace your jaw with his fingers and call it affection, not fixation. Now he can sleep in your bed and press his face into your neck like he’s trying to inhale you. And he does. He does.

But obsession doesn’t get softer when it’s fed. It gets louder. Hungrier.

At first, he tries to be normal. Dates. Sleepovers. Stupid inside jokes. He gets you flowers — steals them from a villain’s estate, but hey, they’re still pretty. You make him laugh. He makes you feel safe.

But that voice in his head — the one that says you’re his, only his — never shuts up.

You don’t notice how he starts pulling you closer whenever other guys are around. How his hand finds your waist just a little too tightly when someone looks at you wrong. How his eyes go dead-cold when someone makes you laugh in a way he thinks only he should.

He tells himself he trusts you. And he does.

It’s everyone else he doesn’t trust.

You go out with friends? He hacks traffic cams to make sure you get home okay. You text someone at midnight? He finds out who it is in five minutes flat. You talk about an old friend a little too fondly? He looks up their location, just in case he needs to pay them a quiet, final visit.

Roy doesn’t threaten people. He doesn’t have to.

One look — that look — and people back the hell off. They know.

He’d bleed for you. Burn cities for you.

But here’s the twist: around you, he’s soft.

He’s the Roy you adore — grinning, rough-around-the-edges, all charm and chaos. He kisses you like he’s starving. Carries your stuff even when you say no. Keeps a stash of your favorite snacks in his bag during missions.

He gets nightmares sometimes — ugly ones. Stuff from his past. And when he wakes up shaking, you’re there. You hold his hand. He doesn’t tell you he dreams about losing you. About your body cold in his arms. About reaching you too late.

That’s his greatest fear. That he’ll fail you like he failed everyone else.

So he prepares.

He trains harder. Stockpiles weapons. Sets traps around your apartment you don’t even notice. Encrypts your phone so no one can track you. Puts a tracker in your necklace — the one he bought you for your birthday — just in case.

You’re his world. His second chance. His religion.

And the thing about Roy is this:

Once he loves you, he loves you with everything — the good, the broken, the violent.

So if anyone hurts you, even once?

They’re not disappearing.

They’re never being found.

You try to pull away.

It’s subtle at first. A hesitation before you kiss him goodnight. A pause before you answer his texts. You tell him you’re just tired, that work’s been rough, that you need space.

And Roy? He nods. Smiles. Says he understands.

He doesn’t.

Because love isn’t supposed to feel like this. Like slipping through fingers. Like drowning with your mouth still open. You’re his everything. His only anchor. And now you’re pulling away like you don’t know what you mean to him.

You have no idea what that does to a man like Roy.

He’s not someone who can let go. He never learned how. Everyone in his life either left or died. And if you leave—

No. He won’t survive it.

So he starts clinging harder. Calling more. Showing up unannounced. You say you're busy, and he just laughs it off. "Busy with what? Need help?" His tone is light, joking — but his eyes don’t blink. They watch.

You say you’re going out with friends, and ten minutes later, there’s a red motorcycle parked across the street from the bar. You never see him. He’s not here to ruin your night.

He’s here to protect what’s his.

You belong to him.

You just… forgot for a second.

Maybe someone told you you deserve better. Someone said he’s intense, possessive, obsessive. Maybe you believed them. But he’s already rewriting the narrative in his head.

They’re manipulating you.

They’re trying to take you from him.

And he won’t let that happen.

You wake up one morning and your phone’s wiped clean. A “random glitch,” your carrier says. You lose contact with half the people you were just starting to reconnect with. Friends disappear. Exes block you.

Roy’s arms are warm when he holds you through it. “People are shitty sometimes,” he says. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He means it.

Even if you scream. Even if you run. Even if you beg.

Because if you try to leave — really leave — he’s not above burning the bridges behind you. You can hate him. You can cry. You can throw things. But you will still be in his bed, still wearing the chain around your neck with the tiny GPS inside, still breathing because he keeps you safe.

He kisses your forehead one night, right after you told him, “I need space.”

His voice is soft, barely a whisper:

“You just need me.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[bunnipuffs]

requesting for dark!pervy!Ellie who is friends with fem!reader

at first, Ellie is being the sweet and caring friend (holding reader’s bags when going out shopping, paying for things, taking care of reader, girlfriendy behavior without being gfs)

then slowly overstepping boundaries b/c Ellie is slowly revealing her true colors (becoming touchy and clingy, acting jealous, being controlling, degrade&belittle reader to hurt her feelings)

hopefully this could spark some ideas if you’re comfy with writing this <3 can be sfw and nsfw hehe ^3^

oh my god YUUMMMMYYYY thank you for this anon i actually just went dizzy at the thought of this mmmmm so yum ……… THANK YOU !!!!!!! <3<3<3 enjoy !!! (✿◠‿◠)

⋆˙⟡ dark! pervy! ellie who’s so sweet to you, days of seemingly endless love and care. your head is filled with flowers and all things pretty until one day, it’s not.

♡ . — ꒰ sfw ꒱

ellie who always makes sure you’re fed. your messages from her mostly consist of her asking if you ate, and if you even tried to step around it, “i did! had a little snack <3 thanks els” you’d still receive a knock at your door—your favorite meal and drink in ellie’s hands. she gets a little cranky when you say “snack,” she knows for a fact that you didn’t eat properly. there’s no way around it! ellie just wants you to be full and energized for the day.

ellie who immediately takes out her card when you complain about not having enough money for something. whether it’s something as small as a cute keychain, a sweater, or hell, even a $200 purse, she’s faster than you are. you already hear the loud beep! of it going through, ellie grabbing your shopping bags before she lets you drag her to the next store over. your arms are wrapped around her bicep tightly, repeating a sweet “thank you!” over and over again.

ellie who’s at your apartment as soon as she hears your nasally voice over the phone. she has a plastic bag full of medicine and spends her time in your kitchen making you a nice warm meal, spoon-feeding you and sitting right by your side as she hands you a water bottle with a pill to take for your illness. she’s patting your head and telling you “good job,” before she tucks you in, cleaning up your apartment while you sleep. she doesn’t even think about leaving until you’re better!

ellie who looks at you with something indescribable when you tell her that you met someone while you were working, and planned on hanging out with them at the local cafe. she asks you a lot of questions, who? where do they live? what do they look like? it’s not long before it slowly progresses into questions like what’d they say to you? is that them texting you right now? why are they bothering you so much? you often catch a glimpse of ellie’s head whipping towards your phone when it dings, her eyes glued onto your screen.

ellie who sits right behind you at said local cafe, on the day that you and that “friend” planned to go out. a black hoodie on and funny-looking sunglasses to pair, she’s stirring a cup of coffee (she didn’t even like coffee) while she listens to you laugh and giggle like you did with her. what the fuck was so funny? she thinks, she feels something boiling beneath her skin. it didn’t sit right with her that you were spending your precious time with someone so undeserving. she should’ve been sat across you, watching your eyes crinkle and your pretty lips sip at your beloved drink. you and ellie had been to this cafe a hundred times by now, and it grew something dangerous in her stomach knowing that someone else had taken her place.

ellie who blankly stares at you when you show her your outfit for the next hangout, you’re leaving in a few minutes, smiling and twirling in front of the mirror. you’re wearing a cute little skirt, a nice frilly blouse for your top. your makeup is done perfectly and you gush about how you’ve made a good friend, that they enjoy the same things as you, and the fact that they think you’re pretty. ellie finally snaps at that, a mean scoff leaving her lips. you flinch at the sound—ellie had never done that with you. “i wouldn’t be so happy, honestly, i mean..” ellie comes up behind you, her hand trailing down to the end of your skirt. it’s short, and ellie lifts it just enough, exposing bits of your bare thigh. “i love it, but, what if they think you’re a whore? dressed like that?” she continues, letting go of the fabric.

ellie who feels pure satisfaction blooming in her chest when your smile fades away, you nod in response, not saying anything. a whore? you didn’t want that. your eyes are teary at the insult, lip trembling, before you make your way to your dresser. you fish out a pair of jeans, pulling your skirt off in front of ellie. she quickly snaps a picture of you before you’re all dressed up again. you keep facing your old wooden dresser, looking at the chips and dents. you’re afraid of ellie seeing you cry. but she knows you are, and she’s suddenly pulling you into her arms and rubbing your back, soft cries pulled from your throat. she hums into your hair, “awh, c’mon, don’t cry. y’know i’m just looking out for you, right?” you can’t feel the grin pressed against you, ellie cooing when you hiccup. “don’t wanna ruin your pretty makeup, so stop crying.”

ellie who is more than pleased to know that you haven’t been wearing your skirts around them anymore, and she feels even better when you suddenly receive a photo from an unknown number—a picture of you, asleep in only your panties and a tank top, your leg over a pillow exposing your ass and legs. you feel bile rise in your throat when you open it. who? but ellie always has an answer to your problems, and she advises you not to speak to your “good” friend anymore. your head is in ellie’s lap, pink cheeks stained with tears while she gently runs her fingers through your hair. “it’s really weird that this happened when you met, i don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to them anymore..” you didn’t question how they had found your apartment, or even how they got in. but you’d never know that ellie had been the one to sneak into your apartment. you had given her an emergency key if anything had happened since you lived alone, and ellie had never used it before. but ellie was getting tired of hearing about this loser, and she quietly walked into your room late at night, pulled out her phone and took a picture of you. unconscious and vulnerable. the best part was that you would never accuse her of something like that. you trusted ellie, she wouldn’t do that to you.

♡ . — ꒰ nsfw ꒱

ellie who asks for your phone from time to time, looking through your messages and buying you ice cream when she doesn’t see anyone new lingering in your inbox. she waits till you’re distracted doing something else, cleaning your living room, your kitchen, organizing clothes, before she looks through your gallery and sends herself your selfies and other… pictures you’ve taken. she quickly opens up her phone to save them before deleting them on your end. they weren’t nudes, but some of them made ellie sticky in her boxers, a particular photo of you with your tongue out and wearing your favorite pajama set. she thinks about using your mouth to get herself off, groaning at the thought of your lips covered in her arousal.

ellie who uses the secret pictures she’s taken of you to masturbate, the one of you asleep her favorite one by far. she’s cumming at the thought of your pretty face crying when she called you a whore, your glossy eyes when you received that picture of you unconscious, she doesn’t even really need the picture at this point—but it makes her even hornier that you’re so naive. she likes the reminder of her influence on you, how easy you believed her. she’s gritting out your name when she makes a mess all over her pillow, imagining it as your body.

ellie who takes you out for another mall date as usual, she lets you wear anything you want around her—but you’ve noticed that every time you’re wearing a skirt, ellie’s hands brush against your ass for a second, and it seems to be happening more and more. she gives you a sheepish smile and apologizes, “i’m walking too close, i wasn’t paying attention,” but you can’t see her behind you, you can’t see her eyes fixated on your plump ass peaking from beneath the fabric, calculated touches on ellie’s end. you start ignoring it when you realize it just keeps happening, maybe she really is just doing it by accident. she’s holding a lot of bags, and there’s a lot of people. it gets distracting inside of a packed mall!

ellie who gets a little too touchy one night. she’s staying over at your apartment again since you felt paranoid about someone sneaking in, and you’re fast asleep in her arms almost immediately. ellie tucks a stray loose of hair behind your ear, your warm breaths against her tattooed arm. she doesn’t realize her hand is already slowly drifting down your chest, a finger gently tugging down your top to reveal your nipple. she brushes over it, carefully, the bud hardening at her touch. ellie lets out a small noise seeing it, wanting nothing more than to lick at it, bite until it’s all sore. she quickly fixes your clothing when you shuffle in her grasp, her heart pounding against her chest. she hopes it doesn’t wake you up.

ellie who peeks into your bathroom while you’re showering. you’ve recently kept the door open while you did your business because you were anxious, and ellie needed to get to you in time if something happened. ellie does her best to see you through the glass, your blurry naked figure moving around as you rinse yourself off. she can’t make out your face at all, but she can see the outline of you, your perky tits, the dips of your hip, she can faintly see your ass as you grab and smooth over it with soap. ellie’s slipping a hand down her pants while she stares, playing with herself as she continues looking at you. she’s moaning softly against the edge of the door, circling her clit in fast circles. she didn’t have the time to drag it out like she usually did, edging herself to pictures of you or your sleeping face next to her. you were going to be done soon—and ellie cums as soon as you’re groping your tits, washing innocently.

ellie who tells you to quit your job. she can’t risk you meeting someone else, and she’d have to go through that same process all over again. you were stupid to believe her the first time, but a second? you’d obviously pick up on something. ellie couldn’t have that. she tells you “i’ve already been paying for everything, i might as well move in since i’m here all the time.” initially, you’re a bit worried. rent was expensive! your full time job wasn’t even cutting it, how would you both pay for rent if you couldn’t? but ellie quickly shushes you with her usual excuses, and eventually, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. ellie could protect you if something were to happen again. you quit your job and with a short notice to joel, ellie moves in the next week.

ellie who can’t help but kiss you when you’re sleeping. it’s only the third night of you both living together, but your lips are right there, right in front of her, and all the restraint in her body had left a long time ago—she’s pressing wet kisses to your mouth, her tongue licking at your lips. all over it, disgustingly so, but you’re so sweet. ellie can’t get enough. she’s eventually pulling down your panties, her face buried in between your legs, licking feverishly at your pussy. you wake up to the stickiness between you, your eyes widening when you see your best friend below you. she’s staring up at you without shame, like she was waiting for you to wake up. there’s something dark swimming in her eyes, and she doesn’t stop even when you’re thrashing under her hold. her hands are pinning your thighs to your bed, her tongue making it’s way into your hole. you’re far too deep to fight back, the drowsiness of sleep and the unbearable heat in your cunt hard to push away. “come for me first, i’ll stop then—please, i need it,” you try to respond, but her fingers find your clit and she’s rubbing you so good that it makes you squirt all over her tongue, your slick coating her slender fingers. you’re panting heavily, chest aching with how desperately you’re trying to catch air, and ellie is suddenly hovering right above you. she presses a kiss to your forehead, gentle and loving, unlike her a few moments ago. “i’m all you need, okay? just me, say it, please.” you gulp, the familiar feeling of fear spreading in your chest. you stare back up at her with those teary eyes she loved, “you’re all i need, els.”

[elvishdemigod]

Depends on the OC

My old Adventure Time self insert? I'd die from cringe.

My old Creepypasta self insert? I'd die from cringe, and then eaten by them.

My Dark Elf dragonborn? She doesn't have much trauma and she's pretty chill, so we might be good. As long as no one puts a hit on me.

My Nord dragonborn? He's running away screaming, the anxious little bastard.

My Fallout 4 Sole Survivor? Nah, he'd see me as bad as a raider and consume my flesh.

My DA Inquisitor? We're fine as rain.

My Blades of Light and Shadow OC? He might think I was crazy for urging him to date someone who was an enemy for a bit who kidnapped one of his friends. But we're otherwise good.

My original story OCs? Oh, I'm screwed. There may be the chill ones with their trauma who might be upset with me. But then there's the traumatized ones who'd have a bone to pick, and others who are just violent, and two use to be Creepypasta OCs before they completely drifted to their own thing so there's that.

[just-a-sweet-girl]

Hi! Can I have maybe a head canons or scenarios request for Dante (DMC 5 and Netflix version) with a fem s/o who's loyal towards him and very caring towards him.

As if the reader would do everything they can to make him happy and show how they love him or cared for him. What would both versions react about this?

I don't just write for Dante, yall can send in requests of Vergil, or V or Nero >3

Thank you for this, it's so cuuuute

DMC5 Dante absolutely loves it.

♡ His s/o is a morning person. Always up before him unless he hadn't went to sleep in the first place, or he makes her sleep in with him. She'll show her love to him with acts of kindness.

♡ Keeping the place clean is one of them. Dante knows not to dirty something reader has cleaned unless he wants to be the one to reclean it. One time, he had to mop the whole place from stepping in with mud.

♡ By the end of that day, the two of you were dancing to the music you had playing to help motivate him. The floor didn't get clean, but that was okay. A memory with Dante that's filled with smiles and laughter, shared kisses... that meant more.

♡ Definitely has a habit of showering him with kisses on the daily. Doesn't matter what he is doing - as long as their are safe - she'll walk up to him, cup his scruffy face in her hands and pepper kisses all over his face. Each time saying something so tooth rotting sweet.

"handsome," kiss "strong" kiss "you always do such a good job" kiss "I love you."

♡ Surprises him with strawberry sundaes. And most of you money goes to pizza - but that's fine. You're not the one in debt.

♡ What really gets him is when he's noticed how nothings went out yet. Electricity, his water, it's all still on even though he knows he hasn't paid it in months. Tries to ask Morrison about it, but all he gets is, "You have someone who cares, Dante."

♡ Shaving. He doesn't do it often, since how fast it grows back. But when he does shave - you're more than happy to do it for him. Settling upon his lap with the cutest expression of focus as she is careful with shaving him. When done, she can't help but to rub her check with his affectionately. Reminding him of a cat.

♡ You practically do everything for him, it's how you show your love. But don't get it wrong, Dante tries his best to show you that kind of love in return. Except, his comes in the way he practically worships you.

2025 Dante doesn't feel like he deserves it.

♡ His S/0 is someone he's known for a long time. Having started out as friends until he decided he would try. Just for her. He's scared to become attached to anyone, and this shows whenever he subconsciously pulls away from you.

♡ You're patient though. And with every action you do, you make sure to poor every ounce of care and love into it. Making him know he is truly loved.

♡ Not a hunter, but you're not defenseless. For from it. When his s/o has discovered what he does, she spent the whole night learning what she could from him. Every now and then, you'll try to sneak up on him, but he always knows it's you.

His hands automatically gripped beneath your thighs when you jumped on his back. Hands covering over his eyes as you tried to change your voice, failing. "I'm robbing you!"

The silliest grin appears on his face. "Oh, yeah? What're you taking then, pretty?"

You groan, before smiling. Removing your hands and leaning more over his shoulder. Hands cupping his face. You declare, "You're heart!" before kissing him.

♡ He appreciates your loyalty. He see's it in how you reject any other man who wished to be with you. In how you stay by his side no matter the dangers. even when he's having a difficult day and say's something he shouldn't have.

♡ You love him in the way you would start a warm bath or shower whenever he returns home a completely mess. In how you join him and wash the gunk from his hair. And he feels it when you hold him at night. Fingers running through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. In how you whisper, "I love you..." In such a soft, sweet whisper.

♡ Dante doesn't like caring. Always makes it a point not to. When in reality, he cares the most. And even though it is still difficult for him to voice or show this, he tries his damn hardest. Just for you.

[yumeka-sxf]

After what seemed like an eternity, we're finally having another Yor/Garden arc! And even though it's only been one chapter, so many major reveals have already happened...

First off, it's revealed that the SSS has been working with Garden, seemingly giving them undercover jobs on behalf of the prime minister. I always thought that Garden could potentially be one of the SSS's targets, similar to WISE, since both Garden and WISE are doing their own form of shady dealings without government authority. But this reveal completely changes that...now we know that the already corrupt SSS and government have a working relationship with Garden to do their secret dirty work.

This makes my previous thoughts from chapter 114 about a potential Briar sibling reveal even more intense, since now we know that the two organizations work together and intermingle on a somewhat regular basis. It doesn't seem like Wilker knows that Yor is part of Garden, since the assassins' identities are kept a secret, but a chance encounter with Yuri definitely seems more likely now! I wonder if lower ranking SSS members like Yuri know about the boss's dealings with Garden.

We also learn a lot more about Shopkeeper in this chapter. He appears to be someone who treasures the "old ways" of the country. He speaks fondly about the 16th century mansion that Garden has their meetings in and seems exasperated by all the East-West friction happening in the current times. He makes it clear to Wilker that Garden's main purpose is to protect the nation, not do whatever petty job a politician gives them. He rejects a job to interfere with a soccer match against the West, but eagerly takes on Wilker's other job that involves what Shopkeeper calls "imperial lands," and the deer they're told to protect "divine beings." So yeah, it's pretty clear he values tradition and the past culture of the nation, which is a good thing to know about a character who's been shrouded in mystery for so long.

Another thing we learn is that Belle, the seal from chapter 103, also has a connection with the SSS and prime minister. The way Wilker talks about her to Shopkeeper gave me the impression that they had spoke about the topic before, so maybe Garden was involved too? When does the corruption end, lol.

And the other big reveal in this chapter is...new Garden members!

There's Gympie (who appears to be an actual child and my first thought upon seeing him was "I don't remember this kid from among Naruto's classmates" 👀) and Hemlock, who has some kind of antagonism with Yor. Another member, Thistle, is mentioned though doesn't actually appear. It's interesting how all the Garden members' names are related to plants somehow. Guess it makes sense for an organization called "Garden" 😅

By the way, in case anyone is wondering, Hemlock is a man. I wasn't sure at first, but he uses the male pronoun "ore" in the Japanese version.

Also undefeated assassin Yor being afraid of bugs but not a ladybug...guess we all have things we're weak to even if it doesn't always match our skills 😂

Good call here from jules about Mitera being the same place where Damian and friends did their treasure hunting in chapter 104. Could Yor's mission somehow lead to more Anya backstory on top of everything else?!

But out of everything that happened in this chapter, Hemlock intrigues me the most - I wonder why he has such a thing against Yor, and why Shopkeeper had to specifically remind him that they're supposed to protect the deer and not harm them. I look forward to learning what his deal is in the coming chapters. Perhaps some backstory about him and Yor in their early days at Garden? And of course, having Yor do a job with a male coworker who seems to be close to her age, even one who doesn't like her, opens up the potential for jealous Loid maybe? Not likely since I doubt Yor or Hemlock would allow themselves to be seen by anyone on their job...but it's nice to dream 😅 Regardless, I haven't been this excited for the next new chapter in a long time! Cruise Arc 2025, let's go!!!

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 5

Late but not as bad as before! (ᵕ ´ᗜ`) It doesn't feel as long as it is like, I actually questioned the word count. (´∀｀；) But at least I put the right title this time!

I promise I really do love Tim so much. I love all the robins so very very much. (ᵕ,—ᴗ—,)

I hope you enjoy!

Reader ages 15 - 17

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

So, you lied to Alfred about your new spider friend, telling him instead that it was dead. Worried about what kind of experiments it would most likely be put through. Plus, it's kinda cute. Now that it's got the little nipping thing out of the way it's warmed up considerably to you. In fact it seems almost drawn to you in a way. Tapping at the little aquarium you bought for it when you come in. Even, dwindling webs around your fingers excitedly when you greet them.

"You'll be nice to our friends, right?" They catch on the tip of your nose before letting go to swing from your fingers, "Good baby."

The last time you saw your friends was as they were stumbling down the crowded halls with no hope of closing the gap. Everything was too sudden and confusing, it didn't even feel real at the time.Your week out of school has been spent at home, then the gym as you mastered your new... abilities.

Of course, you've kept in contact with them, let them know you hadn't died or anything crazy. Well, not that something didn't happen, you just couldn't face them about it. Until now.

"Finally! God, I've been waiting for you to spill it!" Mj practically cheers from her spot laid out on your bed. She sits up, emerald eyes wide with an almost child-like excitement, "I'm totally grateful that it was Flash you laid the fuck out like you did but like.. how did you?!"

Gwen finally pulls herself away from the spider tank to huff at the redhead, "How sensitive of you.." Spinning her chair to face you, she gives you a more sympathetic look, "We wanted to wait for you to bring it up first."

Now, you wish you hadn't waited so long to open up. They don't care how strange your situation might be, even if they did criticise your decision making abilities. Of course, you had to show off your new strength, lifting your bed up with both of them on it. Along with your.. web things. Which was still a little tricky to get a hang of and it felt so odd, creating this incredibly strong substance that stuck to everything concretely. The two of them were ecstatic, even saying you could be a hero.

"Well, if you can get over being in the spotlight. Like when you're in a competition!" MJ is squeezing your hands and while it's nothing to what you can withstand now you can practically feel her excitement from the contact.

It made it so much harder to say, "I don't, um, well, it's just that-" Literally, especially when you can see the stars in her eyes, "There's.." No way someone like you could do what they do, "So many heros and vigilantes out there already..."

"That would be quite a chance in your life, we are still pretty young for all that..." Gwen, your voice of reason, pillar of sanity, your- "Maybe you could train until you're an adult and we can work on your brand before that."

"No, not you too."

Life at the mansion is quiet as always, the familiar desolate kind of quiet you've grown hate rather viciously. You've only crossed paths with your father in glimpses since the funeral. In fact, you hardly see Alfred anymore, always busy tending to Bruce and minding the cave. Of course, It couldn't stay quiet for long, it's something you both dreaded and anticipated. After weeks that bend together life rises in the somber walls again.

There's something going on. Something big if the sudden commotion around the manor is anything to go by. Some kid is hanging around Alfred, he's got to be the one stirring up the birds. Not to mention you catch sight of Nightwing, stupid big collar and all. You thought he was too busy off living his own life to actually come around anymore, not that he ever paid you much mind but... it made Alfred sad! Stupid jerk.

It's not until the next day that the old butler does his best to explain the situation. "He's a young boy that's been observing Master Bruce since... Well, since he was mentoring Master Richard." Oh, so he's a weirdo like you. It's strange the two of you didn't cross paths sooner. "I'll bring him around some time soon." So, he's sticking around, that could only mean one thing.. "The two of you could be close.. Young master." You could practically hear 'like Jason' on the tip of his tongue. The unsaid words burn your ears and twist up your chest.

Opening the top of your aquarium you let out your like friend. The excited skitter of your dear spider up your arm leaves a silken trail in its wake. Giggling you guide the bitty spider onto a finger, holding them up to eye length.

"Would you like to come take some pictures, little one?" You coo as they dangle from your index. "We'll see how the-" No, you couldn't say that. Ha, yeah, new Robin. That old one's dead. So? Just shuck a new one in again and keep going. Fuck you hated it and you hated feeling so bitter and you hated not being able to just- fucking scream at someone. Let rage that's building in your heart out on something.

You can feel your back hit the wall. Thoughts swirl as you steady yourself with a hand against the wall. This was the kind of situation you could only talk to Alfred about. The old man was all words of wisdom and you felt too ashamed to bring such thoughts up to him.. He was mourning too, it was all too much, too heavy. You just wanted laying around and whining like you did with Jay, like you can with your friends.

But, if Bruce found out you knew and went blabing? Spilling secrets, even to your closest confidants.. People outside the family things you shouldn't even know? Telling them would surely spell your end. Hell, not to mention the actual risk you're friends could be in by letting them know something so dangerous. If someone found out they knew who The fucking Batman was..

As the feeling of the winding emotions tighten your lungs, two little spider legs tap against your nose. "Okay, okay, I'm alright." The laughter slips from your mouth before you realize it's yours. Little legs dance across your face. Your breathing evens out and you realize that your room seems.. smaller.

Like you've suddenly outgrown the room entirely. Looking down you realize your feet are not, in fact, on the ground. Instead they, along with your free hand, are stuck to the wall. You've unconsciously backed yourself into the corner... of your ceiling.

"Is there anything else you like to tell me about?"

The thought felt so far out there but... maybe you really could use this? Go out, fight crooks, help people, be a real vigilante. The thought squeezed at your heart and burned at your ears, you're well rehearsed in running about Gotham and capability in fighting. It has crossed your mind as so unachievable... until till now.

Now, it actually feels within your grasp, all too sudden and yet... all too late at once. If you could have worked at his side. What would he think? Would you tell him right away? Would he accept your strange changes? Would he think to do the same? To finally tell you?

Does it matter?

He's gone.

Feet hitting the ground silently you lower your spider back into its enclosure on your desk. You collapse on your bed. Tears slip down your face as your gaze blurs at the ceiling. The kiss of twilight lying lazily across the white surface in soft dim rays.

When the lights are suddenly flipped on you shield your red eyes with your hood. Sitting up your knees tuck to your chest as you glare at the intruder. Two, standing awkwardly in your doorway. Oh, Alfred, what impeccable timing you have, old man.

He smiles, calling your name gently, "This is Master Timothy-" Hand laid on the young boy's shoulders, he presents him.

Breaking from the butler's grasp he strides over, "My name's Tim. It's nice to meet you." Another black haired, blue eyed boy stands before you. Reach out a hand for you eagerly, "I guess we'll be seeing each other so-"

That simmering anger boils over and you snap at him, "Yeah, cause your- what? Here to replace Jason, right?" You couldn't take this, not again. "Sorry, I'm not looking for a new brother."

"What-?" The look on his face makes you feel like shit, but it can't plug the hole it's opened.

Hissing bitterly, you turn away from him, "I'll make this easy for you," Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, you force away the tears. "We don't have to know one another. You might as well forget where my room is now." Glaring at him over your shoulder, face burning and chest aching, "I'm sure we won't be seeing each other."

So, this is Robin. What? Because he figured out Bruce is Batman? If you told him that you figured that out years ago, would he suddenly see you? Would he see your hard work, all that you fucking went through? Would he finally take you in as his own? If he knew of your powers, your skill, yours achievements...

Would you be his next tool? Thrown as his extension until you were of no good to him? Until your use is exhausted and you're tossed aside again?

No.

You are your own person and will use your own powers for your own good. Never have you needed him, any of them. You most certainly don't need them now.

You can't say you blame Tim for shutting you out following your outburst, Alfred had also scolded you soundly. Yet, you were too tired to hope anymore, to try for such a close connection, and he made sure to pay you in kind. From snubbing you on the rare occasion you crossed paths in the halls to out right leaving a room you've entered.

Making your way into the dining room after an exceptionally long day, you freeze in the doorway. The hand that was rubbing at the crook fell to form a fist at your side.

Bruce leans over to swoop up the paper he was helping Tim with, "It's okay, chum. Just rest up for now." He snatches up the rest of the studying material scattered on the counter piece by piece. "We'll get back to work when your head is clear."

Oh, what a diligent father he is...

Tim, clearly not willing to be pushed into taking a break, snips back at him, "I can't rest now! What if-" His words die in the throat as those cornflower eyes catch you.

Before you can retreat and save both of you from this encounter, Bruce notices his newest son's hesitancy. He finally sees you, pinned in place by the doorway, "Oh, Good-" Pausing to look out the window over the sink to assess the time he turns back with a smile, "Evening, this is actually good timing. Have you met, Tim?"

"Yeah." He's only been around for months but, of course, you're oblivious.

Suddenly, Tim bolts up from his seat, "I think you're right, Bruce. 'Should probably head home, get some rest." Study supplies gathered in his arms, he nods in departure as he pushes past you, "Night."

Returning to your room, you watch the car pull away and Alfred returns him home. Having him around grated on the parts of your grief that were still raw. A small part of you took some pleasure in knowing he would go home eventually. Back to his own house with his own parents.

Despite any lingering animosity, you couldn't help going out to watch the new dynamic duo.

Tim, well, the kid makes a damn good Robin. What he lacks in strength he doubles in agility and triples in cunning intelligence. It's fascinating watching him go, embracing his part so fluidly. Like he was born to play his role in this show of justice and brutality.

Speaking of, Batman and Robin were now long gone, having hopped in the batmobile and sped off after their latest lead. Normally, this would be time for you to head home. Climbing walls was a neat trick that got you out of most situations you got into while getting your shots. The tingle in the back of your head, hairs raised and skin prickling that makes you whip around to spot two figures at the end of the alley is new.

"Hand it over, lady," The man's gruff voice is muffled by the cloth obscuring his face, "and no one gets killed." He jabs something into the stomach of the woman he's cornered.

Wincing away, her back hits the wall, "No, please.." She clings to the plastic pharmacy bag, shaking her head vehemently, "My son, he's sick, please!"

This wasn't time to evade, it was time to intervene. Scaling the grimy bricks of the wall, you descend silently. Feet touching the ground just behind the man, his looming figure blocking the woman's view of you.

"It's not very nice to go through a lady's purse." The sudden sound of your voice makes him all but jump out of his skin and you can't fight the grin that pulls at your lips.

He looks you up and down, "What the hell do you want, kid?" Eyes honing what's hung around your neck, he chuckles under his mask, "That's a nice camera ya' got there."

Lifting the device up, it dangles on its strap, "Oh, this?" You tilt your head, "I was just in the neighborhood, getting the scoop on Gotham's latest scum. You'll make a good headliner." You're not really sure where this cockiness came from but it seemed to spill out whenever you used your powers. "Local loser gets ass kicked by teenager." Especially against assholes like this.

Finally shoving away the trembling woman, he turns to you fully, "So, you're just asking for it then?" The weapon he'd threatened her with, a handgun, now focused on you.

"Cute toy, let's play." Before he can react you've thrown your hand out, hitting the barrel with a web and yanking it from his hands.

He stands there for a moment, looking at you, the webbed gun, the woman and then back to you. "No, no I'm not about to be a part of some superhero background bullshit." Muttering almost hysterically under his breath, he backs out of the ally, "Fuck this, fuck Gotham.. I'm outta here!"

With that proclamation, he runs away leaving the two of you standing there stunned. With a sigh, you straighten yourself, hoping to give an air of confidence as you turn to the distressed woman.

It doesn't seem to matter though as she throws her arms around you, "Th-thank you, so much." Tears stream down her face as she trembles in your awkward arms. The stress of her life threatening situation washes over her and like a true gothamite she shakes it off like a champ. Brushing herself off, she gives you a thankful smile, "Please kid, if there's anythi-"

Your hands shoot up, waving off her offer, "No! No, no! Just don't, uh-" However in vain it may be, you pull at your jostled hood, trying to obscure your face. "don't tell anyone about me, what you saw, here, today- night.. Please?"

It feels like a weight off your chest when she agrees earnestly, giving you an affectionate pat on the heads and wishing you a good night.

Maybe you were getting a little ahead of yourself. To say you were inspired would be an understatement. Emboldened by your sudden victory, you use your.. fair skills in art and sewing. Ment for patching not to piece together a whole suit. Your first drafts are... bad.

It's a blessing and a curse when MJ stumbles upon your spider costume concepts.

"What are you making?" She gasps, flipping through your concept book.

"Don't look!" You squawk in horror, flailing for your book as an artist's worst nightmare happens before your very eyes.

"You know, this isn't all bad... Yeah, yeah I could work with this." Says the perpetrator of the heinous acts as she giggles at your dismay.

"Work with-?" before you can ask, she's pulled a small tape measure from who knows where. Lifting your arms up and around as she notes your measurements in nimble calculated movements.

"Hold still tiger." She smiles up at you, moving her work down your body until she has every inch of you jotted down. "So, what's the basics of what you're thinking?"

"Something bright, a nice red," like your dear round of Robins, "and blue to contrast. But, maybe that was too Superman-y?"

Mj suggests stitching black webbing across, and a spider.. where a bat would go, you liked that, differentiating yourself from them. Because you aren't them.

You are Spider.

Ya'know, like, Robin.. but, a spider.. the Spider? Oh wow, is that terrible? Are you dumb? You can't even tell anymore. What are you doing? Is this real? Are you really going to do this? Could you really go through with it after everything you've experienced?

After a day Mj is back with a design that immediately captivates you, "Holy shit.." You take the page, admiring the webbing over the blocking of the colors and the added large white eyes.

Looking rightfully proud of her work she wiggles ginger brows at you, bumping your shoulder with hers. "Nice right? It won't be very protective but you'll look damn good." Throwing your arms around her you both giddy at the prospects.

It would be entirely asinine of you, yet..

Using the abilities you've been honing for as long as you've lived in the manor. Not to mention studying every move of the renowned dynamic duo. The bite only enhanced what you already had.

You could actually help people, not just watching as they get rescued.

Dick showed you how to out maneuver your enemies, Jason showed you have to take them down soundly, and now Tim is showing you have to crumble them from the inside. Witnessing the swift ways he hacks into anything, taking out controls, shutting things down, using them to his advantage. It was truly fascinating. The skills he presented even reignited your interest in tinkering.

Of all the little things you've made, none ever had much of a use before. Mostly novelty things that you'd either give to your friends or gift to Alfred. Simple devices only meant for mundane tasks.

"Gwen. What if, hear me out, we parent trap our dads." Mj muses, from her end of your bed.

Rolling her eyes from the other end of the bed Gwen shushes her, "Stop yapping nonsense and listen." She gestures to you, standing there waiting for their attention.

"I dunno, I'm kinda interested." You chuckle lifting up the device in your hand. After a brief explanation of what it is and how it works you ask them as they stare in a mix of disbelief and confusion.

"So... what does this do?" She eyes the pair of inconspicuous goggles resting in your palm, "In, like, plain english please?"

"It should let you see." You grin, offering them up to her and she accepts them readily, "Wanna see?"

It's just the heat signature and outline of people in the vicinity. Hesitantly she takes them, slipping them over her head until they're in place.

"Holy shit that's cool..." Whipping her head around, she gasps, "Wait is that-?"

Gwen perks up, leaning in as if she could catch a peek, "Huh? What is it?" She nudges Mj's knee when she doesn't answer right away.

"You really, truly, outdone yourself this time." She presses her hand to her cheeks which are reddening under the goggles, "I can see his ass so clearly from, what? three rooms away?"

What did- Gwen cuts in, not leaving you to wonder for long, "Dicks home? Damn bitch, let me see."

"No, absolutely not." You practically jump her, wrangling them from her head.

"Hey! I'm not done!" Mj clings to the band as you lift her into the air with them, like a ferret latching onto a stolen shoe.

The leather of the other end of the band cries out in mercy as your eye twitches, "Give. Now." Gwen cackles at the sight of you trying to shake her off.

They may not always be the best but you know these two will always be your biggest pillars of support. No matter what happens.

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

Tag list?!

@butratherbutrather @dorkatron-2000 @mys0cksrwet @nervousalpacalady @notsamaira @facelessisnthere @danir2006 @ryuushou @sirenetheblogger @l3v1us @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @shadowytravelerlover @whatamoodhoney @alittlelostmoonchild @tiarea @tsxukikami @levi-09 @stardustnightfall @antov828 @awawage @kaitense1 @1abi @d3nnji @yhin-gg @ithoughtthinks @cherrydaisymanic @bat1212 @shycreatorreview @mikusamsan @strwberryglass @hebaoffside @kawaiimusiccollection @bunniotomia @wishiwaswritingrn @epicy0n @cristy-101 @timebomb1101 @st4rg1rln @lithiumval

[mwahgo]

HOT GIRL AND HER LOSER BOYFRIEND

— RE2! Leon S. Kennedy x Fem! Reader (Resident Evil)

: ̗̀➛ Summary: Nobody believes the new police rookie is dating a famous, hot model.

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 2.2k

: ̗̀➛ Content Tags: TW: Mentions of sexual harassment (if it triggered you, pls scroll), one misogynistic sentence, teasing, fluff, leon being embarrassed, yelling (not from Leon), no outbreak AU

Mwahgo's Notes: Sorry for the constant changes on the style, still trying to find it😭

“Kennedy, you’re 5 minutes late,” Marvin Branagh scolded the young rookie, Leon as he entered inside the Raccoon City police station. The rookie sweatdropped nervously as Marvin sighed before letting him go as Leon sprinted to his desk. A small pile of paper works already sat on his desk as he sighed softly, remembering those were the unfinished felony reports he did yesterday. The atmosphere in the police station is rather usual, the sound of heavy boots walking around the station, the talk between officers about recent cases or the loud ringing of the police cars outside as they patrol the streets of Raccoon City. These sounds are usual for Leon as continues writing down reports when he took a glance on the small frame on the corner of his desk, a picture of his college graduation, Leon smiling and a pretty girl beside him, pulling him down to kiss his cheek. Leon smiled at the memory, graduating with his college sweetheart.

Leon placed his books inside his locker as students walked around the hallways, trying to get to their classes. As he blends in with the students, you walked past by him and it instantly caught his attention, his eyes widening at your beauty as you walked down the halls with confidence. Until you suddenly tripped and fell—well, intentionally tripped and fell as Leon gasped. A group of girls giggled beside you, “That’s what you get for acting like you own the place,” They sneered before walking off.

Leon took the courage to help you up, but you held up your palm before standing up on your own two feet as you dusted off your clothes, “What fucking assholes, they keep picking on me,” You scowled, rolling your eyes.

Leon looked at her with concern, “A-Are you okay?” He asked.

“O-Oh uhh… Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered before pulling out a small mirror from your bag. Leon watched you intently as you observe if your makeup was ruined or smeared but thankfully, you sighed in relief as you placed the mirror back in your bag.

“You said they’ve been picking on you, have you told the professors?” Leon asked as you looked at him, confused.

“Me? Telling the professors?” You scoffed, “I told them multiple times, but they just never gave a fuck. So I just gave up or whatever..” You grumbled as Leon looked at you with sympathy.

“Look, I-I can go and help you. I saw them tripping your foot and insulting you. I can be a witness,” Leon insisted as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as I can prove to them I still have my confidence,” You turned to him, smirking, “They can’t stop me,” You said before you walked off. Leon blushed at your confidence as he watched you walking down the hallway to your first class. He never seen such natural confidence from someone before, let alone from someone getting picked on. You didn’t let others step on you—bring you down because you know to yourself that you can’t let them have the upper hand and Leon admires you for that.

You and Leon continue to see each other after your first encounter. You have your circle of friends, he has his own circle of friends—but in the end, you both still hangout and study together, visit each other’s dorms and just talk about random things. Feelings have developed—you both knew, and on a random school dance night, he held your hand as you both dance slowly with the melodic song. You stare at each others eyes as Leon leans down and whispered to your ear, “I want to admit something,”

You giggled at his secrecy, “What is it? That you were the one who burned the egg and triggered the fire alarm?” You joked as he laughed along, but turning back to being serious.

“No, but seriously..” He trailed off, “… I wanna tell you that.. I’ve liked you for a while,” He blushed.

Your eyes widened, mouth ajar at his confession, “I was attracted with… How confident you are, you’re selfless and just…” He trailed off, “.. Absolutely amazing,” He grinned.

Your smile couldn’t go any wider as you leaned up and kissed his lips. He let out a muffled gasp until he melted in your lips. You pulled away, blushing, eyes gleaming with happiness, “I’m glad. I like you too, Leon,” You said.

He gasped softly before his lips breaks into a grin before he kisses your forehead out of happiness as he pulls you in a hug while you both continue to dance slowly, together in each other’s embrace.

After your graduation, you moved to a different state to pursue your modeling career and Leon went to Raccoon City to seek out his path as a police. So far, you and Leon are handling the long distance relationship—you often have late night calls, sending each other letters or visit each other’s state but now, you have been very busy because of your schedules and Leon just handles paperwork, patrol around the city and capture bad guys. His cop life isn’t as hectic as your modeling life but you both get to manage to update one another about your job life.

Leon leaned back on his chair before stretching his arms out, already sore from writing out these reports as he gazed outside, thinking about you. You haven’t been sending him updates about what is happening with you, but he trusts your just handling a lot of stuff. The last update that he got was a letter from you—telling him that you have a photoshoot for a magazine and you were so excited. He smiled at remembering that letter, he can sense the excitement in your writing because this is what you like doing, being pretty in front of the camera and showing off your confidence.

“Hey, Kennedy. You on break?” Someone called as Leon turned to see his colleagues. With all the time reminiscing about your relationship, he didn’t notice it was break time already.

“O-Oh yeah, I’m on break,” He answered as he pushed away his work stuff before pulling out his lunch for today, “Say Leon, you’re quite the good looking guy to be a police,” One of his colleagues commented, “You got a girlfriend?” They asked.

Leon’s eyes sparkled when they asked about his relationship status as he grabbed the framed picture and showed it to them, “Yeah and this is her. It’s our graduation picture together,” He pointed at you in the picture.

His colleagues looked at him like he was crazy, I mean, why is he pointing at you, (Y/N), one of the most well known and hottest model ever? Is he nuts? One of them placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and sighed, “We understand you, Leon. Everyone has their own celebrity crushes,”

Leon furrowed his eyebrows, confused at their comment, “N-No guys, I’m serious. She’s actually my girlfriend, we met at college and we started dating ever since,” He explained.

They snickered, “Yeah whatever, I don’t think a really famous model would date a cop like you,”

One of them glanced at them, “We never know, maybe she likes a private life? That’s why she dated a non-celebrity?” They questioned.

They continue talking about their speculation on you and Leon’s relationship, if it’s really true or maybe Leon is a lying bastard who wants to impress people with his stories. Leon frowned, but he saw it coming, if he proclaimed to the world that he’s dating you, people might give him the side eye and ignore, maybe even hate him for being so delusional.

“What are you all chatting about?” Marvin’s authoritative voice echoed as he walked over to the group.

“Oh hey, sergeant. We’re just talking about Leon’s ‘relationship’ with (Y/N),” They answered, quoting the “relationship”, “Look, he even has a picture with her,” They took the picture frame from Leon’s desk.

“I’m telling you, man it’s real!” Leon snapped.

Marvin took a good look at the picture frame, examining it, “Well, it doesn’t look edited to me,” He answered.

He was met with groans of disappointment, hoping they can drag Marvin in the teasing as well as the doors of the Raccoon City police station busted open and a woman’s yelling echoed inside, “OH! YOU ARE SO DEAD TO ME LAWYER WHEN HE HEARS THIS!”

The group glanced over as a woman in a pink fur coat, shades over her head and her white heels clack on the tiles. She is accompanied with a timid woman holding some papers and a bodyguard—who is dragging a man with his arms around his back. She approached the front desk with sheer determination, “Hello officer, I would like to report for sexual harassment,” She demanded.

Leon’s eyes widened when he saw the girl, it was you, in your cute, pink outfit as you demanded an officer to file a case. The group of officers listened in with your conversation, “What seems to be the case, Ma’am?” The officer at the front desk asked.

“This man over here just did the most vile thing—he grope my secretary’s butt in broad daylight!” You yelled, pointing an finger at him.

The man scoffed, “Fuck you mean, do you even have fucking proof?” He argued as he struggled under the tight hold of your bodyguard.

“Of course I have proof, I WAS RIGHT BESIDE HER!” You screamed, your voiced boomed inside the police station.

The man rolled his eyes, “Whatever, you women think you’re so great, when all you should do is strip naked and let the guys use you!” He taunted, angrily.

You gasped dramatically at the insult as your palm met his cheek, the loud slap echoed in the police station as your secretary held you back, “Ma’am, please don’t make it worse for you here!”

The group of officers realized the situation is getting heated and they stood up from their seats and assess the problem, “Take this man to the interrogation room, so that we can calm down the situation,” Marvin ordered as they take man to a different room.

“You’re lucky she’s holding me back or else I would’ve beat you up!” You yelled, angrily as you hastily fixed your fur coat, “And you on the other hand, why won’t you let me report him? He groped you in the middle of the street where everyone can see,” You scolded your secretary as she looked down to the floor, ashamed.

“Ma’am, we’ll take you to the interrogation room if you can please calm down,” Marvin said

You sighed as you fixed yourself, “I’m fine, just do something about that man. He can’t be let out in the streets,” You demanded as Marvin nodded.

You glanced around and saw a familiar blonde hair and blue eyes as you gasped excitedly, “OH MY GOD! MY BABY!”

Quickly, you ran up to Leon and jumped in his embrace—your legs wrapped around his torso as you littered kisses all over his face, your lipstick imprinting kiss marks on his cheeks, “Hi baby, how are you? I’m so sorry I haven’t been sending you anything, I was just so busy and…” You started ranting about your hectic schedule as Leon looked around and the police officers stood there in shock on how affectionate you are with him.

“Uhm.. Baby, I hate to say this but you’re still in the station,” You looked at him confusedly and realized. Your eyes widened as you got off his embrace and blushed shyly, “I’m so sorry. We haven’t seen each other for a while,”

They all dismissed the situation but they still couldn’t believe it—their rookie cop, Leon is actually dating you, a famous and hot model. You were everyone’s icon for fashion and everyone admire you because of your beauty alone, and yet your here, flirting with Leon.

“Had you have your lunch, baby?” You questioned.

Leon scratched his head, “Well… I had a small lunch but—” as soon as he answered that you cut him off.

“That can’t be! You should be full so that you can work properly!” You exclaimed, “How about we have lunch to that restaurant downtown?” You grinned.

Leon sheepishly blushed, “R-Right now?! But—” You turned away to call your secretary.

“Can you cancel all of my plans for today? I wanna spend some time with my boyfriend,” You ordered.

She looked at you in shock, “Wh-What?! But you have an interview at 2,” She reminded, flipping through the clipboard.

You rolled your eyes, “And? I wanna spend time with my boyfriend instead of some boring interview,” You whined.

She gave you a look before sighing, “You are the boss” she mumbled under her breathe as she started crossing out every plan.

You giggled before dragging Leon by his arm, on the way out of the police station, “This is gonna be so exciting, I miss you so much,” You leaned up to kiss his lips.

Leon chuckled as he kisses you back, “I miss you too,” He grinned as you both walked to the downtown restaurant, finally together in each other’s arms.

[baocean]

𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

⤷ chapter two - o week

her phone

being with the girls was probably one of your favorite things ever. all gathered around the kitchen table, laughing about the latest drama or something silly cleo’s professor said, picking at pieces from sarah’s plate because she said she was too full.

the group had formed slowly. you and kie lived together. kie and jj were best friends. jj played lacrosse with pope, john, and rafe. cleo and sarah were pope and john's girlfriends. as the first semester of your freshman year unraveled, more people started to get invited to the hangouts in dorms or on dark lacrosse fields after games.

by now, it was your own little family at kildare. family, even if you really only liked five out of the seven members.

jj maybank and rafe cameron were like carbon copies of each other. like birds to a feather, the became attached at the hip the second they were introduced during their visit to sign with kildare back when they were juniors in high school. you were pretty sure they were secretly in love with each other.

they were both self proclaimed 'chick magnets', were both annoying beyond manageable, and had this infuriating way of taking up every ounce of attention the second they walked into a room.

you tolerated them, mostly because you had to. tolerated jj’s smug winks across the table, tolerated rafe’s stupid dares that always somehow roped you in, tolerated the way they’d team up to poke and prod at you until you either snapped or laughed, depending on the day.

sometimes you wondered how you hadn’t committed a crime yet. other times, when jj tossed a bag of your favorite candy at your head mid-study session, or when rafe distracted professors long enough for you to sneak in late, you sort of got it.

the kitchen was loud- forks clinking, sarah giggling about something cleo said, kie tossing her head back laughing, when the front door slammed open so hard one of the pictures on the wall tilted sideways.

"hide your sisters, hide your friends!" rafe’s voice bellowed through the house, just as he and jj crashed inside.

"jesus christ," kiara muttered from her spot at the kitchen table, barely glancing up from her wine glass.

“where you guys at?” john b’s voice rang out from the entry way.

you barely had time to turn in your seat before four very sweaty boys stumbled into the kitchen.

“you animals,” rafe gasped, dropping his gym bag on the floor like he was wounded. “you didn’t even wait?”

jj was right behind him, flushed from lifting and breathing a little heavier than normal, shooting you a look like you’d personally betrayed him.

"you said you'd be late, pope said to eat without you guys." kie pointed to pope, shrugging her shoulders.

john b came around the table, looking dramatically heartbroken, and leaned down to steal a bite of sarah’s plate. sarah smacked his hand away but was smiling, all fond and fake-annoyed.

“you know what?” jj announced, tossing his arm over your chair dramatically. “i expected betrayal from kie. and cleo. even sarah. but you?” he pointed at you, a fake look of disapointment crossing his features. “you were supposed to be different.”

you shook your head, pushing his arm off. “you’ll survive, jj.”

he fake staggered back like you’d shot him. “i might not.”

"there's more in the fridge." sarah rolled her eyes, smiling anyways when john leant down to place a kiss on her cheek.

jj slid into the seat next to you, knocking his knee into yours hard enough to make you jolt. you shot him a glare. he just grinned like he hadn’t done anything wrong, already reaching across the table to grab the salt.

the kitchen was loud, messy in the way only your group could manage- pope and cleo arguing over who could lift more weight, sarah and john b sharing a plate and whispering to each other like no one else existed, rafe dramatically reenacting his latest gym injury.

someone spilled a drink. someone else shouted about it. sarah’s laughter carried over it all, bright and wild.

kiara rolled her eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. "you’re all so annoying," she said, but there was no real heat behind it. not when the house was full of everyone she loved.

yourusername: we’re back!

kiaracarrera: we are SO back baby

rafecam: i thought you had music taste

↳ yourusername: go ride the bench some more

↳ rafecam: RUDE?

sarahcam: i love u let's make love

↳ yourusername: ok 🩷

cleoanderson: ROUND 2

johnbroutledge: yup yup yup

popeheyward: 🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼

jjmaybank: ooooooooooooooo weeeeeeeeeekkkkkk

rafecam: kiss me bro

↳ jjmaybank: bro i will

popeheyward: not o week 😔

kiaracarrera: yikes

↳ jjmaybank: dwayne get out of my comment section

↳ kiaracarrera: bitch shut up

sarahcam: the robes PLEASE

cleoanderson: awwwww look at the little cuties in their little robes

↳ jjmaybank: we so cute ☺️☺️

xoxo, mimi

masterlist | next chapter

taglist (taglist is open!) @babyamors / @jombies / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1 / @cassiewritessalot / @rottinglexi / @certifiedjjsimp / @str4wb3rrym1lkl0v3r / @cinderellieeeeeeeeeeee / @isinpfortvdmen / @doesnt-care / @dylsdaily / @wasiasproject / @chuuuchuuutrain / @dr3amgrlll / @4jjsbank / @abigailovesz / @lmaowhatt / @idli-dosa / @papercranesandinkstains / @dramagodesss / @ayy1234567 / @wrtzia / @reeseswirl / @mrrayjay / @cokewithcameron / @dr3amgrlll /

[jelloapocalypse]

If I'm not mistaken (and I fully could be so please let me know if I am) but didn't you used to be much closer to 2 million subscribers? I swear I remember seeing you at like 1.98 or something.

Either way, is there a good way to support you on Youtube? Or is that something I shouldn't worry about too much? Do you know if there's a good way to promote your videos to the algorithm that will have a good effect?

I've been hovering in the 1.8-1.9M range for like ~3 years or so now. The internet as it is now only boosts consistent uploads that are 15+ minutes long or TikTok-style vertical videos that are <2 minutes long with captions.

I don't do either of those and I have no interest in pivoting my stuff in that direction, so I think it's likely I'll probably never hit 2 million. It is what it is.

Subscribers have mattered less and less over the years. I remember them feeling really valuable in like... maybe pre-2015 when your subscriptions were at the top of your homepage and they prioritized showing you the stuff you said you were actually interested in, but now the sub page is super buried and unless you sign up for individual notifications from a channel you probably won't even know they uploaded anymore.

The internet is a slave to algorithms now. Stuff gets popular pretty much entirely independent of subscription count.

Jenny Nicholson and Hbomb are two of my favorite YouTubers who make absolutely incredible marathon-length videos once or twice a year (which is the exact type of thing you'd want subscriptions for), and even though both of them have been putting out mega-viral documentary-length videos every year for the last three years or so, their sub counts haven't exploded. People write articles on the things they make, in real publications too. New York Times and HuffPost shit. Yet both of them have less subs than me. Jenny has 1.3M and Hbomb has 1.8M which is insane. They should both be at like 3M+ easily for the stuff they make, and if they had the popularity they do now back in 2012, they probably would have the equivalent to that.

By the same token, I have a streaming channel that I do fully-voiced readthroughs of games on and there are people who try to watch almost every stream that often show up late and complain about how YouTube never notifies them. They had to hear about it via a friend on Discord even though they're subscribers AND they have notifications on. Being subscribed quite literally does not do anything these days.

It's worth noting that YT subs aren't really reflective of a channel's overall "health", if you want to call it that. My streaming channel has been doing really well the last two months. We played Danganronpa for charity and had the best viewership we ever got with 1100-1600 viewers for any given episode, which is really high. That's like Top 0.1% of Twitch numbers. We also get a ton of donations and artwork from our fans and watch time is up 40% from the last month right now. Forty percent. That's crazy!

But our sub count keeps dropping. We lose about 100 subscribers a month, for whatever reason. But isn't that weird? That literally every other metric on your channel can be skyrocketing while subscribers go down? It seems like they really don't matter.

We've had over 100k subscribers for a year and a half now, but YouTube still hasn't mailed us that plaque. I doubt they ever will. I'd be surprised if anyone on their staff even checks that anymore. Today's internet is focused on keeping viewers moving to new content and showing them as many ads as possible while they do it. There isn't as much of a benefit to keeping someone watching one particular person anymore.

I appreciate you trying to support us! I think just watching our stuff when you feel like it and maybe showing your favorite videos to friends every once in awhile if you think they'll like it is the best thing you can do. If even one person ends up watching and binging all my Epithet stuff that's like 6 hours of watchtime right there.

[kyuuppi]

private server (1/?)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (she/her)

Tags: slow burn (?), internet friends to lovers, reader is a corporate slave with social anxiety, Kenma is a bit sassy and bad with feelings, lots of game references (Minecraft, DBD, Marvel Rivals, etc.), vtuber stereotypes, modern au

Words: 2.7k

Every 7pm after work, you boot up your old laptop and log onto Discord, where you begin a voice call in the private server only the two of you share. Kenma seems to have a natural sense for what you want to play just by hearing your tone when you greet him.

On your good nights, he allows you to practice duoing in the FPS games he’s known for playing. He takes on the role of support without a single complaint while you play DPS, regardless of how badly you feed. If anyone on the enemy team calls out your poor performance, Kenma makes it a point to repeatedly kill them in the most triggering ways.

On the nights you come on exhausted from a rough day at work, Kenma wordlessly boots up Stardew Valley or Minecraft, allowing the two of you to relax to the soundtrack in a comfortable silence.

Something about his quiet presence always eases your mind, and more often than not, you find yourself rambling about the things on your mind while the two of you play. The annoying habits of your coworkers, your biggest fears, the new dressing you tried on your salad at lunch–you end up eventually spilling everything to him while he quietly listens, occasionally making a soft hum or comment that lets you know he’s still there. 

In the beginning, you always worried that you were talking too much and boring this famous internet celebrity with the inconsequential details of your boring life. The moment you realized you were ranting, you’d suddenly cut yourself off with an embarrassed apology.

But that’s when Kenma would surprise you the most–rather than allowing the call to fall into the silence he seemed so comfortable with, he would ask a question so specific, and often related to a past bit of information you forgot you even told him, that it becomes clear he was listening to every word from the beginning. 

It was one of the things that made you realize you liked him more than you should. 

Kenma’s calm disposition had you confiding in him about thoughts you hadn’t even told your best friends, and he never made you feel judged or insignificant for them. Although he almost never started conversations, he always answered any questions you asked with a level of openness that surprised you, like he trusted you just as much as you trusted him. 

Even if–per the extensive searches you did on Twitter, Reddit, and even 4chan–you were 97% sure Kenma was single, you doubted he was interested in dating anyone, let alone dating someone like you who seemed to live in a completely different reality from him.

As your feelings developed, you spent more time than you’d like to admit imagining what type of partner would suit Kenma.

Of course, they would have to be someone with extensive video game knowledge who could match his own. Probably a professional gamer or maybe someone who worked in the industry. The long-haired gamer girls with high-pitched voices and hyper-pink bedrooms who frequently appear in your feed came to mind. All of them had dedicated fan bases full of men and women alike praising their good looks and fun personalities. Many were more than just pretty faces but also great gamers–certainly much better than you in nearly every metric. 

But somehow you struggled to picture Kenma–who spoke in soft low tones and wore the same black hoodie nearly every stream–dating any of them. 

You had considered some VTubers as well – you knew Kenma was mutuals with several big names and occasionally retweeted their merch drops. But that theory died after one particular conversation you had with Kenma over a casual Minecraft session. Feeling particularly insecure, you asked him about his thoughts on a trending busty bunny VTuber all your male coworkers had been chattering about over lunch, to which he responded with a deadpan, “she’s probably just another middle-aged man catfishing simps like most of them are.”  

The only remaining option you could see was some mystery person he knew in real life–perhaps a childhood friend or another streamer who mutually agreed to keep the relationship private.

In one of the rare times Kenma spoke to you about the people he knows in real life, he mentioned an “annoying” childhood friend who is always coming over to his house uninvited and an old rival from high school who now plays professional volleyball in Brazil. While you questioned the likeliness of such a long distance relationship between a professional athlete and a famous streamer, the fondness with which Kenma spoke of him made your chest feel hot with envy. For your own sake, you stopped contemplating Kenma’s romantic life after that and resigned yourself to just savoring the few hours of his time you get every night. 

The first shift in your friendship began in late April.

As a result of one of your coworkers falling sick with the flu, your supervisor assigned you to a cross-country business trip at the last minute. The abrupt shift in responsibilities from you background role in information management to direct client contact overwhelmed you and your usual routine with your internet crush was the last thing on your mind as you raced to pack an overnight suitcase and research clients you had never dealt with before. 

For the first time since you began talking to Kenma three months ago, you missed a gaming session without so much as a message. 

The trip ended up being busier than you had expected even with the support of your coworker who patiently led you through some of the more complicated business etiquette.

By the time you reached your hotel room late that first night, you were exhausted. Still, you had attempted to install the Discord app on your phone to at least give Kenma an apology for your absence. Discord was the only way contact information the two of you had of each other and up until now you had even preferred it that way, You were very intentional in keeping your Twitter where you retweet rather spicy anime fanart and K-pop idol abs top secret from him–not that his verified account with 300k followers would ever follow you back in the first place. 

However, the spotty hotel WiFi proved incompatible with Discord’s large file size, and you gave up after half an hour, stuck at 3% downloaded.  As you closed your heavy eyelids for the night, you mentally assured yourself that Kenma would understand your sudden absence–he is incredibly busy most of the day with his own business and recently complained about an upcoming collaboration with a famous clothing brand that has been demanding a large chunk of his time. He might be so busy himself that he doesn’t even notice you’re gone.

With that thought in mind, you drift out of consciousness to get a few hours of rest before your morning meetings. 

Three days later–two days longer than planned due to a misplaced thumbdrive and storm weather delaying flights–you find yourself finally on the familiar last train back to your apartment.

You twist your ankle restlessly in your work shoes, heels aching from being on your feet for the better part of the week. You utilize the half hour of freetime to finally check your socials. Several unopened emails from online shop subscriptions sat at the top of your personal email inbox, a few life updates from your friends in your texts, and an upcoming world tour from your favorite idols on Twitter. You make a mental note to respond to a group chat about everyone’s availability for the next “charcuterie board night” tomorrow morning. 

The last app you check is Instagram, expecting the usual posts from your college friends on vacations abroad or getting engaged that usually fill you with a sense of envy you don’t like to dwell on. You’re slightly surprised to see the note of a follow request and subsequent new message request in your DMs. You expect the usual influencer scam or sugar daddy bot expressing “interest in your page”. Instead, you see a very brief set of messages from a profile with no picture.

19:42 @ kodzu_ken2: hey this is kenma from discord

Your heart flutters despite yourself as you keep reading.

19:43 @ kodzu_ken2: u havent been online in a while…r u ok?

20:01 @ kodzu_ken2: we dont have to play ofc, we can just talk if ur tired

20:06 @ kodzu_ken2: or if u dnt wanna talk we can just b quiet in call

Kodzuken does not have an official Instagram–you know that for a fact because it was one of the first places you tried to follow him when a clip of his streams first came across your feed. And even if he did, you never shared your own Instagram handle with him so there was no way for him to follow you as your Discord name was completely different.

You tap on the default grey profile picture to his page and it is empty as expected. His bio and name are both left blank with 0 posts, 0 followers, and 0 following–evidence of a brand new profile.

In any other circumstance you would think it was a scam–perhaps one of the thousands of unofficial “kodzuken” pages on Instagram posting fanart and meme edits of the man. But the way of typing–from the shorthand to the word choice are so clearly the Kenma you’ve spent the past 3 months talking to. Moreover, your absence from your regular game sessions is something only Kenma would know about–not even your closest friends know that you’ve secretly been hanging out with a famous steamer. 

You’re typing back a reply before you realize it. 

22:46 @ yn_tofu: Hi Ken!! Sorry I didn’t message you sooner, I got forced into a business trip last minute at work 😵‍💫 I just got back to Tokyo a few hours ago

You nearly drop your phone when the message status immediately changes to “Read.”

@ kodzu_ken2 is typing…

22:47 @ kodzu_ken2: its ok 

You chuckle quietly at how Kenma his brief response is. An elderly man seated across from you shoots you an odd look before going back to his novel. 

22:47 @ kodzu_ken2: do u wanna play tonight?

Startled, you glance up at the information panel above the train door.  Five more stops until your station–then the trek to your apartment with a suitcase–even if you speed walk it’ll take at least another half hour until you’re seated in front of your computer. Your sessions with Kenma are usually well over by then–you finishing your night routine to prepare for bed then work the next day and Kenma starting his regular nighttime streaming session. Your chest clenches in preemptive disappointment.

22:49 @ yn_tofu: I would love to but I won’t be home for another 30 min 😭 

22:49 @ kodzu_ken2: thats ok. ill wait for u

You barely muffle a frustrated screech at how your heart skips a beat over the last sentence. The old man pointedly shoots you a glare before standing as the train comes to a stop. He shuffles off and the train doors shutter closed behind him as you clumsily type your reply. 

22:50 @ yn_tofu: Are you sure??? Don’t you start streaming around that time? I don’t wanna make you late or anything… ;;

22:51 @ kodzu_ken2: my stream is cancelled today

Cancelled? You feel your brows knit in concern as the train jolts to a start. It is rare that Kodzuken cancels a stream–in fact you can’t recall a single instance since you’ve known him. He generally plans his schedules several weeks in advance, posting the upcoming month’s schedule on the last Friday of the month without fail. When he takes vacations–like the time he told you he was going to Brazil to see his friend’s volleyball tournament, your brain mercilessly reminds you–he still streams for at least an hour from his temporary lodging.

22:51 @ yn_tofu: Oh no, did something happen? :( 

22:52 @ yn_tofu: I thought this week you’re playing that new Marvel Rivals game everyone requested…

As the train rolls to another stop you absently realize he’s taking a little longer to reply now. That’s fine of course–you’re just one of his many fans, maybe a casual Discord friend at best. He’s under no obligation to reply right away. 

22:56 @ kodzu_ken2: no, just dnt feel like it today. ill make up for it tomorrow

22:57 @ yn_tofu: Oh yeah? How do you plan to do that?

22:57 @ yn_tofu: Are you gonna finally do that Nagi from Blue Lock cosplay all your fans have been begging for? :p 

22:57 @ kodzu_ken2: ew no way in hell

22:58 @ kodzu_ken2: ill just spam that venom twerking emote in lobby. pretty sure thts the only reason ppl wanted me to stream tht game anyway 😐

You laugh out loud at both Kenma’s rare use of emoji and the mental image of him, blank-faced, spamming the infamous twerking emote in a stream while his chat goes crazy. 

22:58 @ yn_tofu: Idk kinda sus that was your first thought, Ken 🤨

22:58 @ yn_tofu: Its okay to admit you like Venom’s ass, this is a safe space 🫶

22:59 @ kodzu_ken2: i just gagged

22:59 @ kodzu_ken2: im not like u, i dont buy dlc just to stare at charas asses all game

23:00 @ yn_tofu: Omg I told you I did NOT buy Pyramid Head for his ass!! He is actually a really good killer…

23:00 @ kodzu_ken2: idk kinda sus that he was your first thought 🤨

23:00 @ yn_tofu: I hope you remember this convo when I’m kicking your ass in Smash in 20 min >:(

“Now arriving at Asakusabashi Station. The doors on the right side will open.”

The call of your station on the speakers jolts you out of your conversation and you scramble to gather your bags as the train doors open. 

Even rolling a stuffed suitcase and wearing heels you reach your apartment in record time, eager to hear Kenma’s voice for the first time in three days. Stripping off the top layers of your business suit, you don’t bother unpacking anything and just leave your bags, blazer, and shoes in a pile at the front door before taking the three steps to get to the desk next to your bed. 

You tap your bare foot impatiently while the fans of your ancient laptop loudly whirl to life. For once Discord seems not to require an update to open and you click the call button next to Kenma’s name without hesitation. 

He picks up in the first ring. 

“Hi,” you greet into your headset. You aren’t sure if it's from the excitement of talking to Kenma or the three flights of stairs you just hiked up but your voice sounds embarrassingly breathy to your own ears. 

“Hey,” he replies as coolly as usual. The familiar sounds of buttons click faintly in his background. Your chest feels warm and a tension you didn’t know you had leaves your shoulders as you relax into your swivel chair. 

“On my trip I saw some really cool architecture–Kyushu kinda looks like how I imagine Germany–anyway, I was thinking we can make a little cathedral for that empty space in our minecraft world we were talking about last week–”

“We can do that later.”

You bite your tongue, caught off guard by the abrupt dismissal. Wasn’t he the one who asked you to play with him tonight? Did you misunderstand something?

“Is your Switch charged?” He asks.

Said device sits conveniently plugged in at the corner of your desk when you glance over. 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Hurry up and log on then. I heard someone is planning to ‘kick my ass in Smash’ tonight and there’s a new Robin combo I’ve been wanting to test out,” Kenma drawls.

You can practically feel the smirk in his voice and you loudly groan as you reach for your Switch and mentally prepare for the inevitable slaughter.

a/n: Thank you for reading!! This is the first thing I've written in like a year ?? so ik its prob not great. :,,) When I start writing I usually just start with one scene and see where it goes then think of what character would fit the writing best but it almost always ends up being Kenma LOL. I fear he is truly my default.