#it’s like the floor orange all over again

[triscribeaucollection]

(Fiddling around with a new MCU time travel idea)

There are a couple of kids in Tony’s living room.

Well- there’s one bonafide child, early elementary school age, and then one teenager somewhere on the cusp of young adulthood. But Tony would bet if he put their ages together and divided by two, he’d get a number in the realm of ‘should probably still have a babysitter when the parents go out for an evening’, ergo, kids.

They’re still asleep, for the moment. Or, unconscious, rather. Not awake, at any rate, and they haven’t been since falling through a big glowing circle into his living room, teenager curled protectively around the little girl. Which is a little annoying for two reasons; first and foremost, Tony has questions, but also he’d rather not have Pepper or anyone else walk in and demand to know why there are two unconscious children lying on his sofa.

That’s just such an awkward question. Though he does at least have proof in the form of security footage that the pair arrived by means entirely beyond Tony’s control. Speaking of which; Tony flicks a finger, and JARVIS dutifully rewinds said footage to the beginning, and plays at an again-reduced speed. Ultimate slo-mo doesn’t reveal any answers, however. There’s no prior warning before the light flares, startling video-Tony into spilling his coffee as he crosses the room, and no hints to be found beyond swirling white and orange as the kids fall through. The light vanishes as soon as they’re clear, then the boy hits the floor, hard. There are honest to goodness cracks in Tony’s floor, he had JARVIS run a scan on the structure beneath his lovely thick carpeting just to check.

No cracks in the kid’s bones, though. And- okay, in all honesty, questions and unknowns and everything else aside, Tony does prefer it that way, rather than the reverse.

As far as JARVIS could tell with further scanning, neither kid bore any injuries - just some lingering traces of quantum energy, fading further with every minute. With any luck, as soon as that finishes up, there’ll be some waking up and answering of questions.

Though of course Tony couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while he waited.

The little girl is definitely wearing designer brand clothing: durable sneakers, high quality shorts and collared shirt, a lightweight jacket that wouldn’t look out of place in a magazine for children’s spring collections. Also, just to hammer home the fact she comes from money, JARVIS detected extremely sophisticated tracking beacons inside every single garment. Even the socks. Tiny devices, clearly some kind of advanced nanotech... With a mini Stark Industries logo etched onto each one.

Trouble is, Tony’s never made beacons this small and impressive before.

Her watch is a similar conundrum. It’s red and yellow, clearly meant to look like any other cheap Iron Man themed child’s decoration, except for housing what Tony would swear is the same sort of satellite connection he puts into all of his suits for JARVIS to link up with. Top of the line encryption, tiny hologram projection, more tracking software with options to send specific distress calls, and all of it bio-locked, which- which should have been a problem. Even without an AI present in the device to fight him, it should have taken Tony significant time to crack through the locks and get a good look at the watch’s internal circuitry. Instead, it- recognized him. Recognized his bio-signature, and let him in.

He’s still mulling over the implications of that one.

Now, the teenager, there lie some other mysteries. Far shabbier clothing, for one thing. The ragged shoes alone look like they’ve picked up grime walking from one side of NYC to the other and back. Jeans with a faded appearance that’s not artistic enough to be artificially crafted; sweatshirt that has some amateur stitchwork patching up the elbows; t-shirt with holes in the hem and a cartoon character Tony didn’t recognize on the chest.

Thing is, JARVIS didn’t recognize the character either. Not even after running a search through the whole dang internet. And it wasn’t an indie creation, there was very definitely a Disney logo on the shirt’s tag, where it stuck up from the back of the collar.

And then there’s what the kid’s got under his clothes.

No, Tony did not undress him, but peeking out from under the cuffs of that sweatshirt and visible in the gap between pants and shoes is a very different sort of material. Durable, flexible, extremely form-fitting to be hidden so well by regular garments. Physically rifling through the kid’s sweatshirt pockets turned up a pair of gloves and mask, too. Very Halloween-y, Tony would probably jump out of his skin if he turned around to find those big white eyes looming out of the dark. Attached to the gloves, he also found a couple of small gadgets, fairly sophisticated, capable of spitting out an atrocious substance clear across the room. A large, sticky web still occupies the far wall by his bar as proof.

Those, Tony gingerly set down next to the girl’s watch, to be considered later. When their owners are awake, and capable of telling him things like hey don’t touch that button.

In the meantime, he’s finally accepted there isn’t much left to do but wait, idly replaying the security footage over and over, less idly hoping there’s some kind of change before any company arrives.

His luck, perhaps predictably, falls through.

“Sir,” JARVIS announces into the otherwise quiet room. “Miss Potts is on her way up.”

With a long, drawn out, highly exasperated sigh, Tony sets his empty glass aside and stands to face the music.

---

“Time travel,” Pepper says flatly. That’s a very clear, Pepperish tone of you can’t be serious. But before Tony has a chance to voice his defense, she’s already sighing, and bringing up a hand to rub at the bridge of her nose. “Why do you think this is time travel?”

So he starts reviewing the data.

The cartoon character that doesn’t exist yet only earns a raised eyebrow - when Tony gets into the particulars of the girl’s watch and trackers, Pepper looks a little less unamused, a little more disconcerted. Pointing out the boy’s suit and gadgets and drawing her attention to the web still occupying his wall even earns two whole startled blinks. “That’s... Tony.”

“Yeah.”

“Tony.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, fully in agreement. “But it’s either time travel, or R&D has been doing some serious overtime tinkering without letting either of us know!”

Pepper rubs a hand over her face, sighing again. When she pulls it away, her gaze goes to the pair of kids, girl still held in the boy’s arms, both of them laying on their sides where Tony managed to haul them up onto his sofa when the whole bizarre event began. “What do we do, then?”

“Not much we can do, besides haul them down to the infirmary and try injecting things to induce an early wake-up call.” Even as he says it, Tony swipes up and enlarges the holo-window with the energy reading and its total dissipation countdown. T-minus eight hundred and seventy-three seconds. “Otherwise, wait to see if anything happens in about fifteen minutes.”

Pepper let loose her third sigh, and went to get a glass of wine.

[screampied]

❛ PHEREMOANED ?! ❜ t. fushiguro

☆ sum. after three long years in the slammer, toji returns home to you—his pretty sweet fiancé. to surprise him, you decided to spray on your new expensive pheromone perfume. was it the best idea? probably not. you wanted to tease him, not make him feral.

warnings. fem! reader, ex-convict toji, pwp, feral toji, scent kink, unprotected, manhandling, size kink, cúnnilingus (he eats it from the back), toji has a tongue piercing, brēeding, marathon séx, choking, spít, impact play, hair pulling, overstim, tummy bulges, overstim.

wc. 6.2k

toji fushiguro never knew how to stay out of trouble—he had a temper and that wasn’t really a surprise.

he’s lucky he got released early on good behavior. three years, one thousand and ninety-five days, twenty six thousand hours and thirty six months spent apart from him. regardless though, you were patient—making sure to visit him during visiting hours and all. but the day he gets released, you get an idea. scrolling online, you read an article about pheromone perfume and skimmed across some pretty eye-catching stories. you ordered it about two weeks prior, waiting for his release to actually try it. spritzing a few good sprays on yourself, you wait by the front door where one of his friends, presumably shiu was dropping him off at.

creaaaak, the wooden door opens and there stands toji. he’s still in his orange jumpsuit, tresses of shaggy sable bangs brushing down his eyes, briefly occluding his vision. “hey, girl,” he gruffs, catching you in his arms once you tackle him into a hug. his big big arms cage you in before he kisses the top of your head. “missed y-”

toji pauses, and you let off a gasp once he abruptly digs his face inside the crook of your neck. “hn. . new perfume, baby?” good, so it really does work. his scarred hands rest toward your hips before he starts to sniff all down your neck, groaning against your skin.

“y- yeah,” you stammer, feeling his hands grip against your blouse. “you like? it was on sale.”

“i love it but it’s damn strong,” he murmurs, and out of nowhere—he lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder. a giggle nearly leaves from your lips as he starts to trod toward the bedroom, loud boots clanking against the marble-made floor. “did you spray it between your legs too? fuck, you’re just asking to be ruined tonight, baby.”

well shit.

everything happens so fast,

one second you’re hugging your fiancé who just got released from prison and the next, he’s tossing you on the bed, making you spread your legs.

you’ve seen a lot of different faces of toji but this, this was entirely new. he’s got the type of look in his eyes where he wants something and he won’t hesitate to take it . . even if that something is you.

seeing you like this, sprawled all out on the bed with that cute perplexed expression of yours, fuck.

three years. three years without any kinds of physical contact he had to endure, and with the addition of your new pheromone perfume. perhaps you had some kind of death wish.

“spread ‘em,” he huffs, clicking his tongue. toji’s eyes were already hooded and half-lidded. he’s panting already and he’s not even looking at you.

just from staring between your legs, he could almost taste you on his tongue - his tastebuds were already salivating at the carnal thought. toji’s verdant dim eyes stare straight between your legs, right near the very crevices. “wait, no,” and you gasp again once he flips you over, making you flop down on your chest. “ass up baby. i don’t wanna look at you right now. wanna look at her.”

his hands were so hot, quite literally.

his bare palms had all kinds of scars painted near the centers with such rough texture as he feels against your ass. you try to suppress an incoming moan as your back willingly arches forward. your cheek’s being smushed against the silky red cover of your own pillow before he leans in.

toji’s wetly kisses against your ass cheek, nearly ripping your skirt in two. “mhm,” he groans, and even now, he’s still smelling you. your legs start to shake and quiver once he’s smelling every part of your thighs. toji drags his nose up and down, he’s making sure he can take in all of your perfume, he even licks down your legs. you’ve seen him feral before but never like this. his palm continues to rub against your skin before the button tip of his nose reaches toward your panties. “fuck, don’t know how much i missed you, princess.”

“t- toji,” you whine through gritted teeth, and he’s flicking his tongue against the lace pad of your panties. your smell, it was so good - he just couldn’t get enough.

it scratched a obscene itch in his brain, making him so aroused—so much so that you weren’t helping the strain in his jumpsuit sweats at all. toji’s boner was almost painful, it prods against the thin fabric of his jumpsuit and your scent only made his throbbing so much worse.

his hair tickles against the corners of your thighs as you feel his warm breath ghost against your sopping entrance. oh, right. you were kind of sort of a bit drenched—you had played with yourself out of pure boredom. you failed to make yourself finish but he didn’t have to know that.

toji noticed right away and he raises a brow, two pinching fingers pulling your panties to the side. “she’s soaked,” he utters in a low voice—he sounds almost offended. “wonder why that is.”

you let off a broken moan once he peels your panties to the side with just his teeth, dragging a fat swollen thumb right down your drooling slit. “fuckk, smell so good baby but i bet you taste even better.”

and within seconds, his tongue delves right between your legs. once he starts—there’s no prying him off. whenever it was pussy involved, toji was an animal.

he could eat you out for hours, no breaks, not caring at all if his jaw locks and tightens. he ate you out as if it wants some sort of competition, and he’d always get a gold medal. every single time. .

you’re facing the opposite way while he’s eating you from behind, two open palms squeezing against both soft cheeks of your ass. the tiny ball of his piercing gradually flicks against your clit and you nearly let off a shriek. the stimulation has you gasping for air and it felt so good—you’ve never felt more sensitive.

toji spreads your ass wider, dipping his lengthy wet tongue in and out before spitting down your entrance. “ptf,” and it’s a glossy slimy trail that dribbles straight down the cracked slope of your ass before oozing near your puffy pussy. it’s so sloppy, he laps it right up before spitting on it again and again.

toji hasn’t tasted you in forever, three years felt like forever and he wanted to make sure he’d make up for lost time - with his tongue.

“mhm, keep squirmin’ doll, see where it gets ya,” he’d gruff in a husky tone, feeling your entire body starting to writhe and shudder all from his mouth.

despite his jaw already locking—his face was flushed and tears of sweat sprayed against his forehead. even still, the dark haired man showed no signs of fatigue. you just tasted so sweet, and your loud pheromonal smell made things worse.

you slouch back against the cushioned mattress, peering behind you to see him sloppily give your pulsating cunt three second slurps. fuck, his tongue. it was so long.

you felt every extending inch of it trace and curl all throughout the swollen walls of your pussy. he had to make sure your pretty pussy remembered who it belonged to. his rosy pink tip swirls around and around, side to side, up and down—he makes it toy in every witch direction. toji then starts to merrily spell out the thirteen notorious letters of his name over and over.

t - o - j - i - f - u - s - h - i - g - u - r - o.

once his tongue curls in such a slick spiraling manner, your tummy heaves once he spells out the letter ‘s’ with his tongue. it twirls from up to down, and he even grumbles out the letters under his breath in that low, raspy voice.

two big hands cling onto your rickety thighs before he spanks your ass once he sees you trying to reach down between your thighs to touch yourself. “watch it, little girl,” he snarls, the sudden pitchy tone in his rough voice making you throb right on his tongue. he’s practically making out with your cunt now, french kissing your slobbering entrance. toji’s just casually nose deep, taking every few seconds to smell against your clit. “she’s mine.”

“tojiiii—” you moan, continuing to rock your unsteady hips back into his face. toji’s patchy stubble rubs all over against your skin until it’s just profusely dripping from your slick juices.

the scar that runs down the right side of his lip smears against you also. it feels so rough as it scraps against your folds. your pussy twitches as he starts to drag his face back and forth against your slick and you gasp once his tongue slides further up.

up, up, up until it reaches there.

“ah, now what do we got ourselves here,” he whispers, and you moan once he plugs a fat thumb against your puckering hole.

your teeth dig into the cottony fluff of the pillow that’s sat right in front of you. toji’s thumb, he circles it around before lolling out his tongue. even though you’re not directly facing him, you can just hear how wet it is—how wet you are.

you’re squelching so loud that it bounces off the walls, ricocheting against every peeling corner.

the syrupy saliva that departs and smacks from his lips once he open his mouth. “god, ‘yer fuckin’ wet, baby. just for me,” he murmurs, and he creates a long slippery slicking trail from the starting point of your throbbing clitoral hood all the way until he reaches your hole. he pauses as sheeny drool following his mouth. saliva continues to slip away from his wry crooked lips as his lips open and close. he’s fucking sloppy.

it was no secret—toji fushiguro was feral, happily smearing his face against your cunt whilst his tongue multitasks, licking near your ass.

it’s a sensation that almost tickles but oh, you weren’t laughing. your toes curl up in pure ecstasy and your face scrunches as he’s just devouring you whole like the starved man he was.

“ngh, tojiiii,” you whine, feeling the luscious twirl of his fat long tongue run over against every part of your pussy. your estatic nerves felt it all, he was very precise and never missed a spot.

toji’s lip scar that swoops down the right curve of his mouth faintly brushes up near your clit as his head continues to move. he hears you ‘ooh’ at the ticklish feeling and he chortles darkly. he likes to loll out his tongue even further, repeatedly thwacking the center of his tongue against your clit just so you can grow dumb from his piercing.

with your chest continuously dipping and heaving, you’re shivering against the as he’s got a face full of your ass—he feels you reaching from behind, grabbing near his overgrown unkempt strands to give it a nice mean tug. you’re dragging his head against your pussy now, even if your grip was a bit weak. “ohmygod, ‘s gonna make me cum too quick, toji.”

“taste so sweet, he grumbles, your viscous slick gluing all against his reddened scarlet lips. toji continues to dip and delve his lengthy flat tongue in and out of your sweet puckering hole before trailing it back up towards your cunt.

you let off a pretty mewl that lasts for multiple seconds, feeling dewy saturated strings of his spit run away from his own two lips and slabber all over your wet flaps. if it’s one thing toji does, he makes sure that you’re always wet for him.

you’re biting your fist until your knuckles split, occasionally hearing him spit against your cunt again, using a clammy palm to smother it everywhere.

“my wet girl,” his lips purse, soft pants of breath fanning right against your slick. you’re frantically quavering—shaking, and those warm ghostly breaths that waft by your rear doesn’t make things any better. various tingles roam through your body as he’s eating you out from behind, savoring your taste entirely. “mhm, don’t get lazy on me now. shake y’er ass against my face, baby. fuck me back.”

you moan once he gives your right bare ass cheek a firm squeeze. cupping it into his palm, he spanks it before you obey his command. jolting soft skin recoils and jiggles against his face and toji snickers, lying his wide tongue even flatter against your exposed wet pussy.

“uh huh, atta girl, lemme taste all of you,” and as he’s slurping, it doesn’t take long before you’re shooting utter blanks yet again.

interrupting static deafens your ears as a roaring wave crashes through your veins. your knees abruptly buckle until you’re collapsing forward in the mattress and its silky sheets. only then do you now finish on his tongue, letting off a shrilling whine.

“mhm, there it is, there’s my sloppy baby,” and a lustrous stream of your sweetened juices spew down his chin. his chin’s now shiny, and your glistening slick even decorates his stubble.

“fuck,” he takes a moment to breathe, flicking his tongue against his lips. so sweet, toji’s dark eyes rove down at your cute elated state as you slumped into the pillows. you’re trying to crawl away but with two hands, he’s reeling you right back into him. “oh, no ya don’t. get back here, pretty girl,” and your lips part into an ‘o’ as you gasp, feeling his teeth playfully nibble against your pussy.

and toji doesn’t let you escape his grasp. not yet anyway, he was starving. he missed you, and his tongue showed that.

you hadn’t realized how much time’s passed whilst he’s between your legs—you’d guess it’s been a few hours since it was almost dusk now.

toji was a eater, he’s got you lied flat on your back now as he’s slurping you clean. his tongue flicks underneath his bottom lip, tasting the mess you caused that’s pouring down his slick chin. it’s probably been your fifth orgasm and your legs can barely hold themselves up.

“mhm,” and he’s just munching your pretty pussy, glossy strands of his own saliva mixing with your sap continues to dribble down his chin. he’s made such a mess, all because of you. “you sprayed between your legs, didn’t you baby?”

“n- no,” you lie, dragging his head back and forth against your cunt. you did, but to be fair you didn’t think it’d work. you thought it was just another scam. but it wasn’t — toji was here, eating you out as if your pussy was the last edible thing in world.

make no mistake, he was a filthy man. his entire chin’s cascading with a stream of your syrupy mess and he barely bats an eye. you didn’t know how much more you could take before he chuckles, finally departing his lips.

“you’re a bad liar,” and his voice grows deep again. you meet his eyes and that’s when toji makes you get on all fours again. “ass up. y’know the drill. atta girllll,” and you almost shiver from his touch. toji stares at your perked ass, bringing a palm towards your left templed cheek. smack, you moan from the abrupt sting before he later caresses it. “god, i missed you. those idiots wouldn’t even let me touch myself, baby. thought about you the entire time i was rottin’.”

and as he speaks, your cheek presses further against the pillow. toji tugs on his the sweats of his orange jumpsuit—the fabric writhes against his slim waist before falling down, now exposing his boxers. he watches as your ass writhes and he hums, springing out his thick cock. “shit, you don’t even realize how good you smell, do ya?”

“no,” you breathe, feeling a lump circle near the inside of your throat once he brings his tip towards your entrance.

it’s sopping wet, weeping with honeyed tears of slick before he smacks it against your puffy hood.

“fuuuck,” you whine out, the feeling of his bulbous mushroom tip bringing you so many memories. he brushes it down your sensitive slit and you feel the slimy remnants of precum that oozes off his frenulum. a hand of his wraps around his veiny length, giving it a few striking pumps before toji groans. “fuck me toji, f- fuckin’ hurry up.”

“now girl,” he brings another smack towards your rear. this time it’s harder, the recoil rings through your ears and makes you chew the inside of your cheek. “don’t rush me,” and as the bass in his voice pitches lowers and lower, you feel yourself pulsate right between your sprawled out thighs.

toji’s aligning himself, hearing your sloshing weeps sloppily exit out of your pussy. a wry smile compresses against his lips before he wraps a few fingers over the back of your throat with his free hand. “ ‘m gonna take my time with you. so, do me a favor baby. arch that pretty back ‘n shut the fuck up.”

it was such authority in his voice—despite his tip barely even being in, he felt your cunt twitching almost right away.

it makes him snicker to himself, caressing your stinging back side with a scarred bare hand.

“good girl,” and he leans further in, taking yet another whiff of your salaciously rich scent. “here it comes,” he lowly purrs, and you bite your lip once he’s finally entering inside of you.

toji’s slow, purposely. he loves more than anything to see your patience wearing thin, squirming and just aching for a crumb of dick. as he’s perfectly aligned, his swollen angered cockhead gradually starts to disappear inside of your pussy.

“biiiiig stretch, there we go babygirl. take it.” and you’re moaning at each ridiculous inch burying its way inside of you. with little to no ease at all, he’s mending your squashy walls and shaping them all due to the size of his thick cock.

he’s so big, so big that his dick makes your tummy cave in a bit and your thighs start to rattle.

toji’s got a fat delicious hook that always curves inside of you as he’s going in. it’s so good - so good to where you’re feeling butterflies brew up inside of your stomach . . unless that was just his bulge.

“toji, ohmygodohmygoddd,” you babble out, gasping with slick parted lips at the gaping barrage he makes with his dick. he’s only halfway in and yet you feel so full. you almost forgot what it was like for him to fuck you, and oh did you miss it. “you’re not—ngh, not gonna fit.”

“silly girl,” he huffs, already starting to feel himself break a sweat. his forehead’s starting to get clammy the more he’s easing his way in. the raven haired man towers over your jittery body before you feel his hungry gaze rove down your back. “we’ll make it work, princess. just like we always do, i trained this pussy well.”

squiiiissssh!

right after he speaks, you’re already gushing from his cock being so deep inside. his tip gets covered with your slick and he hums in amusement.

“even she agrees with me,” he hoarsely utters, preparing his sharp keen hips. you’re just so wet, you nibble down on your tongue as he’s losing himself further inside. it feels like forever until toji’s finally fully in. you hear a ringing ‘pop’ and that’s when you knew he was fitted nice and snug. “there we go, told ya. i always make it fit just for you—oh fuuucckk.”

your scent’s filling up the room now and it’s just driving him crazy. it gives him a headache, the kind of headache where he actually likes the pounding.

he can’t get enough of you, whether it’s your perfume, your body, or just you in general. all he knew was that he missed you and he was gonna show you how, with his deep pivotal thrusts.

“hngh, toji fuck,” you whimper out, and it doesn’t take long before he’s starting up a fast pitiless pace. the bed immediately dips from the harsh amounts of weight and pressure. toji’s got both hands glued to your hips.

his fat tip rudely thrashed at your sweet pulsing cunt time and time again. he’s simply relentless.

as he’s moving with such speed, you feel his full swollen base tap against your ass over and over.

you almost drooled, imagining how much he’d cum inside of you this time. his fingerstips dug so far into your skin that he left brief marks - it wasn’t too bad, but he’d definitely look back at it later just to tease you. “mmph, fuck toji. right there, that spot, baby.”

“i love you sweetheart but you talk too much,” he grouses, and you’re caught off guard once he pauses mid thrust just lean up close against you.

with your back still turned the opposite way, he pulls down your panties all the way, stuffing them in your empty mouth. “there, keep those pretty things in. only sounds i wanna hear is from y’er pussy, she’s the star tonight.”

toji’s cock was just merciless.

if you thought he was mean in bed, his hips were even meaner. ruthless, you’re being fucked against the springy mattress that’s creaking and the same babbles come out of your lips every time.

those same pathetic cries of his name. . it was like music to his ears. you couldn’t see yourself but you just knew you looked a mess.

you were drooling all against the satin pillow case as your eyes were just bulging out of their sockets. toji always knew how to stretch you good and stretch you right.

he was thick, driving his hips into you at such barbarous force that you were almost sure he was gonna break you. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed you. being away from you for so long was practically torture, and yes it was entirely his fault for getting locked up in the first place but still.

“ugh, mmph!” you whine, your noises becoming muffled from the bawled up panties that were stuffed inside of your puffed cheeks.

he was unapologetically drilling into your cunt as if he was a construction worker. if it wasn’t thanks to toji’s grip with hands, you’d probably fall of the bed and land flat on your ass.

“squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—shit,” he growls, his dark brows curling up together in frustration.

your walls were so clingy, they always were. his dick knew just the right spots to make you scream. after a few sloppy hits, his sweltering hot crown starts to break through your walls, pounding in and out until you’re just dumb full of cock.

you were stupid, entirely dumbfounded—and not a single thought crossed your mind as he’s hitting against that same sweet spot. you feel your toes curl up all the way until they feel numb and you let off a inaudible squeal. “pussy’s such a crybaby, look at how much y’er sobbin’ on me, princess.” he points out, purposely slowing his thrusts down just to ogle at the glimmering cobwebs of your own slick streaming down his cock.

it’s so pretty, you’re drenching his length each second and he feels himself twitch - you feel him twitch inside of you.

as he’s still vigorously delving his fat cock in and out of you, you feel toji’s grip around your neck softly tighten. silvery fingers stroke against your tender skin and you moan, a cock drunk smile spreading across your lips whilst your mouth’s full of your own damn panties.

you even taste yourself and it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. toji then suddenly raises your ass up just a bit more.

“hey,” he grumbles, swatting a hand against your ass. you’re snapped out of your own lewd thoughts once the sting meets against your rear.

dark sly eyes flicker toward your body that’s twitching underneath him and he hums. “fuck back against me. don’t be a lazy girl,” and your cunt’s so close, you’re on the very verge and almost every nerve that’s buried between your thighs prepares itself for its elated finish. “fuck. me. back.” he repeats, his words an almost growl.

you whimper, quickening your hips again and he stares at your ass that’s gluing against his sharp pelvis, smack smack smacking away. the recoil was always his favorite part, he groans at how good you stick against him, luxuriating in your sweet filth.

you’re clinging onto the creamy white sheets for dear life while you’re also just casually getting the life fucked out of you.

toji always fucked like he hated you—of course, he didn’t. he loved you, he even put a pretty rock on your finger and couldn’t wait to take your last name. or vice versa.

alas, whenever the conversation went towards the bedroom, that was an entirely different story.

he was mean, sharp angered hips would plowed into you like he hated your guts. his tip’s a crimson red, kissing up against your sweetest spot that’s buried so far deep inside of you that it leaves a mark. your stomach continues to seize as he’s driving himself in and out of you, leaving a little bulge that prods near the lower part of your tummy.

“aw,” he glances at you trying to feel near the exact spot with your hand.

toji grunts lowly at the sharp twinge near his thigh, he’s almost out of fuel but he hasn’t had enough of you.

not yet.

“feel me there, yeah? ‘m really that deep, princess,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and you can hear just how out of breath he is. every few words were broken up and he’s panting right with you, pinching the bridge of his nose to suppress his own moans. “our future baby’s gonna be riiiight in here someday, princess. gonna make you the prettiest fuckin’ mommy.”

“mmph—mmph!”

“oh, right,” he cackles darkly, leaning in to pull your panties out of your mouth. once he does, you’re matching the drilling speed of his pants.

toji keeps jackhammering into your sopping wet cunt and you’re just hysterical. a raw squeal dies out from the back of your throat before you abruptly end up cumming.

it’s quick, you cream all down his cock and your eyelids fatally flap shut. “the fuck,” he pauses, and you feel yourself throbbing all around him. you’re shook, your eyebrows twist together in pleasure and you’re just trying to gasp for any breaths you could get. you pout once he stops his hips all of a sudden, still shoved numerous inches inside before he releases his hand from your throat. “i know you didn’t just cum on me baby.”

you gulp, still heavily sensitive. your body’s practically on fire and you hated that he suddenly stopped.

toji didn’t like whenever you came—without asking first at least. “ ‘m sorry,” you moan, hearing his heavy pants directly from behind you. there was a sweet bratty lie underneath your two words and he knew that. toji fushiguro was no idiot. “sorry toji, didn’t mean—”

“oh, babygirl i’m sorry too,” and you’re confused for a moment before he makes your face squish even further against the pillows. a hand of his lightly pushes your head back into the mattress. you whine once you feel him starting up again.

your pussy resumes to freely constrict around his length before he’s starting up his insane pace again. toji feels you trying to crawl away again, weakly trying to paw your hands at the edge of the bed but he’s pulling you right back.

your ass slams against him and you moan, feeling him thrash against your beloved g-spot yet again.

“nah, we aren’t running today. get back here ‘n take this,” and he talks over your sweet babbles and mewls, speaking in a faux tone to match yours. “you’re a big girl aren’t ya, yeahhh? so whatcha runnin’ for?”

as toji reels you back to his raunchy rude hips, they snap into you at full force and you’re just choking on your own mewling whimpers by this point.

hours past, many many hours of you being fucked in any and every position.

toji’s got you screaming at the top of your lungs from each delirious orgasm that he coaxed out of you. he tells you to give him one more, just one more—but that ‘one more’ ends up being at least six more.

you’ve never felt more dumb out of your mind, and every few seconds he’d run his nose down your back just to get another whiff of your sweet enticing scent. by now, he’s lost count of how many times he smelled you. whatever perfume you were wearing, it was now his favorite.

he had you creaming down his cock again and again, your legs shook in defeat and you moan once he prepares to start up again.

but that’s when you lie him back.

“ugh,” he falls back, and his arms rest over the headboard of the bed. there you’re met with the eyes of a very feral man. toji’s jumpsuit was half on, barely even on at this rate. you take a chance to look at him and he’s just so swole. your eyes roam down his beefy body. he’s definitely got more toned since the last time you saw him. his body, it’s as if he was a sculpture. his and were similar to a greek god, droplets of sweat race down near his sharp v-line and you were mentally drooling. you peer down at a few of his tats that ink into his skin, a few veins running down his forearms. “now, that’s pretty damn rude, baby. pushin’ me over like that. oughta—”

“shut up, toji,” you murmur, still trying to get over your most recent orgasm. your ears rang, so loud that it’s putting bells to shame. with hooded eyes and that same sleazy grin, he holds onto your waist as you make your way on his lap.

toji snickers, a palm of his hand squeezing your ass tight. “oh, so y’er gonna ride me. ‘s that what this is, princess?” and you could hear the smug in his tone.

he didn’t think you had the guts. .

the dimples that poke against either side of his lips confirmed his haughty expression. “cute, but fine. go ahead then, girl,” and he spanks your ass, burying his face into your neck, licking against your sweet skin. “ride me.”

you barely even last a few minutes—toji’s just too fucking big.

you’re babbling yet again at how he’s not gonna fit and he just wryly grins at you. seeing you struggle to take him for the umpteenth time continues to feed his annoying ego.

but like the gentleman he was, toji helps you.

big firm hands attach to your waist and he helps you align yourself once more. your cunt’s profusely drooling, aching for more despite the overstimulation that’s continuing to dumb you down.

“such a baby. gotta help ya with everything,” he whispers, hiding his face inside the crook of your neck.

your scent was still so loud, the smell of you alone made him throb and you felt it from the inside of your gripping pussy.

your clingy walls clamp and squeeze around him tightly before you start up your frantic hips again. twisting your brows together in lewd rapture, you whine—tossing your arms over his broad shoulders. after a few seconds, then do you start to move your hips. “fuck, that’s it baby. ride me good, yeah. move those hips, shiiit.”

he groans, feeling his pumping cock drag its way through every part of your slick walls. he never misses a spot, and he sticks his tongue out, dragging it down your collarbone.

“mhm, fuck me. ride it like you want it, princess.” he spanks your ass, hearing the bed wail and creak out frail groans of its own. your hips threw itself in a circle as you’re on his lap, taking in every inch of his thick heavy cock. toji closes his eyes, inhaling your scent for the nth time, and it’s almost as if the second you started riding him, your smell got even stronger.

your slick glosses down his cock entirely, and it’s so pretty. every chance you get, you stare down between your legs just to see the sloshing mess that’s slapping right directly right underneath you. strands of glistening juices blissfully mix with his and just it’s filthy.

it even tangles into a mere cobweb the quicker you bounce up and down his dick. “f- fuck, fuck,” you stammer, and you’re so full—full of nothing but long girthy inches.

again, his maddened plump tip was just rude.

it’s smacking against your spongy sensitive spot constantly, dragging out those cute whimpers from your throat. your fingertips claw down his back whilst your hips becoming incredibly sloppy. “toji, ‘m gonna cum again. fuck, gonna cum again. hngh, please lemme c-cum.”

“let me think about it,” he sighs, and your face cutely drops at his teasing. toji nips small minuscule bites near your neck as his cock stills inside of you. “hmmmmm,” and he even hums over your pleading whines. burly arms wrap around your waist before he squeezes near your ass. he waits for a good seven seconds before darkly chuckling, lapping his tongue directly underneath your chin. “fine. go ahe—fuck.”

toji groans because right as he speaks, he ends up cumming right with you. his teeth bites into your skin as he’s dumping in a fat load inside, creamy globs filling you up almost right away.

his body violently erupts, feeling a ripple of vibrations jolt through his body and you feel the exact same.

you felt a spark surge through your veins and your brain just turned into complete mush. as your dead hips feebly writhe against him your jaw is just hanging open. “hngh, ‘s full,” you wheeze, feeling him continue to overflow your pussy with such thick amounts.

it’s a lot, so much to where it’s drooling all down your thighs, matching color against the ivory colored sheets.

it was so warm - hot even.

you hear the sloshing spurts that it makes and you’re panting just as much as he was.

toji saved so much for you.

his jaw tightens as he leans back, one hand still glued to the right cheek of your ass. “god, i fuckin’ missed you,” he groans, feeling a tingly sensation at the way you swallow every drop with your drooling cunt. your hips waver over him, and once toji brings his face up to stare at you again, he cups your face. “you alright, princess?”

“y- yeah i—” but before you could even finish your sentence, he pulls you in a deep passionate kiss.

it’s sloppy more than anything, and you feel his hands creep down toward your tits, squeezing against your plump swollen mounds. you whine in his mouth as both tangled tongues move in tavern. shaggy bangs brush against your forehead as you wrap your arms around him. as he’s hungrily shoving his tongue down your throat, that’s when he feels your hips slowly starting to grind again.

after a few long seconds, toji pulls away, watching the lustrous trial of saliva leave from both lips. he’s still so sensitive and so were you.

“baby,” he says, raspy and out of breath. he leans in, giving you one more sniff before groaning in your neck. the insides of your thighs were sticky, glued to the very crevices with his hot gluey cum and you definitely milked him. “i need more—fuck, i need more.” and you gasp once you’re suddenly flipped over on your back.

leafy green eyes bore into your ass and you moan once toji drags a big thumb down your cunt that’s slobbering with milky globs of his seed.

“shit, look at this mess,” and he slides his tongue across his lip - specifically, across the scar that runs down his sly crooked lips. “hah, y’er tummy’s not full enough yet, princess,” and you can almost hear the pout in his voice as he’s stood behind you.

toji vertically smears his thumb against your cunt that’s weeping with such thick velvety amounts of cum. he inches his face toward your rear before bringing a kiss towards your wet entrance.

“before i give you more though, ‘m gonna have ‘ta clean this mess,” and you let off a surprised gasp once he dips his tongue back into your pussy again, the cold pierced ball that lies on his tongue making you whimper. “so be a good girl ‘n bend over again for me,” and he starts to nibble against your clit, feeling you ardently pulse against his tongue.

“heh, but i gotta say, this food right here’s so much fuckin’ better than the shit they serve us in prison, princess,” and toji spits right on your folds one last time, giving it a playful smack. “so much better. . ”

[kikikillerr-blog]

hate when you're reminded of something stressful right before bed and it's stuck on ur mind. like i can't do anything about that right now please let me sleep

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Disney princess Danny

It’s known that animals can sense death. Instances where pets gravitate to someone on their death bed and dogs barking at ghosts. Danny already knew this from before he half died, so he was expecting animals to rat him out with their sixth sense or become aggressive or cower from him. Instead, they all behaved the complete opposite than he anticipated.

Stray cats come running to rub against his legs, dogs nearly pull arms out of their owners sockets to get close to him, birds bring him trinkets, raccoons lead him to trash cans full of food, and even squirrels and rats get close to just sit on his shoulders. It’s… weird, but not unwelcome. He always loved animals.

Danny had come to semi-trust the animals that come to him. They know where the good food is and drinking water, they know when to steer away from a certain area right before something happens, and they always know when a person is bad or okay. So when an animal leads him somewhere, he follows. Sometimes they need help and he’s the one they go to. He’s helped plenty of raccoons out of garbage bins and cats out of gutters to have a good relationship with the animals of the streets.

What he isn’t expecting is to be led to Robin again and again.

The first time it was a cat. A mangy old Tom cat that rubbed against his torn up jeans and looked back with - Danny swears- a raised eyebrow. Danny follows and soon enough he finds himself standing a few paces away from Robin who is kneeling down to give clean water to the momma cat and her three kittens.

Robin freezes and so does Danny. They stare at each other.

“Um, hi?”

Robin straightens immediately, leaving the water on the ground where the cats can drink. Tom cat swaggers over to guard them.

“Civilian. Is there something I can assist you with?”

The dude is probably a year or two younger than Danny himself and he has to suppress a smile at the formal tone.

“Oh, uh, no? The cat just led me here.”

He can see Robin glance at the Tom cat who was now licking himself.

“Is that so?”

“Yea. Sorry to interrupt. Animals just like me for some reason.”

The three kittens one by one all totter over to him on unsteady legs after they had their fill. The orange one starts trying to climb his pant leg with its short and sharp claws digging into the jean material.

“They really like me.”

He carefully sits down crossed legged so the others could also climb all over him. Robin watches for a moment silently and when he sees Danny react well to the little pricks from tiny claws, he seems it safe enough to return to patrol.

The second time it’s a couple of rats that lure him away to find Robin fighting off more thugs than he probably should by himself. So taking the rats’ movements as encouragement, he takes the closest thing, a piece of plywood, and hit the nearest guy over the head with it. The guy crumbles like a wet sock and Danny is moving on to the next thug.

They sweep the floor with these guys with only a few splinters and a twisted ankle.

“It was dangerous to intervene,” Robin tells him. “I had it handled.”

“Yea, I know.”

The vigilante didn’t seem to be expecting that response from his stunned silence. He straightens as much as he can with bruised ribs.

“Well, I’m glad you know your mistake. Don’t let it happen again.”

Danny neither agrees nor disagrees, just shrugs and allow the rats to climb up his leg to his shoulder. Robin looks at them curiously. Danny gives a salute before leaving. Robin gives him a nod.

The third time it happened the roles are reversed.

Some people from the local gang are bullying the lonely, homeless teen to run drugs for them. They don’t seem to understand the word ‘no’. It gets to the point where Danny finds himself with his back against the wall and all his exits blocked with a guy shoving him again and again.

“Stop it!”

“I’ll stop if you agree.”

“I’m not doing it!”

Frank the raccoon and his buddy Bobby launch themselves at the guy’s ankles. The guy shrieks and pulls a gun.

“No!”

Before Danny can dive for it, a projectile comes out of nowhere to knock it out of his hands. He can’t even process what happened before the three are running away, two raccoons chattering at their heels before coming back to crowd him in worry.

Danny looks up to see Robin with a sword out threateningly, staring at where the three fled. He sheaths the sword after a few seconds.

“Are you okay?”

Danny realizes he’s breathing a little heavy and slows down a bit as he leans over to pet the top of the two heads.

“I’m- yea, I’m okay. Thanks for the save. Those guys were jerks.”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

Robin is staring at the raccoons and it takes Danny a long moment to piece things together.

“Did- did they lead you to me?”

Robin doesn’t answer right away.

“You have loyal friends.”

Danny smiles at the weird compliment. Looking down at the two heroes of the evening Danny is also inclined to agree.

The fourth time is funny in a way Danny doesn’t know how to describe.

It was the pigeons. They were at fault of course for how Robin’s secret identity was outed. By pigeons.

The grey birds swarmed Danny and settled in a cloud of feathers. One holding something in its beak before plopping it down in his lap like a golden retriever. It flaps off as Danny picks up the obvious wallet clip holding quite a bit of cash and a student ID. The card says Damian Wayne from Gotham Academy. Just then Robin comes skidding around the corner, clearly out of breath and freezes.

Danny looks down at the clip in his hand and back up at the vigilante. He looks at the crazy amount of birds around him and again at the vigilante.

Said vigilante straightens and approaches like he called Danny there.

“If I could have that so I could return it to its proper owner.”

He holds out a hand with false arrogance, but Danny can see the nervousness in his stance. Danny looks down one last time before putting the clip in the outstretched hand without a word.

Robin nods once, pockets the ID and money, and immediately leaves.

The fifth time just cements what Danny had already figured out.

He was at the park. Not Ivy’s park of course, the one where people actually like to go. He was helping the squirrels find and hide acorns when he’s nearly knocked over by a massive black dog.

“Titus!”

The end of the Great Dane’s leash is a familiar face. Damian Wayne’s eyes widen in recognition as he finally sees who Titus was so excited to get to.

“Uh-“

Danny has to close his mouth quickly or else the massive tongue on his face would have turned into a French kiss.

“Titus! Heel!”

Danny laughs at the embarrassed blush on the other’s face, obviously not used to his companion going off the rails like this.

“It’s alright. We both know how animals like me.”

Damian narrows his eyes to analyze the teen. Danny wasn’t about to pretend and Damian looked like he was debating whether to follow his lead or not. There was literally no one within hearing distance.

“Have you told anyone?”

Danny thought about redirecting, but thought better of it. He actually liked Robin and what he did.

“Nope. I haven’t and I won’t. I swear.”

Damian tilts his head and then looks down at Titus. He seems to come to a decision before looking back at Danny.

“You’re homeless, are you not?”

Didn’t think they were being that direct but sure.

“Yea?”

“I will pay you in food and shelter to take care of my animals.”

Danny blinks. Then actually considers the offer.

“What kind of animals? How many we talking?”

Damian grins.

The family finds out pretty quickly when a teen they’ve never seen before walks into the Batcave with two pails of food for the bats, Titus at his heels and Alfred the cat perched contently on his shoulders.

Duke stares and Bruce short circuits.

“Um, who are you?”

“Hi! I’m Danny. Damian employed me to take care of the animals.”

“O…kay?”

“And where is Damian?” Bruce sounds like it physically hurts to ask and Danny does not envy Damian’s position right now.

“Upstairs. I think he said he was going to his art studio.”

Bruce marches past the boy to the stairs before stopping abruptly and turning to Danny and Duke.

“Don’t touch anything. Watch him.”

Duke and Danny blink at each other for a moment as Bruce disappears up the stairs.

“I’m Duke by the way.”

Danny grins.

[bi-writes]

how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.

simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.

"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."

he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.

"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."

he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.

"'ello?"

"simon!"

he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.

"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"

"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"

"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"

"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"

"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"

"the car, it's--"

"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"

"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."

simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.

"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."

"but, simon, the walk is--"

"i'll see ya in twenty."

"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.

"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"

the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.

"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"

you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.

you're here. you're real. you're alive.

you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.

he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.

he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.

some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.

you are one of a kind.

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

The Feast!

Inspired by this post

Danny, now an adult, works as an engineer and tech developer for Wayne Enterprises. One day, he has to bring his daughter, Ellie, into work with him. Ellie’s school had been temporarily shut down after a rouge attack, and the campus isn’t yet safe for the students to return to.

Danny had been ready to call into work to request the time off he’d need to watch his daughter until the school could be re-opened. However, his bosses seemed to be aware of the situation, and the predicament faced by many of the parents who worked for them. And a company wide email was sent out advertising Bring Your Kid To Work Day! Wayne Enterprises was offering all employees with children too young to be left home alone unsupervised the opportunity to bring their children in to work with them for the week, as that was the timeframe thus far given for when the school would be safely up and running again.

Danny is relieved that he wouldn’t need to take any unpaid time off. Nor try to find a last minute babysitter who’d A: Danny could trust to watch his little star, and B: be willing and able to watch her.

When he tells her about coming to work with him, Ellie is ecstatic! She gets to see where her dad works! And she gets to meet his work-friends! She’s so excited! She wants to make a good impression, so when Danny has gone off to begin cooking dinner, Ellie begins to make plans.

The next day, Ellie has woken up early and already gotten herself ready. She decided to wear a large poofy jacket and a pink too too over the top of her jeans. She has her backpack, filled with things to entertain her.

Once they’ve arrived and Danny has introduced Ellie to a few of his co-workers and some of their own children on the way to his desk. Along the way, Danny and Ellie pass by several offices and a we meeting rooms. It’s in one of these meeting rooms that Ellie spots her first target.

She quickly slips into the room before Danny can notice she’s run off and approaches the young man, teenager?, hunched over some papers reading intently. He’s got bags under his eyes that rivalled Danny’s back when he was still actively protecting Amity. He looks like he’s living off of nothing but caffeine and spite alone, and hasn’t had a proper nights sleep in months.

None of the other various businessmen and women in the room have noticed her presence yet, as she silently wanders up to the sleepy boy-man. She reaches into her pocket and just as she’s about to pull out her little gift, Danny has burst into the room frantically having noticed his child has slipped away. Again.

All eyes are on Danny as he apologises profusely for the intrusion, swooping in to take Ellie’s hand. He’s still apologising, now to the sleepy boy-man who is looking at Ellie in awe, like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed her enter the room.

While her dad was still rambling Ellie quickly pulls an orange from her pocket and hands it to the boy-man. He takes it with a curious and perplexed look on his face.

“Ellie,” Danny sighs, “not again.”

Ellie grins and reaches into her jackets to pull out another orange. Danny swipes it before she can hand it to the businessman sitting next to the boy-man. She pulls out another one, and as Danny is grabbing it she slips from his grip and ducks under the table. Ellie runs to the centre of the room and unzips her backpack. She tips it upside down, and what looks to be 20 oranges spill out and roll across the floor.

With a feral grin, Ellie picks up an orange and throws her hands into the air in triumph, and shouts. “LET US FEAST!”

[pseudowho]

"So, you go against the hairs...that's right...and then with the hairs..."

"...is-- is this right?"

"Mmm. Now, clean your blade..."

You pretended to tidy the bedroom, sneaking glances up to Kento, and Yuuji, stood shirtless at the bathroom sink. Both had thickly lathered faces, and sharp razors, examining their faces in the mirror with absolute precision.

Sshhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Peach fuzz.

"...and so anyway, I said to Fushiguro, shadows are great but sometimes you gotta just hit a guy..."

Kento listened, quiet, his mind always calculating several threads while mentoring Yuuji; yet, he was distracted. The old school corridor bathed in orange evening light, setting Yuuji's hair aflame, to coral in rocks. With Yuuji's nattering profile illuminated, the edges of his cheeks blurred from their usual sharp relief.

Fuzzy.

"...like, Kugisaki gets it, but she's like, just a bit feral and..."

Kento wondered if Yuuji had noticed. Kento recalled he only noticed, when his grandfather brushed his jaw with one clawed-over old hand, softly mocking Kento's furry scowl in lilting Danish. Kento's eyes lowered to the floor, counting his own steps and thinking in one, two, three and thoughtful on four, five, six.

"...Gojo's great but it's hard to learn from a guy who's that far out of my league, y'know? So--"

"Itadori-kun."

Kento had stopped, straightening his glasses, looking out onto suburban skyline. Yuuji stopped with him, inquisitive. A train rattled through, distant, splitting through the sunset. Kento looked back to Yuuji.

"It's important to look tidy, at work. Professional."

Yuuji raised his eyebrows, elbows rounded as he held his arms out, looking down at himself. He shot Kento a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head.

Fuzzy peach.

"...ah-- yeah...guess I've always been a bit scruffy, huh? My grandad used to tell me I'd never get a job with hair like this."

Kento hummed. He stepped forwards, and raised one long-fingered, broad hand to gently grasp Yuuji's jaw, tilting it back and forth in the amber glow. Yuuji's bottom lip drew up, his eyes wide in surprise.

"...Nanamin?"

"Has anyone taught you how to shave, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blushed, his eyes flicking away from Kento in a mortified little scowl, his jaw still clasped. Kento released him, clearing his throat and checking his watch.

"I think we're finished up, here. Do you have any evening plans, Itadori-kun?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"If you need to go over an area again, get more shaving foam-- not that much-- and repeat the steps..."

"...this is...tricky..."

"With regular practice, you can improve any skill, Itadori-kun. Unless you'd like a beard, which still needs management, you'll be shaving every few days, or more."

"...you always...look so tidy..." swshswshswsh.

"It takes effort." Shhhick. Swsh.

"Yeah right. I bet you wake up like that. Tie and all."

A deep, rumbling laugh. Yuuji's foamy, surprised face, looking so boyish.

You slid past the bathroom. You pulled your phone out, surreptitiously clicking a photo. Kento and Yuuji, leaning over the sink while Kento steadfastly instructed him, became your new phone background, and stayed as such for a full year.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Took a lot of portions to send him to bed with a full tummy."

Kento chuckled at you, his hair mussed and soft. Legs crossed in bed, with a book on his lap, he read to the sound of soft snores in the guest bedroom next door. The lamplight, low and warm, illuminated Kento's face in the gloom.

Stubbly.

You reached a hand out, brushing across his jaw, feeling its sandpaper rasp across your fingers.

"I think you were so busy teaching Yuuji," you whispered, scratching Kento's chin as he crumpled his lower lip up, "that you missed some patches yourself. C'mere."

You stood, walking to the bathroom and sitting on the counter, grabbing a razor and shaving foam. Kento's eyes twinkled at you, feigning annoyance. He walked to you at the sink, looking straight into the bones of you. He grasped your thighs, pushing them apart before settling between them, chuckling again as you lathered his face.

Shhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

You felt a growing pressure between your legs as you focused on shaving Kento's jaw. Kento fidgeted, pyjamas tight and tenting. You bit your lip, smirking.

"...Mr.Nanami. I am trying to concentrate."

"Mmm, so am I, but it's...hard."

"Yes. I can feel that."

Another deep rumble of a laugh. Kento grasped your thighs tighter, pressing forwards into you. You gasped, taking the razor from his face as Kento nuzzled shaving foam into your giggling neck.

"Don't stop." He whispered, a crooked smile on his lathered face. "Concentrate, please, Mrs.Nanami."

[mywritersmind]

HIDE YOUR NAME NOT YOUR TEAM - LN4

summary : In which a pretty red head catches Lando’s eye one night in mexico, a rude remark and laughable flirting stays on both of their minds. The last thing Lando expects is to see her again in the paddock, while he’s determined to figure her out, she’s determined to hide her name and why she constantly is spotted in orange.

listen up : panic attack, sexual comments, comedy!! lando norris x bosses!daughter.

word count : 5404

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t usually go to these things. But Alexandra convinced me when she said I could borrow her dyson.

“I take it back.” I say as I get my drink, we’re sat at the bar, Charles already gone to find some drivers, “Let’s go back to the hotel! Girls night!” I beg her but she just shakes her head.

“You look too hot for that.” I sigh, I do look hot tonight. I’m in a black mini dress, sheer tights, and knee high boots that are the same shade of burgundy red as my hair.

Just as she says that, Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, comes up to us, “Y/n! You never come out with us!” She hugs me and I smile. I never do but I do like hanging with my girls.

“I had to drag her here!” Alex sips her drink as Rebecca laughs. We’re in Mexico for the grand prix, something I also rarely find myself at.

“Don’t make that face! You deserve a day off.” I sigh, knowing they’re right.

“Alright.” I down the rest of my drink, coughing and turning to the bartender, “Three shots please! Surprise us!”

The girls squeal and as soon as I sit back down, I know it’s gonna be a good night.

I’m multiple drinks in, dancing with my friends, when Carlos and Charles sweep my friends away like it’s nothing.

I scoff, going to walk off the dance floor before a man stops me, “Wanna dance?” I almost laugh when I see who it is. I can tell he sees me thinking about it, “I promise I don’t bite.”

⋆༺

LANDO NORRIS

I noticed her when she was dancing with some guy who was out of his mind wasted. I saw her hair first, a dark cherry red with messy waves.

I don’t know if she’s here with friends but I do know that I want to know more.

She’s staring at me like i’ve just asked her to do a backflip, “Uh… no.” She shakes her head and walks straight past me.

What the fuck?

I haven’t had a girl reject me in a long time, but it’s not unheard of. Still, something about her is telling me to not give up.

“Wait! I’ll buy you a drink!” I hurry after her, she’s flipping her hair over her shoulder and eyeing me, “Please?”

“Please?” She laughs, “You can’t find any other girl besides me?” She hops up onto a bar stool and I lean against the counter, staying close.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m Lando.”

“Yeah, I know.” This surprises me.

“Oh! Well then you know I'm not a creep, so you’ll let me buy you a drink?” She crosses her arms, she seems to be assessing me.

“Fine.” I get her a dirty martini and water for myself. “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be down to buy a pretty girl a drink.” I smile as she sips her drink, “I never caught your name-”

“Mhm…” She looks around the club, obviously not interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, Red.” She doesn’t even flinch at the nickname, “Why are you in Mexico?”

She hums, “Family.” she lets out a long breath.

I frown at her lack of interest, “That’s fun. I’m racing here this weekend.” She doesn’t respond, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise I'm not like whatever shit magazine you read.”

She looks at me after that and I immediately know I fucked up. Except instead of throwing her drink on me, she just laughs, “God, you’re an asshole.” And with that, she walks away.

⋆༺

YOU

Lando Norris hitting on me was not something I expected from that night.

But it immediately became worse once I remembered why I was in Mexico.

“Sweetheart!” My dad hugs me tight. Zak Brown is a lot of things but a shit dad isn’t one of them. He’s in all orange, contrasting my white dress. I smile as he pulls back, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

I have gone to four grand prix’s in my life. It seems a bit odd for someone who’s father is there almost every weekend, but we had a deal. I was a sort of trouble child, more in my teens when I wanted more freedom. I took some years off of school but I realized what I was wasting and got right back into college.

My dad said I couldn’t come to a grand prix until I finished school. I was annoyed at first, who wouldn’t want to spend their weekends partying with rich people and flying on private jets? But I sort of fell in love with my studies in fashion and had no time anyway.

But I recently graduated and am back in my papaya fathers reach.

“How are you doing? Excited to be back?” I nod as I walk up the paddock with him.

“Very! I’ve missed everything, especially my friends.” He smiles and I’m happy I can make him do that in public.

“I’m so proud. Oh!” I see my nightmare in neon and freeze, “Come meet one of our drivers, he’s a bit like you, I think.” My dad looks back at my frozen position and frowns.

“I forgot I have to grab food with Lily! New friend duties, right! Remember how happy you are that i’m making friends!? Bye!” I turn around and run.

I end up meeting up with Lily because as soon as I heard myself say it, I suddenly really wanted to see her. Lily isn’t new to the paddock, but I’ve only met her a couple times. We follow each other on instagram and have DM’d multiple times.

After our taco and gossip session, practice started and I know I should be watching, but I want to explore more. So instead, I walk around the Paddock alone.

I seriously missed this environment. One of my favorite memories from when I was a kid was my dad walking me around the paddock. I love the hustle and bustle of the paparazzi, fans, and drivers.

I also love the quiet in the paddock while the cars are on track. I make it back inside, finally finding a bathroom and after fixing my hair and makeup, I wander more halls.

I don’t want to admit I'm lost, but I definitely am. I’m about to call Lily and Rebecca but realize I am a strong independent woman! That and I'm a tad embarrassed.

I turn yet another corner and see the worst person for this situation. I realize he hasn’t seen me yet but when I go to turn he eyes me, “Red?” He looks genuinely shocked and I'm even more shocked that he remembers me!

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’s in his race suit, sweaty, and way too good looking with it unzipped. He runs his hand through his curls, has he always been this attractive?

Sorry! Dickhead. I don’t like this man. He’s an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Is all he can say.

“Hey!” I smile, “Thanks for buying me that drink the other night…” When I left him at the bar, I did not think about the whole MY FATHER IS HIS BOSS thing.

“What are you doing here?” I hide my paddock pass behind my back, “Seriously. You’re not some stalker are you?”

I roll my eyes, “No but I am lost.” I can’t ask him to point me to the Mclaren garage because then he’ll ask why so I go for the next best thing, “I’m looking for the ferrari garage!” I need to text Alex right now.

“I’m still confused- you said you were in town for family.” Fuck my life.

“Yeah! Well… Alex is like family to me! And she invited me. Alex as in-“

“Charles’ girlfriend. Yeah I know.” He moves his water bottle from one hand to the other, stepping closer. “But, why would I help you if you think I'm an asshole?”

Okay. Good point.

“Because you think I'm pretty?” I smile and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “And because you were being pretty cocky!”

He nods, “Fair enough. Come with me.” I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Hey, why were you in here anyways?” He shrugs and keeps walking for a bit before answering.

“Needed a breather.”

I nod, walking with him in silence, he opens the door for me and the sun hits up straight on. “So… how's the whole driving thing going?”

He glances at me, “It's alright. Quali tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Although I kinda hope you don’t get first.” He raises a brow. “I’m a big Piastri fan.”

He looks genuinely hurt, “I didn’t even think you watched.”

I frown, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I'm here.”

“Yeah but you… nevermind.”

I stop, turning to him, “You have to tell me now!”

He grins, looking away and continuing to walk, “You just didn’t have a reaction when I hit on you.” I scoff, “I know, I know! Dickish.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Honestly… fair enough. If I looked like you with the whole famous rich thing. I’d be pulling left and right.”

He eyes me, “So you think i’m attractive.” My face drops and I look ahead, “Hey it’s okay we already know I think you’re hot!” God if my dad ever heard this…

“Just shut up.” He does.

Until he doesn’t, “You really a big Oscar fan?”

I’m happy that I got under his skin with that one, “What if I said I liked Verstappen more?”

“I’d leave your lost ass right here.” Lando says it so serious that all I can do is laugh. He looks proud after I look at him again. “Seriously though.”

“Ferrari girl through and through.” He rolls those gorgeous green eyes of his, “McLaren might be second best though. Plus that Colapinto kid…”

He rolls his eyes, “You can’t like Franco more than me.”

“What, you jealous?” He points to turn and when we do, I see the garages in view.

“Gonna give me your name yet? Or am I sticking to Red?”

I pull his same move and avoid the question, “Thanks for showing me back.”

“Is it bad I like it when you’re mean to me?” I groan and walk away, “Bye, Red!”

“Later, Norris.”

⋆༺

“He doesn’t know who you are!?” Lily and Alexandra scream at the same time, we’re sitting in my hotel room when I called an emergency girls meeting. Except Rebecca is with Carlos to celebrate a little after his pole.

I cover my face with my hands, “But why does it matter!?”

“He’s obviously is hot for you.” Alex shrugs as Lily laughs, rolling onto her back.

“Babe, No wonder he’s so interested in you! I mean- besides the fact that you’re hilarious and drop dead gorgeous- he definitely is intrigued.”

I shake my head, “More like plotting to get me back for calling him an asshole.”

“Wait! You called him an asshole!?” Lily laughs even harder, “I love you!”

“Genuine question though… why don’t you go for it?” I stare at Alex as if she has two heads.

“Go for it!? Lando Norris?” She nods, “No way! Besides the fact that my dad is his boss, he’s way too cocky, and he doesn’t even know my name, I still wouldn’t go for him.”

“That’s kinda part of the appeal.” Alex shrugs, “What!? He knows nothing about you but thinks your hot! Seems like enough to me.”

We end up crying laughing, the conversation straying from Lando and to all the on track drama.

⋆༺

I’ve been avoiding the McLaren garage like the plague. I was there this morning but stayed on Oscar’s side. After meeting him, falling in love with him (platonically of course), and seeing that Lando was completely locked into Qualifying, I took my first breath of calmness.

The boys went out and I popped over to talk to Pato. Quali was over way quicker than I expected, After Oscar’s P17 a weird energy was in the garage and as soon as I saw Lando’s car, I was out of there.

What game am I even playing? Maybe it’s a little hot that he doesn’t know who I am… I don’t know why. Plenty of people have bugged me because of who my dad is, but Lando doesn’t need extra grand prix tickets or me to spot him money.

I find myself in a large room, it’s filled with chairs and a couch facing them. I grin immediately, how the hell is this just open?

I obviously am going to take my chance and pretend to be a talented man! The couch is not as comfortable as I expected and I almost fucking jump off of it when someone walks in.

He's breathing heavily and I recognize something’s wrong immediately. He’s pulling off the velcro of his race suit, unzipping it and pacing. “Lando.”

His head shoots up immediately, just staring at me, “Fuck Red, why are you everywhere?” His breath is labored and shaky.

I stand slowly as he slides down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head back. I’m confused because he seemed fine twenty minutes ago. P3 was not bad especially for where they are right now.

I start to say something but he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” He points to his throat and I realize he can’t breathe.

“I like your hair.” I say quickly, he looks so shocked when he looks up at me, “You look really good with it.” He keeps breathing heavily.

“Huh?”

“Although, you should ditch that fuck ass hat.” He tries to laugh but he’s still struggling. I slowly sit in front of him, “Seriously, who told you to wear that?”

“I- I have to.”

I roll my eyes but my hands are shaking. I’m not a stranger to a panic attack and seeing it happen to someone in front of me is a little scary, “Free will? I mean we all know you have it with the amount of times you whip out your middle finger.”

He laughs again, breathy, but his breathing seems to be getting slower.

“You definitely have free will.” he chokes out, “Saw you- today. Flirting with Lewis.” He got me there.

“Okay! Have you seen him? Who wouldn’t!?”

He shakes his head, “He’s way older.”

“Some people might find that hot.” He side eyes me, “Don’t worry I'm still into guys my own age.”

He’s smiling, nodding. We stay silent for a moment, his head resting against his knees as he catches his breath. He finally slides his legs out in front of him and I scoot next to him.

I tap my neck to ask for permission and he understands immediately, nodding. My hand slips to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot last year.” I explain as I feel his heart underneath my touch. He doesn’t say anything, just looking into my eyes. I swallow, “Your heart is going crazy.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah I don’t think that’s because of the panic attack.”

I give him a look, “Seriously? Even in distress you’re a flirt.”

He licks his lips, “You’re good at calming people.”

“All I did was talk, not that hard.” My hand is still on his neck. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, looking away just as I drop my hand back to my side, “Mhm. Thank you.” His hand goes to mine as if it’s nothing. I’m shaking. He rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes, and squeezing my hand. “I think I owe you another drink, Red.”

⋆༺

It’s not until after more press and the conference is over, when Lando finds me again.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I raise a brow, “Come on, as a thank you.”

“You already said thank you.” I sip my water as he frowns. He’s out of his race suit and into jeans and a McLaren shirt.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and press the back of my hand to his forehead, “Oh no! Seems like you have a case of aiming high.” He mocks me as I cross my arms.

“Red, If you’re that high, I'll take my McLaren rocket ship and meet you.” I laugh at his words.

“A bit late on the whole rocket ship thing.” He sighs.

“We’ll have fun. Please. Why not?” He goes through five emotions in two seconds.

“You’re sinister, evil, and orange.” My eyes stray who who’s also orange and walking quickly up to us, “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud.

Lando turns around quickly, then back to me, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of Zak. I’ll introduce you-”

“No! I’m not! I gotta go!”

“Wha- Red!” I walk away so fast that I don’t see the man rounding the corner.

“Y/n?” Oscar looks at me confused, “Alright?”

“Hi!” I quickly move past him but he follows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is trying to introduce me to Zak Brown.” I say simply as we turn another corner and Oscar frowns.

“Zak Brown as in your dad Zak Brown?” I look at him, nodding. Then he laughs, “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope. Sort of a long story but I'm in too deep now.” I cross my arms and he starts laughing harder.

“I’m completely here for this- Just one question though… how the fuck does he not know who you are? You’ve been in the garage.”

“He’s blind and I'm a mastermind?” I shrug and of course, Lando finds us.

“Red! No!” He groans when he sees Oscar, “Osc, Don’t convert her into a you fan i’m trying so hard to get her to like me!” Oscar laughs harder, covering his mouth and looking at me.

“I don’t need to be converted! I’m already an Oscar fan!” Lando frowns as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry mate, everyone’s an Oscar fan.” He pats Lando on the shoulder before leaving. “See ya…” I can tell he’s about to say my name but he stops himself.

Lando narrows his eyes at me, “He knows your name?” I bite my lip and walk away. “Hey wait! Any thoughts about tonight?”

I glance back at him, “Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

He smirks, catching up to me, “Wanna know my pre race ritual?” I push him away from me, “I’ll give you a hint.” He winks and my stomach does a weird flip.

“You’re never gonna stop, are you?” I place my hands on my hips, looking up at the man.

“Tell me to, and I will.” I stay quiet, his eyes meeting mine and the corner of his lip quirking up. Someone calls his name but his eyes stay on me, smiling. He leans down and taps his knuckles against his hand, “Bye, Red.”

⋆༺

Although Lando has been running around my head, I still have other duties besides being flirted with. I’m at dinner with my dad, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. And I will say, I missed it.

He’s busy and obviously distracted but i’m grateful for any time I get with him. We’re in the Paddock but everybody is gone except for a few engineers and workers.

“Tell me about your weekend! I haven’t seen you much in the garage.” He takes a bite out of his salad, looking down at his texts.

“I’ve been around.” I shrug, drinking my lemonade, “It’s good to be back. But I have been sneaking off with my friends a bit…”

He smiles, “I’m glad. Even if you aren’t cheering us on.” I laugh, “You will be watching from the garage tomorrow, though.”

I nod, “Yes yes, I know.”

We get into a conversation about the issues with my apartment and how he thinks I should move back home. I get the feeling that he’s worried about tomorrow and suddenly wonder if he’s like this every weekend.

My dad gets a call which ends our dinner early, “I gotta grab my bag then I'll head to the hotel.” I kiss him on the cheek and make my way to the garage.

There’s a few people hanging back, some looking at screens and someone laying on the floor, looking at Lando’s back wing.

I grab my purse, rummaging around in it to make sure my phone is there. “You sure you’re not stalking me, Red?” That damn voice makes me jump.

He's sitting on the floor next to his own car, his arms and black shirt dirty. Was he… fixing his car?

I raise a brow, “What are you doing?” He takes the rag next to him and wipes off his hands, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

I cross my arms, “Stealing information for ferrari.” He smirks, shaking his head and walking past me to grab his water.

“Instead of having dinner with me? You need to sort your priorities out.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “Do you work on your own car often?”

“I can’t do much but I do like to see how it looks.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall and glancing at the people working, “You seriously not gonna tell me who you know at McLaren? You obviously have an in.”

He waves to the people who are packing up and walking out. We are now alone.

I hum, knowing there’s no chance I'm about to tell him who my ‘in’ is. He laughs a bit, “Alright, stay mysterious. Wanna sit in it?” I almost think I didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?” He nods, standing and walking over to his car, “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already driven one or something.”

I smile, shaking my head and walking towards him, “No. I used to kart but I’m actually shit at it.” He laughs, beckoning me closer. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me as I stand in front of him, “Okay put your foot here,” he points, “And hold onto this.” He points again and I do as I'm told.

I hate to admit it, but I am quite clumsy. When I slip a bit, his hands go to catch me instantly. Thank you driver reaction practice.

He lifts me down into the seat, his hands regretfully leaving me. I look up at him, “For once, you look tall.” His smile drops, leaning over me.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs and starts pointing at things. I try to listen but his hand is right in front of my face and I’m genuinely surprised how much I don’t know.

“You’re so far down.” I hum, holding my hands out as if I'm driving, “My back already hurts.” He smiles and kneels next to me.

“You look good in here. Seems like a complete hazard though, even if the car isn’t on.” I tilt my head up to look at him. A curl is falling perfectly in his face. “I didn’t wear the hat as much today, what’d you think?”

I smile at the fact that he listened to my bullshit, “How are you, by the way?”

He nods, avoiding my eyes and messing around with something on the car, “Fine.”

“So the whole panic attack thing was just for fun?” He eyes me, biting his lip.

“Thank you again, It was kinda embarrassing but you made me feel better.” I chew the inside of my cheek, smiling softly at his expression. He looks tired, but a big step up from earlier.

I’ve seen Lando a million times. He’s on posters, all over my feed, in my dads photo dumps, billboards, ads… But none of that can compare to the real thing.

He shoots up so fast that I’m about to laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he starts talking to someone. “Lando!” It’s my dad. Alarm bells ring in my ears as my hand goes over my mouth. Okay. He can’t see me, I know that at least. “I thought you’d already left!”

Lando laughs awkwardly, I think he’s standing in front of the car now. “Uh! Wanted to make sure everything’s good with the car. Guess I lost track of time.”

I hear my dad laugh, rummaging around, “Get some sleep, kid.” I think we’re in the clear until I hear sneakers squeaking, “You haven’t seen a girl come in here, have you?”

My heart rate skyrockets as Lando clears his throat, “Nope. But I've been pretty distracted with the car.”

“Alright well… I have someone to introduce you to tomorrow! Get some rest and drink water!” The door shuts and I hear Lando sigh heavily.

I stand up and messily get out of the car, “I thought for sure I was dead!” Lando says, running a hand through his hair and shivering, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries! I don’t want to get you in trouble though so I should go…” He nods, looking a bit disappointed.

“Want me to walk you out?” I can’t help but smile softly at the soft way he says it.

“I know my way, Thanks though.” I grab my bag, thanking god my dad didn’t see it before, “Rest up.” I mock my dad as Lando chuckles.

“With you on my mind, that’ll be difficult.” I pretend like my cheeks aren’t on fire and open the door.

“Dream about me, then.”

⋆༺

The party environment of the Mexican Grand Prix is all I needed today. I’m in a white dress with marigolds embroidered at the bottom, a flower in my hand from one of the people who are painted.

I laugh with Rebecca and Alex as we walk through the paddock, their boyfriends already getting ready for the drivers parade.

I haven’t told them about last night. I mean, what is there to tell? I swipe my lipgloss on, checking my makeup in the reflection of Rebecca’s glasses.

“Is Carlos nervous for today?” I ask her as she smiles at his name.

“I think so, but I’m really hopeful for a good result.” we continue walking, “Hopefully I don’t jinx it.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Alex nudges me, “Someone just arrived.” She winks as we all turn to look at the Paddock entrance behind us.

Lando Norris.

He’s wearing a Quadrant crewneck and a big smile. He signs something for a tiny fan and hurry’s past the photographers.

He almost walks past us, but he does a double take. He looks happy, I’m glad. “Rebecca, Alex.” He doesn’t stop walking as he politely greets them. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes, “Hey, Red.”

I smile softly before he turns and practically runs away, “Yup! He’s in love.”

I swat Rebecca’s arm as she laughs, “Goodbye!”

“No!” Alex laughs, “Come get coffee!”

I shake my head, “I told Pato I would grab breakfast with him, I’ll see you later!”

I smile at the two of them as they wave and we split up, me going to McLaren and them to Ferrari.

⋆༺

Breakfast is good, we watch the drivers go around and laugh at George who is shivering like a leaf. I say goodbye to him as soon as the drivers parade ends.

I need to see my dad before the craziness begins. “Dad!” I smile as he sits on the pit wall.

“Sweetie!” He smiles and waves me over, letting me sit with him.

“Ready for today?” I ask as he looks over data.

He nods, “Definitely!” He crosses his fingers and I smile, looking over the data with him. He knows I have no clue what we’re looking at so he explains it to me.

I lean in to look at the tiny words when my dad gets distracted, “Oh!” I hear him say but i’m trying to decipher this code still, “I have someone for you to meet!” I’ve met a million different people this week so I smile and stick out my hand like usual, “Lando! This is my daughter Y/n.”

I stare at him. His smile drops for a second, then a look of panic washes over him before he takes a breath and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I almost whisper it. He’s looking at me and I feel like I'm about to get swallowed whole.

His face contorts again, he looks like he’s finally cracked me, “Pleasure” My dad looks away and Lando takes that second to narrow his eyes, a smirk still on his face.

I drop his hand as my dad looks at us again, “I think Y/n has been avoiding the garage! I would have introduced you days ago!”

Lando’s jaw ticks, “Not a McLaren girl?”

I can’t help but smile, “Ferrari through and through.”

My dad shakes his head, “Don’t mind her odd preferences…” he’s about to say something else but gets pulled away by someone in orange.

Lando just looks at me, my cheeks hot as he examines me. I expect him to be mad, but he just smiles, “Y/n, huh?” I nod shyly, “It’s pretty. It fits you.”

“Okay! Lan you gotta go!” My dad claps a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away.

“Good luck!” I say quickly as he shoots me a devious look. I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and watch him leave.

⋆༺

The race has me on the edge of my seat for all 71 laps. I accidentally gasp way too loud at Lando being pushed off track and maybe start clapping when it’s announced that Max got two penalties.

The whole time I have a feeling that Lando will be on that podium, but definitely not in third.

My manifestation comes true when Charles goes off track and Lando zooms by.

Ten laps to go and I don’t think I've taken a deep breath in twenty. But the moment Lando passes the finish line, the garage claps and I sigh in relief.

I hug my dad but I watch the podium ceremony from the side, smiling as the boys get sprayed with champagne while laughing.

I see Rebecca with tears in her eyes and when I look back to the podium, I see Lando looking at me. He's grinning, holding his bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth before winking at me.

If he’s still acting like this after he found out my dad is his boss, then I am unexplainably screwed. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

After the podium, I walk back to the garage, but Lando catches me first, pulling me into a hidden area. He’s soaked in champagne and grinning like an idiot, “Have fun out there?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He nods, “Think i’m cool yet?”

“A bit… maybe when I watch you win.” His smile grows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Go out with me.” I laugh at his words, “For real this time! Y/n.” He says my name like a prayer and I never want it to stop.

“I guess I sort of owe you.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Y/n Brown. What a name… I knew you had an in!”

I shake my head, “I’m sorry. But it was fun messing with you.”

He sighs in defeat, “I feel much better that I know who you are. Although I almost passed out when the words ‘daughter’ left Zak’s mouth!” I laugh with him, champagne dripping down his curls still.

“You did really well today.”

He bites his lip, “Think of how much better I'll do knowing you’re screaming my name in the garage.” I swat his arm but he swerves and plants a kiss on my cheek.

My jaw drops as he pulls back, “I’ll pick you up tonight!” he starts walking away, backwards, “I’ll text you!”

“You don’t even have my number!” I yell after him but he just winks and blows me a kiss. Just as I turn back around and roll my eyes, I see my dad in front of me, arms crossed as my eyes go wide.

He sighs, looking like he already has a headache, “What the hell did I miss?”

[rainrot4me]

My Muse - Halloween Special

Summary: What if the Creepypasta characters were real life killers idolized the same way horror movie slashers were? Kids dressing up as Ghostface or Pennywise? More like kids decorated as Jeff the Killer or Slenderman! You chose to dress as your favorite mass murderer, Ticci Toby- and, oh, how he couldn’t get enough of it. He had never seen someone look so good in his goggles.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Vaginal, fluff and smut, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, use of a condom, slight stalking, slight obsession, praise, alcohol, slight bullying, Jeff being a big brother, slight miscommunication, slight panic attacks, decompression, Toby is obsessive but we knew that, first time?

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 12k

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! This work is based off of @h3llw1’s request made a while ago that I felt fit perfectly with a good spooky special! I will tag the request! Please be responsible and have fun tonight and this weekend!

Find the original request for this story here!

“Wait, so… Who are you dressed up as, again?”

You shuffled the goggles off of your eyes, pushing them onto your forehead and messing into your hair, turning back to your friend.

“Toby Rogers- y’know, that kid who burned all those houses down? Serial killer, dude.” You smiled awkwardly, turning back to your vanity mirror and pressing the makeup brush against your cheek, trying to recreate the infamous cheek gash in the image you had pulled up. You were almost done, detailing the fake teeth at the corner of your lips. “Was really obsessed with him in middle school…”

“Oh, right.” Your roommate, Avery, rolled her eyes, curling the strands of her hair into big voluptuous rolls, making sure each piece looked nice under her hat. She was supposed to be Strawberry Shortcake, you think, it was hard to tell with how little she was wearing of the actual costume. It was really more of a bikini topped off with a strawberry hat.

“You’re still planning on going to AJ’s party, right?” She chirped, flipping the curling iron off and lying it on the counter, reaching back to grab her phone. You paused, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror- your costume really wasn’t the ‘AJ’s party’ type. You turned around in your chair, a little overwhelmed with how messy your bedroom floor was, but promising yourself you would clean it up later tonight.

“Uh, sure- If you guys are still going.” Avery tapped away at her phone, your own lighting up with text messages to your group chat sent by her. You were waiting on the rest of her friends, some people she had become close with in her classes.

It would be fun… you hoped.

“Oh, they’re here.” Stepping out of your room, you followed her to the front door, making sure your makeup looked good in the mirror. Standing on your front step, the rest of the group was there, chittering their excitement as Avery swung the door wide.

You stood awkwardly as they all hugged, complimenting each other on their matching costumes- the other two girls were supposed to be Orange Blossom and Blueberry Muffin, but they more or less matched with Avery’s.

They each had a guy with them, the tallest one wrapping his arm around your roommate’s shoulder, the Ghostface costume he had on making her all giggly. You cringed, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie you had stitched to look like Toby’s, the stripes on your sleeves were the hardest part.

“Oh! This is my roommate [Y/N], she’s gonna come with us tonight.” You nodded, giving a small wave as they all turned to you. Brushing your hair behind your ear, they all smiled sweetly, but you could tell they were a little put off by the outfit you were wearing.

“Ah, what’re you dressed up as?” The Ghostface guy chuckled, shuffling his mask up to get a better look. 

“Oh- uhm, Toby Rogers? Like, that serial killer. Yeah.” None of them had a clue, you could see it in the weird glances they cast at one another. Avery waved them off, jingling through her keys to pull the door shut and locking it behind you. “We should get going, I don’t wanna miss anyone.”

Nodding, everyone began to walk down the hallway of your apartment building, the guys carrying six-packs of beer under their arms. Sighing, you followed behind, taking the fabric mask from under your chin and pulling it over your mouth.

You would try to have fun tonight, you swore it.

-

“Listen, kid, if you don’t hurry up I’m leaving you here.” 

Jeff crossed his arms, a scowl on his face as he watched poor Sally try and adjust her costume. Toby shoved him, kneeling beside her and reaching back to tie the little bow around her waist, casting a nasty look at the killer.

She was dressed as Annabelle, the creepy dress splattered with fake blood, making the real blood pooling from her forehead look like nothing more than some face paint. Her hair was tied into two neat little braids, Nina’s doing. Sally turned to look at herself in the reflection of EJ’s truck- Jeff had stolen it for the night, claiming he wasn’t going to walk all the way into town just for some candy. She finally nodded, holding her little basket tight in her hands.

This was her first Halloween, with Jeff of all people, so she was a little anxious. The killer, on the other hand, found this holiday to be his favorite. He could waltz the streets of the small town closest to the mansion, hood down and everything, snagging as much candy and compliments as he wanted. People really admired his ‘makeup.’

Toby decided to tag along this year, curious to see all the costumes and jack-o-lanterns. He really loved this night as a kid, he wanted to make sure it was good for Sally, too.

“I’m ready now.” She hummed, skipping forward to wrap her hand around Jeff’s hoodie sleeve, the killer rolling his eyes as he began to walk. Toby followed behind, admiring the decorations and darkly colored leaves littering the ground, a surge of excitement coursing through him. It felt just like one of those older scary movies, the sun dipping just low enough to cast an orangish hue across the clouds, kids running around giggling and screaming, parents tossing out candy left and right- he missed this feeling, what it was like to be normal.

He was older now, officially ‘candy handing-out’ age. He used to relish these days, promising that he would dress up for Halloween until he was sixty- now he had much more important things to worry about than what costume he was going to wear. If only his younger self knew how much of a genuine horror his life would become.

“C’mon, twitch, I ain’t waitin’ on you, too,” Jeff called, snapping Toby out of his trance as he watched kids race across the road, some mother yelling about being careful. He nodded, pushing his mask up over his nose, shimmying his goggles off of his forehead and over his eyes. He was still too paranoid to go outright, the covers made him feel more secure, like fewer people’s eyes were boring into him. He felt that swell of anxiety, having to remind himself that people would be far more concerned with Jeff’s look than his. Shoving his hands into his pocket, he took a deep breath- he had to calm down.

He wouldn’t lose himself tonight, he swore it.

-

“Wh- What’d you get?” Toby helped carry Sally’s basket, the thing nearly overflowing with how much she was getting, everyone was loving her costume. They were nearly done with this neighborhood, but Jeff heard some kids yelling about a Baptist church’s trunk-or-treat, and he was more than excited to show up somewhere holy. It was getting late, the sun almost nearly disappeared, so Toby knew it was almost time to wrap things up.

“Lots’a chocolate. Jeff keeps stealing the good stuff, though.” Glancing up, the killer was popping a tiny box of nerds into his mouth, tossing the cardboard onto someone’s yard when he shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got like, six more of ‘em- you’ll be fine, squirt.”

It was turning out a lot better than Toby had thought, the brunette’s worries nearly washed away as the night grew more crowded. Jeff had spotted some middle-schooler dressed as Slenderman, the killer nearly doubling over in laughter as Toby hauled his phone out to take a picture. The brunette had forgotten just how popular their boss really was, more of an internet spectacle than folklore now. A meme? Yeah, his big scary boss was a meme. Tim and Brian were going to get a crack out of it. 

Teenagers were out now, older kids walking in packs with their friends, not so much worried about getting candy as they were trying to hide the alcohol they were carrying. Toby had forgotten just how much different Halloween was when you got older- girls dressed in skimpy outfits of cartoon characters, guys trying to play cool as some movie slasher chasing everyone around, and then you had the ones who just didn’t dress up at all. It was weird.

“Damn, when did Strawberry Shortcake lose the baker getup and start wearing lingerie?” Jeff snickered, crossing his arms and nodding towards a group across the street. Toby scanned them, the orangish tint of his goggles obscuring them, but he could easily make out who the killer was talking about. He gave the rest of the pack a once-over, their outfits more or less the same as guys clung to their hips, flirty little touches as they all walked.

He almost missed it though, the one in the middle of the group, unaccompanied. Jeff must’ve seen it at the same time because he was slapping Toby’s arm like crazy.

“Oh fuck, isn’t that supposed to be you?” Toby shoved his goggles off of his face, ruffling them into his bangs just like how you had them, looking utterly bored as your group quickly began to get out of his eyesight. The brunette looked down at himself, wearing that same hoodie that every popular image depicted him in, the stripes on his sleeves the telltale sign. There was no mistaking it, you were dressed up as him.

The brunette didn’t know how to feel, didn’t even really know what to say as Jeff’s teasing went unheard beside him. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, couldn’t stop his hands from flexing and fidgeting with utter excitement.

He had to get a better look at you.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Jeff yelled across the road, Toby shoving the candy basket into the killer’s hands and jogging in the direction your friends were going.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later! Don’t wa- wait up!”

He disappeared into another block, Jeff letting out an exasperated sigh as he took Sally’s hand. “C’mon, kid. We’ve got some Baptists to freak out.”

-

It was already loud inside the house, music thumping against the walls as people tried to shout to hear one another. 

You hung against the wall of the living room, sipping slowly on whatever alcohol-filled punch they were serving in the kitchen. People were spilling out everywhere, the front yard just as busy as the rest of the rooms of AJ’s house.

It was barely even 9 PM, but nearly everyone from your school was here, familiar faces passing by with glances or cheesy small talk. Avery and her friends had disappeared into the crowd near the speakers, couples dancing and talking with one another, the pulsing neon lights, cheers following every finished game of beer pong, and the atmosphere heavy with vodka and laughter. It was nice, a little overwhelming, but nice.

You could feel the buzz in the back of your head, the tipsy dizziness you held making it a little easier to relax, the music swaying your hips gently.

You couldn’t see through the crowd, but Toby rested his shoulders back on the wall across from you, tapping his fingers across his thigh as he surveyed the crowd. He didn’t even have a drink, awkwardly trying to pretend like he was supposed to be here amongst the buzzed-out college kids.

He had followed you there, staying a comfortable distance behind your group and out of your curious eyes. It was hard not to notice the way your eyes lingered on the houses you passed, smiling at the kids who ran by, and pointing out the overzealous house decorations. You really stood out from your group, a sore thumb from the rest of them. 

What was he doing? Why was he even here? Following some girl because she was dressed as him? Toby knew he was popular, Ben reminding him every time some new post went up on the internet trying to debunk his whereabouts. It didn’t bother him, with his job came weirdos who idolized him- he had just never seen it in person before. 

It really was surreal. 

“Oh my god.”

Toby shot up, straightening as he looked to his side, panic sweeping over him.

Lost in his thoughts and the rush of the party, he hadn’t noticed you pushing to his side of the room, shuffling past to get back into the kitchen for more of whatever you were drinking. You had your mask tugged down under your chin, the facepaint on the left side of your cheek standing out against your flushed cheeks. You even had torn tissue paper to make it look realistic- God, he was going to freak out.

Holding your hands out, you look down at yourself and then at him, comparing your almost identical outfits with a bright smile. “Nice costume, man.” 

Of course, you were cute. He was trying to register you, eyes flinching across your sweet face smiling up at him.

Toby teetered, shoulder flinching just enough to make you glance, but not enough to take the excitement away from your face. He also realized he was just staring and not saying anything- “Oh! Yea- Yeah, hah-” The cool metal of his mask pressed against his cheeks, staring oddly at the fabric one you had.

“Oh damn, you’ve got like- the legit facemask. I just got mine from Spirit, it’s pretty crappy.” You laughed to yourself, holding the solo cup awkwardly in your hands, fidgeting with the lid. Toby immediately regretted his decision, wracking through his brain for some way to get out of here- he forgot how painful small talk was. “I didn’t know anybody else even knew who Ticci Toby was.”

God, that nickname. The play on words was supposed to be funny, but its holder didn’t think it was all that humorous. He smiled at you anyway; there was just something about the way you said it, all giddy.

“Ah, yeah. Mine’s pre- pretty old.” He was fidgeting again, unprepared for how you snuck up on him. “I, uhm, tried my best. Haven’t re- really dressed up in a while.” You complimented him heftily, pointing out the ‘fake’ dirt and blood stains across his hoodie, the great quality of his goggles, and even how he got his makeup to that weird milky-gray skin color. To you, it was just a very well-done costume. 

“No, I get it. I don’t usually go all out like this,” Looking down at yourself, you put on sort of a blush, nervous chirping about how niche it was. Toby couldn’t help but smile. “I just have always really loved his story, so I wanted to make one of my last Halloween’s memorable, y’know?” Ah, candy-handing-out age. A million thoughts ran in the brunette’s mind, but he found himself relaxing again, shoulder pressed onto the wall as you rambled. “I’m just glad I’m not the only one who likes him.”

With you, this close, cheery little features continuing to blab on about the rest of the small details of your own costume, he couldn’t help but find himself listening so intently. A fan? Is that what you were? It felt weird to think about it like that, but the brunette found himself blushing at the thought of an admirer.

“-And I fringed the bottom of his hoodie with a lighter. It was hard to get it to look right, but I really liked how it came out. Y’know, for like him burning his house and stuff- I thought it was a nice detail.” Toby was nodding along, surprised by the little burn holes near the pockets of your lookalike hoodie, the attention to detail far more than he was expecting. “That’s really cool, uh-”

“[Y/N].”

“Uh- Toby.” Was that going to give it away-

“Even got the name down too, huh? Man, I see why you dressed up as him- you fit everything to a T.” He relaxed, your obliviousness laughable, but also a heavy relief.

People brushed by, bumping into both of your shoulders and shimmying their way through. You refocused again, pointing back over your shoulder with a shy smile. “Would you, uh, wanna get some more to drink? I was going anyway-”

Woah- You were inviting him to hang out longer? He was about to refuse, come up with some weird excuse to get back to Jeff and Sally, but the way you gleamed up at him, flashing lights and overstimulating music, it felt so odd.

He was going to let himself give in. He was wearing a ‘costume’ after all, so why not play up the act and enjoy himself a little bit? Slender would have him out running these woods by tomorrow, so why not just take the night and at least pretend like he was still a normal kid? Like all those bad things never happened, being a proxy never happened… He was just a kid who grew up, spending Halloween how normal teenagers did now. Yeah, he was going to let himself have this one night if nothing else.

Toby nodded, pushing off of the wall as you led the way, pushing through the mess of wildly dressed people into the kitchen. Behind you, now, Toby could see the way you still stood out amongst everyone, odd glances being cast in your direction. Just like him, almost, a freak in a sea of hateful eyes. You get it.

“I don’t really know what this stuff is, but it tastes pretty good.” You laugh, flipping the nozzle of the jug holding whatever concoction was mixed with red Kool-Aid, pouring some into two cups. You handed it to Toby, the brunette awkwardly swirling the liquid around with a nervous stare. You giggled at him, wrapping your hand around the sleeve of his hoodie, and guiding him out the back door and onto the patio.

The atmosphere was much calmer than inside, the muffled thumping of whatever song was playing giving a nice rhythmic atmosphere as you sat on top of the stairs leading out into the backyard. You both watched friends and couples dare each other to jump into the pool, the chilly autumn air guiding you to believe the water wasn’t much warmer. Toby sat next to you, mask still snug on his face, revealing nothing for your curious mind.

“So, Toby, what’re you doing here?” You sipped lightly on the drink, contrasting flavors of vodka swirling in the fruity punch, the sting of alcohol making you cringe. Toby hesitated, still tapping his fingers on the side of the plastic cup, trying his best to calm his rushing nerves.

“Uhm- well, y’know… Halloween par- party stuff…” Even though you had taken notice of his stutter ages ago, you forcefully ignored it. You knew better than anyone about nerves, you didn’t want the poor guy to feel any worse about it. Still, his answer made you laugh.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” You smile as he shakes his head, leaning back to glance up at the sky, the moon hanging bright and casting a milky glow across the clouds. Toby really enjoyed it when it was like this, made it easier to see where he was going at night. “That’s alright, I don’t really belong here, either.” You enjoyed the moon because it was pretty. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“How come?” Toby leaned back, too, kicking his legs out as he relaxed, easing into the conversation. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I only came because my roommate invited me, I didn’t really want to come. These things aren’t really my deal.” You took another sip, Toby taking in every inch of your face, studying every detail as you spoke. “I would’ve much rather gone trick-or-treating. I guess we’re all a little too old for that now, though, huh?”

The breeze ruffled your hair, wrapping your knees in tight against your chest as the air chilled you. Toby caught himself admiring- it was almost like you were wearing his hoodie, the top just a little oversized on you- he could imagine it. “Nah, I used to love it. Wish it wasn’t we- weird to go when you got a certain age like there’s a time lim- limit on when you can ask for candy.” He smiled, flinching his leg a little.

Toby felt his phone buzz in his back pocket, leaning over to dig it out, flipping the screen up to see a text message from Jeff.

“wtf r u?????” “party. dont wait up.” “😡🖕🙄”

Just to make sure, Toby shared his location with the killer, flipping his phone off and shoving it back into his pocket.

You gave him a sideways glance, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “You haven’t even drank anything- at least try it. It’s not all that bad.” Clearly, considering you were throwing the cup back to finish off presumably your second glass.

Toby awkwardly cupped his hand onto the metal of his mask, sliding it down below his chin. Thankfully, he had remembered to get EJ to redo the bandages on the corner of his mouth, the gaudy wound becoming irritating to deal with. He wishes it was just cool makeup like yours.

Taking a sip from the cup, he cringed, brows knotting as he shut his eyes. “God- That’s like- straight vodka with fru- fruit syrup- Fuck-” It burned his tongue, your laughter so sweet beside him, resting your hand on his shoulder. He made a funny face, fake gagging on the terrible thing.

He sat straight when you gasped, cupping your hands onto his cheeks and turning his head forcefully. His instincts kicked, hands flexing to grab at you, to slam you down across the pavement below- 

Until you were rubbing your thumb across his bandages gently, flattening out the ends that had become soiled with dried blood. Toby forced himself to relax, his heart thudding in his chest with adrenaline. No one usually got this close- touched him- unless they were clawing for their life. It was like a whiplash, having to condition himself differently for your ignorance.

“Dude, no way you’ve been hiding these all night! Fuck, even these look real- how in the world are you so good at dressing up?” You were taking in every detail of his face, assuming the scars across his lips and cheekbones were merely good makeup skills or a talented friend, Toby trying his best not to freak out with you this close.

You seemed to notice it too, because you were snapping your hands back, eyes blowing wide-

“Shit- sorry- I get real excited about these things… The drinks probably aren’t helping either.” You chuckled, awkwardly sitting back and tucking your knees against your chest, silently cursing yourself for making him uncomfortable with your weird obsession. Toby noticed it, immediately catching the switch-up in your attitude.

Holding his palm out, he levels it in front of you, catching your attention. “I’ve, uhm, got the weird hand bandages, too.” He sheepishly smiled, watching as you slowly lit up again, taking his hand between your own.

“No way…” You picked at the medical wrap clinging around his hand, little bandaids and medical tape snugged tight around his fingers to hide the terrible bite marks and scars he had given himself, that gaudy proxy symbol etched into his flesh. He wanted to compliment your makeup, to say something about how realistic it looked-

Until you both heard a piercing scream from across the patio.

“Tyler!”

Snapping your gaze to the noise, you watched as a tall jockey guy hauled a tiny blonde girl over his shoulders, taking two heavy steps before he jumped into the pool, dragging her along with him. Toby was concerned but was quickly caught off guard when you began to laugh, slapping his arm.

“Avery! Are you okay?!” The other girls on the side of the pool knelt down beside the water, reaching their arms out to help the poor girl back onto solid land. They quickly had a towel wrapped around her, and the guy, Tyler, hopped up onto the side, high-fiving the similar-looking guys accompanying them.

You were still laughing, Toby smiling even when the girl came over to the steps, hurriedly trying to get back inside.

“Ah- [Y/N]? Who’s this?” Your roommate gave Toby a once-over, casting a sideways glance as she noticed you both were wearing the same outfit.

“Uh, This is Toby- we’re dressed as the same thing, see?” You were all cheery, smiling up at her even as she dripped water everywhere. Toby recognized them now, the skimpy group you were walking with, the ones who left you alone almost immediately after getting to the party. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt you, but the brunette had seen it all, catching every time you longingly stared at them through the crowd- the way you still did now.

“Right… Well, I’m glad you guys found each other,” You could hear the sarcasm in her voice, her friends hanging behind her and giving you both funny looks, whispering to one another as she talked. Toby knew you noticed it, too. You were pressing your knees against your chest again, shriveling up into yourself. “Look, we’re leaving. Probably going to finish the night out at some bars if you want to head on back to the apartment.”

You began to nod, giving Toby a half-glance of defeat, taking your empty cup in hand as you began to stand up.

“Uh- Ac- Actually, we’re going trick-or-treating. So, don’t wa- wait up.” Toby stared daggers into the girl, unapologetically snagging your hand in his as he stood, taking his cup in hand. Avery watched him with a sour look, glancing back and forth between you two before stepping up the rest of the stairs. “You two have fun, then. Freaks.”

She definitely said the last part louder than she meant to, because her friends were giggling as they trailed behind her, quickly scuttling into the crowded house. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let it show, but the pang in your chest was heavy.

Toby looked at you, took a firm grip on the solo cup, and closed his eyes. You watched with bright eyes as he chugged the rest, throat burning as he groaned, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. You smiled, forgetting that your hand was still tucked neatly into his as you both raced off the patio, pushing through the fence gate, and climbing out onto the road. The street lights were on now, kids dwindling as houses stopped handing out candy, but Toby was determined to get you some.

“Are we actually trick-or-treating?” You laughed, Toby dragging you along with him, pulling his mask back up and over his nose. “Dude, we’re like, totally too old for this stuff, now-”

“And? Just cause I’m older doesn’t me- mean I stopped loving candy.” He hollered. You clung against his side, the breeze pushing through your hair and giving your nose a cute little blush, eyes bright with excitement as you gripped his hand tighter. You tugged your own mask up, shimmying your plastic goggles off of your head and over your eyes, completing the entire look. Toby stalled, heart whirling in his chest as you raced down the sidewalk, excitement buzzing in the air.

Jeff was going to kill him, but it would be worth it.

-

“Trick or treat!”

You held out a plastic Walmart bag, the thing nearly busting with how many pieces of candy it was holding. You both had meant to stop five houses ago, but when you somehow wound up in the nicer neighborhood four blocks over, you couldn’t pass up the full-size candy bars they were giving out.

The tipsiness was really hitting now, you both holding onto one another as concerned glances from parents dumping the rest of their candy into your bag. You always hated those obnoxious people who laughed or talked too loud in public, but now, you found yourself doubling over, cackling at the mean comments Toby was dishing out to little kids’ costumes.

“Tha- That’s supposed to be Spiderman? Yeesh.” It wasn’t even that funny, but you nearly hit your knees from lack of air, laughing so hard that your chest was hurting. Toby’s eyes were heavy, neck jerking and body twitching from the overstimulation, his cheeks a rosy color from the swirl of alcohol in his bloodstream.

“Okay, okay,” You raised up, catching your breath as you leaned against his arm, the rusty smell of his cologne surrounding you. “I think if we get any more- hic- we’re gonna be picking all of it up off the ground.” You pointed at the sack, the plastic stretching and threatening to bust out everywhere. Toby nodded, reaching in and snagging a Hershey’s kiss, popping the sweet chocolate into his mouth. You acted offended, holding the bag close as you both laughed.

The streets were nearly empty now, most of the houses’ lights being turned off and decorations unplugged, the only sign of activity from cars driving by or random groups of kids racing back home to review their hauls. You could feel your own room calling to you, your intoxication pulsing sleepiness into your mind.

Toby noted when you yawned, taking that as a silent sign that the night was ending, preparing to part ways with you. He nearly reached back into his pocket, going to give Jeff a call to come pick him up.

“Wanna go back to my place?”

He paused, your heavy eyes grinning up at him.

“Uh- What?” He could feel himself blushing. Was it just the vodka? He hoped so.

“Well, I ain’t gonna eat all of this by myself. Besides, I’m not trusting myself to get back without crashing out in a bush somewhere.” Toby laughed, rolling his eyes as you waited for his answer, shifting your weight nervously. You smiled when he nodded, your arm quickly wrapping around his and dragging him down the rest of the street.

Reaching over, he took the bag of candy from your hands, stuffing it under his arm. You walked slowly, taking in the dulled-out character inflatables and oversized skeletons in people’s yards, pointing out the Spirit Halloween animatronics that you found so cool. He couldn’t help but find himself staring, encapsulated with you. You found such beauty in what everyone else found offputting, admiring what even he would call strange.

“You’re so weird.” He huffed with a grin.

You glanced up at him, rolling your eyes. “You like it.”

Toby couldn’t find a good answer, turning his attention back to the street lights out front. He did like it. 

“So, I never asked about you- Like, really. What do you do when you’re not wearing the best Toby Rogers cosplay ever?” Toby glanced at you, stalling out mentally as he tried to come up with something.

“Uh, I travel a lo- lot. Kinda like an on-call thing. Uhm… Yeah.” You nodded along, but the brunette wasn’t entirely sure you were hearing what he was saying. You were just looking at him, eyelids hanging low as you took in every detail of his face. He smiled, reaching his free hand to tug your mask down under your chin, your sly grin hidden underneath.

“Tell me abo- about you, [Y/N]. What is Ms. Rogers doing when she’s not ob- obsessing over me?”

Toby paused, a dead stare into your eyes as he choked on his words. He slipped up- Did you notice, would you care? He could feel the panic rising in his chest, jerks twinging at the back of his neck, anxiety swelling-

“Woah, easy tiger-” You’re giggling, pushing the strands of hair that fell in your face when you did an unbalanced little bow. “Didn’t know I was in the presence of such a celebrity.”

Toby was already relaxing, shoulders untensing faster than they wound, trying his best to settle his shaky hands. “But, I don’t know. I’m in between jobs? School?” You fidgeted with your hands, your arm still wrapped tightly around his. The weight was comforting. “I’m only still here because it’s where I grew up, but I don’t know what I’m doin’ now…” Your stare was distant, fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve as you talked. 

He was about to say something, trying to muster up some affirming speech that Tim used to tell him when things got rough. But you were tugging him off of the sidewalk, skipping towards some apartment complex building. “We’re hereee…”

He followed you through the neat hallways, the stout smell of clean and tacky air fresheners strong on the brightly colored carpet. Toby didn’t know if he had ever been in a place so nice, dozens of doors lining everywhere you went, feeling like he could get lost if you weren’t dragging him into an elevator.

Pressing your floor button, he leaned back against the brassy walls, your hands rummaging through your pockets and hauling out a set of keys. Cute little keychains were hooked onto the loop, reaching back into your pocket for your phone, swiping across the screen.

“Here, smile-” You were leaning back against him, holding your hand high in the air to take a selfie, Toby grinning goofily up into the camera. Looking over the picture, you smiled, never moving off of his shoulder as the elevator took you up, Toby’s heart soaring much higher.

-

“How many of those are you going to eat?” You gasped, tossing another Skittles wrapper onto your floor, adding to the mess that you swore you were going to clean up.

Alternatively, you were lying on your back, laid out on your even messier bed, stuffing your face with possibly the most unhealthy amounts of sweets. Toby sat on the floor, his back pressed against your footboard, rummaging his hands through the sack and tossing pieces up to you. 

He looks really good in just a t-shirt, you thought, catching yourself staring at his toned shoulders.

“As many as I want.” He grinned, popping another jawbreaker into his mouth. Your twin pairs of goggles and masks lay scattered on the floor, hoodies bunched at his feet. Toby was in bliss, the sweet smell of your perfume and clothes soaked in all around him, pieces of you everywhere he looked. Posters of your favorite bands, corkboard full of keychains and polaroids, even your wall-mounted TV playing some older murder mystery documentary. He loved how normal it felt, how comfortable, and different.

In his mind, he could see you going through the motions every day, the boy longing for even just a taste of that. In the way you admired his weirdness, he admired your normality. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“I’m officially cutting myself off until Christmas.” You huffed, climbing off of the bed and staggering to your vanity. Toby watched as you fiddled through your makeup, popping open the box of makeup wipes and taking one out. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you began to wipe the design on your cheek off, rubbing the wipe over your eyes and cleansing your skin of the fake deep-set eyes. The brunette was lost, mesmerized by how your rosy cheeks looked so sweet in the warm light of your bedside lamp, eyes brighter than ever.

Sitting off your chair, Toby sat up a little when you grabbed another wipe, kneeling next to him. “Your turn.”

He stuttered, glancing from your now-clean face to the wipe in hand, nervousness creeping up in his throat. The wipe was cold, pressing it against his as you tried to clean him off, Toby watching through worried eyes when your face started to contort, confusion heavy in your features. “Dude, like, none of this is coming off. What kind of makeup did you use?”

“Hah- Uh, the good stuff, y’know?” He could tell you weren’t convinced, scrubbing just a little harder on his cheekbone until the grayish skin became littered with red irritation. You sat back on your heels, cupping the side of his cheek with your free hand, running your thumb across the skin under his eye. Toby flinched, your other hand coming up to cup the other side of his head, eyes tensed in focus. 

Fuck, here it goes.

“This isn’t makeup, is it?”

Toby cringed, refusing to look you directly in the eyes. His fingers flexed, the outline of his pocketknife pressing against his leg, a silent reminder. He didn’t want to do it, God, he silently begged not to, prayed for you to brush it off so he could get out of here. The room felt so small now, your closeness becoming increasingly irritating the longer you stared.

But the brunette knew that if you reacted how everyone else did, with panicked screams that would have your curious neighbors come knocking, he knew what he would have to do. Even someone as awestruck as you couldn’t keep him from the inevitable.

He clenched his jaw when you dropped your hands, parting your lips like you wanted to say something, but getting tangled in your own thoughts.

“[Y/N]. I’m- uhm- I’m him, okay?”

You just kept staring, “I get it, your costume was good- okay? I don’t-”

“No, I’m not- Jeez,” He slid his hand up the side of his thigh, finally forcing himself to look at your confused face, eyes snagging onto every detail. “I’m Ro- Rogers. Like- Toby, Toby Rogers… I’m Ticci Toby.”

Tapping his heel on your carpeted floor, the brunette waited, collecting every twitch of your eyes or shaky breath that you took. He was ready for the yelling, the panic, taking calculated measurements in his head of just how many steps it would take for you to get to your bedroom door. He had done it a million times, ended someone’s life a million times. He would force this time not to be different.

His hand flexed around the indent of his pocketknife, ready to flip the metal open as you sat up onto your knees.

Your hands moved slowly, following the same motion you had been making all night, but this time it was more meaningful. Toby flinched as your warm fingertips brushed along his jaw, wrapping gently around his cheeks as you said nothing, the brunette trying to keep the floodgates of panic from cracking open in his mind.

That’s when he felt your fingernails picking at the bandage on his cheek, pinching the edge, and slowly, carefully removing the sterile cloth underneath, the fabric spotty with dried blood. Toby let his eyes shut, his facial wound now on full display, slowly ticking the seconds of silence by in his mind, relishing in the fleeting feeling of his ‘normality.’

He was a fool to ever think he could have something so nice-

“The pictures on the internet do not do you justice.”

The rush came to a stop, eyes slowly flinching open as he looked at you, his brows knitted in confusion. “What?”

“There’s these pictures on Twitter, really blurry, but still- of you. They don’t make this thing look half as cool as it really is.” As if to confirm it for yourself, you brushed your thumb across the edge of his skin where the flesh broke off in torn tissue and exposed the side of his gums. You watched to see if he would flinch, carefully pressing the softness of his cheek to watch the skin stretch and move- it was real.

Toby watched as you sat back, setting your hands down in your lap. It was strange how the brunette found himself missing the warmth of your touch, already.

“Toby… Toby… How the fuck did I not see it sooner?” You repeated his name over and over, rolling the syllables off your tongue and stapling them in your mind. “How did I not notice? I’ve seen your face a million times.”

Toby could barely register any of it, his heart thudding a mile a minute as you carried on like everything was normal, more angry with yourself for not noticing it was him than anything. It was almost a blur as you scooted forward, leaning in close to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him in so gently. 

He could feel himself melt, hand unraveling from his knife as the panic dissipated, the sweet, lovely smell of your perfume heavy in his nose. He had to be dreaming, he thought, slowly coaxing his hands around your back and pulling you in closer, forgetting the last time he had even had a hug at all.

But then it ends all too quickly, your hands pushing back on his shoulders, a panicked look in your eyes.

“I must seem insane.” And then you’re standing up, running your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth across the messiness of your bedroom. Toby shakes his head, standing off the ground, reaching out to you. “I’ve been going on and on about you all night- I must seem so psycho and crazy. This is so embarrassing- What the fuck?” 

He’s grabbing your arms, pulling you back over to the foot of your bed, and sitting you down, an exasperated smile on his face. He was so worried about you freaking out or becoming terrified that he completely forgot who you were. You had been rambling about him all night, unknowingly complimenting the boy right to his face, and Toby was scared you wouldn’t like him. Just like how you’re worried about looking crazy, embarrassment flooding your face as you hide your palms in your hands.

“[Y/N], lo- look at me.” He tugs your hands away, sitting beside you on the bed, leaning down so you’re forced to look at him. You nervously hold his gaze, face so red and flustered, he’s smiling at you like a little kid. “It’s cute.”

And then you’re flopping back onto the bed, screaming into your hands as Toby laughs, running his hands through his hair.

Is this what it’s like? Teenagers hiding out in their rooms, casting sheepish glances at one another all night until one of them cracks, everything flooding out. He should be taking a priority, getting the hell out of your room and out of your life before he gets mixed up with something he can’t pull himself away from. But the flirty touches, teasing, and everything else that got him here clouds his judgment.

Then you’re sitting back up, scooting closer, and throwing your arms around his neck, abandoning every thought he was just brushing over in his mind. He holds you close, your face hiding in the crook of his neck, taking uneven, steady breaths as you try and rationalize it all, before giving up. “I’m sorry, Toby.”

And now it’s his turn to be confused, leaning back to look you in the face. “For?”

“Everything. The things even I couldn’t have controlled, the things that made you this way- Nobody’s probably ever told you before, so I will: I’m sorry. I’ve studied your story so many times, went over every detail, ran your perspective in my dreams- but even still, I can’t possibly imagine.”

The brunette can’t feel pain, he doesn’t understand the cut of a knife or the sting of a bullet. But the pang that snags in his chest, this heavy weight that feels like all the pain he's ever missed out on- that hurts worse than anything. But looking into your eyes, his hands planted firm on your skin, the solid weight beside him- It’s like it's all never even mattered in the first place.

For the first time in his life, he’s being seen. Viewed as more than just a weapon.

Screw the different perspective, screw the polar opposites, he’s in the here and now. It doesn’t matter if he’s been pretending tonight or his entire life, right now is real. He’s not going to lose it.

“Ca- Can I kiss you…?” It’s nearly a whisper, his voice so quiet and nervous as he leans forward on your bed.

You glance from his eyes down to his lips, heart thumping so loud you’re scared he might be able to hear it. You nod anyway, blinking slowly as you hold his gaze. “Y- Yeah.”

Toby brings his hand up nice and slow, cupping the side of your cheek as he leans in, fingers trembling against your skin. Your hand reaches to cup his, warm fingers relaxing atop his, a satisfying weight that has the boy swooning. Then you’re leaning in, too, slowly fluttering your eyes shut.

And then your lips touch, and everything just holds for a moment.

All the rush of the night, the nervousness, the excitement, it stops for just this one second.

You’re leaning into his touch, soft lips pressed firmly against his rough ones, slowly twinging your jaw to coax him deeper. He feels like he’s melting, skin so hot to the touch when you reel him in, your free hand snaking up the backside of his neck and into his messy curls.

He groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss and leaning back, breathing heavily. Your face is so flushed, cheeks a deep vermillion that makes Toby smile a little, grinning as he still cups your cheek. Your fingers brush through his hair, coaxing his head into your hand with such gentle touches. It’s so sweet, so calm, a complete turn from what the brunette is used to.

He knows pain, and rough, and cold- but you- there’s only sweetness, and caring, and warmth behind those eyes. He wants more of it, to feel more of it, he has to have it- to have you.

It doesn’t hit him what just happened until you’re giggling in front of him. Then that hold snaps, his conscience rushing back into him, and he’s leaning back further-

“I’m so so sorry- Oh my god- I don’t kn- know what I was thinking- I- Gah- I’m so sorry-”

“Toby.”

“If I should go- or- Oh, my god- I’m sorry- I should-”

“Toby.”

“I’m just so-”

And then your hands are wrapped into his hair, pushing forward until your lips collide, hurried, loud kisses that have the brunette spiraling, eyes fluttering shut again. There’s that warmth, your body leaning in to press close to his, arms wrapping around his neck, he thinks he might pass away.

You pull back, taking a deep breath as Toby collects himself, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He’s a mess, brain running a mile a minute, his body having a hard time catching up as he twitches and jerks. 

Throwing your leg over his, you straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and holding him close. He’s swallowed by the sweet smell of your perfume, resting his chin on your shoulder as he wraps onto your back, heart thumping against your chest. He finds the thoughts flooding, dissipating the more he breathes, disappearing into this blanket of quiet.

“You alright?” You whisper, brushing your fingers through the back of his hair, his skin tingling with your touch. He hums low against your shoulder, running his fingers up and down your spine, the touch making you sigh. He could live forever in this moment, could die happy right here.

But when his fingers mindlessly dip a little too low, brushing your lower back right above the waistline of your jeans, Toby mewls at the way you grip onto tufts of his hair. It’s abrupt, a reaction, but he feeds into it anyway. He brushes that spot again, right above your tailbone, and you’re taking a deep, shaky breath against his neck. He likes that a lot.

Gently, he tugs the hem of your shirt up, just enough to see a peak of your skin. You pause, hitching a breath when you feel his cold fingers wind up under your shirt and press against your back.

“Toby-” He promises he’ll stop if you ask him to, making sure you know that- but you’re shaking your head, gripping onto his arm as he pushes his hand higher, snaking his fingers along the bony press of your back. You let out a low groan, quiet, but just enough to have Toby aching for more. He stops when his fingers brush the strap of your bra, dipping back down to caress the curve of your skin, studying every detail you’ll let him get.

“You’re so pretty…” He whispers, the dull lamp glowing across your flushed face making him blush, your body relaxing against his hold. Your noises are like a drug, he wants to hear them over and over, the softness of your voice so intoxicating. But more than that, he wants you. If this is all he gets, he’ll cherish it for the rest of his days.

Wrapping an arm around your back, he’s flipping you over, pushing you up to the center of your plush bed and towering over you. “Toby…” He drinks in your sweet gasps as he intertwined his lips with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were with a swipe of his tongue across your lower lip. Toby’s hands wandered the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to rub your waist. It’s so greedy, so hurried and eager, but doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

Your fingers run through his curls, following his head as he moves off your lips, slowly pressing a trail of gentle, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. You’re gasping, running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in when he kisses just above your collarbone- but then he’s sitting back, pushing up and off of you with a worried look.

“Fu- Fuck, I’m sorry-” And then you’re sitting up on your elbows, a concerned look on your face. “I’m not be- bein’ myself tonight- I don’t know what’s wrong. Shit, [Y/N], I’m sorry-”

“Toby, it’s alright-” You laugh, pushing up to sit in front of him, reaching out before he takes your wrists in his hands, holding them down.

“No- I just, never do any- anything like this- It’s like I can’t stop-” Even through his apologies he’s staring at your lips, that hunger pooling in his chest for another sweet taste.

“You’re telling me I get to kiss the boy I’ve had a crush on for years, and he’s worried about not being able to stop?” Exasperation was heavy on your face, it’s almost laughable how much playful irritation was in your voice. Toby caught that last part though, the words going straight to his head.

“You gotta crush on me?” He smiles, redness tinting his cheeks. He’s still holding your wrists, your eyes slowly widening as the heat settles on your face.

“I, uhm- Well, you see-” You’re scrambling for words, the cheesy smile on Toby’s face not helping your case at all. “I mean, I thought it was kinda obvious. I dressed up as you for Halloween, man.”

He doesn’t let his conscience weigh him down anymore, pulling your hands to wrap around his neck before he pushes you back down onto the bed, swallowing the sweet taste of your lips against him. He can still taste the sourness of the candy you were eating on your tongue, too. He licks at the plush of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck- he probably won’t.

You’re a giggly mess, spreading your knees for him to slot between them, his muscled arms wrapping around the small of your waist. “And I’ve nev- never seen someone be able to pull off my go- goggles so well.” He prays you won’t be able to feel the bulge he’s sporting, but when your legs wrap around his hips, he loses all hope.

Your stomach flutters, tingles across your skin as he’s back on your neck, little nips and kisses that have your back arching off of the comforter, arms tightening around him. He would kiss you forever, marking every inch of your skin with a delicate brush of his lips, he could waste his time like that forever. You wrap your legs around Toby’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low groans at the snag of your clothed core. Both of you knew it- he needed you so badly.

But then you’re pushing your warm hands up the back of his shirt, fingers scorching across his toned muscles and scratching your nails into his skin. You push the top off of his shoulders, up and over his head before throwing it to the side, glancing down at the slim but strong figure looming above you. Scars adorn his skin, long gashes or scattered fragments of bullets that have clipped him, not to mention the littered cigarette burns all down his abdomen. He finds it disgusting, blemishes that he can’t stand to look at.

But you’re tracing them with your fingers, rubbing your thumbs across the blistered burns that made him sick, taking in every inch of him. And smiling. Was it possible to fall in love this fast?

“They’re disgusting.”

“They’re so cool.”

He can’t muster the words to fight you as you’re reaching deeper, pushing your hands further down his torso to snag onto his jeans, reaching for his belt. Toby’s body comes to a rushing halt, his heart beating so hard, the feeling of his cock finally getting the attention it wanted.

His hands rest on either side of your shoulders, a dark shadow over you as you slowly undo his belt, unbuttoning his jeans hastily. Hands dipping past the band of his boxers-

He was big- so mouthwateringly big. Flushed a deep shade of pink at his tip, pulsing in your hand so comfortably- every part of Toby was so endlessly pretty to you. He was gasping, eyes trained on how your fist slowly moved, so hot and heavy in your grasp as you pumped him at a steady, methodical pace. “Ah- Shit…”

Glancing back up to you, your face is so red, lips parted as Toby takes your jaw into his grasp, forcing you to look up at him before he bullies his tongue past your lips, little groans slipping past. Your back arches into him as his hands snake up your shirt, parting from your lips only to push the fabric over your head, capturing your kiss quickly again. He thinks he can manage, thinks he can keep his composure- but then your thumb runs over his slit, precum dribbling out onto your finger, and he's moaning into your mouth like he's never been touched before.

He hasn’t, not like this, not this gentle.

“[Y/N]- Oh God-” You’re biting his bottom lip, fingers clenched tight around the swollen head of his cock and pumping gently, his hips twitching and jerking for more. He pushes off of you, the breathless flush of your face so pretty under him, but then he’s glancing down.

And, fuck.

Your tits sit so pretty in your bra, blushed skin laid out beneath him as shaky hands reach to unbutton your jeans, jerky fingers quickly tugging them down your thighs and onto the floor below. And then he can’t believe how he's gone this long without you, or how he'll be able to survive another night if you’re not with him. 

Where you admire his blemishes, he admires your perfection. Not a nasty knife scar or bullet nip anywhere on you, skin so soft and warm, his cold hands running across your smooth hips. “Gorgeous.” It’s the only thing he can think to say, but it doesn't do you any justice.

“Let me- Can I touch you? Pl- Please-”

You don’t answer, just rising up off of the bed to reach behind your back, unclipping your bra so seamlessly as it falls off your shoulders. Toby nearly moans when you toss the fabric to the side, chest rising and falling with shaky breaths, tits so round and heavy- so pretty.

Falling to your side, he’s holding you close, one leg draping over his bony hip as he shimmies his jeans off. Your legs spread wide, hands gripped tight into the softness of his curls as rough lips wrap around your nipple. You’re gasping, skin fluttering with every touch across your abdomen, cold fingers slowly trailing down just below your belly button. He stays there, tongue pressing flat across your nipple as the pads of his digits line the hem of your panties, teasing as you buck your hips up, silently begging for him to go lower.

The brunette’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panties, causing you to jerk at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before glancing up at you through heavy eyelids. “My turn, pretty girl.”

“Toby- hah- Yeah-” His free hand wraps behind your back, cradling you into his side as he pinches at your unattended nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers. He smiles against your tit, a long sigh of relief when you feel his fingers break past the line of your panties.

His fingers dip into the warm folds of your cunt, dipping down to collect your arousal on his digits, messily swiping across your plushy lips. You’re already soaked just from kissing, Toby popping off of your nipple to snag your lips, kissing you hungrily as you pant into his mouth. His fingers circle your clit, the nub pulsing and jerking at his touch, hips rising and falling as they chase the sensation. “Jesus- You’re soaked.”

Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub, you gasp, heat so prominent on your cheeks. “Don’t worry, I go- got you.” He’s unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor nipples, or soaking his tongue in the warmness of your mouth, lips glistening with his saliva. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You’ve never been touched like this before, and Toby didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your gummy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. You cry out, breaking from his kiss and giving him a good excuse to snag back onto your tit, gently biting on your reddened nipple.

He’s pumping his fingers rhythmically, curling them in a way that has your eyes fluttering shut, fingers tugging his hair so hard it makes him groan at the pressure. His digits glisten in the low light, hand stretching the fabric of your panties He’s hitting that little spot each and every time., looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your nipple, lips wrapped tight around the skin.

“Sh- Shit, Toby-” You groan, grinding your hips down as he stuffs his fingers all the way to the knuckle, the two middle digits spreading and pressing against your walls, coaxing your legs to spread wider. His palm bumps against your clit, holding his hand there to press firm against the bundle of nerves, your jaw hanging loose when he leans up to go in for more kisses. He is all over you, barely able to breathe as he ravages your skin, fingers bullying their way deeper until you can feel yourself gushing across his palm. The noises are so lewd, the schlick, schlick of your wet cunt taking him back in, walls clenching around his thick fingers. You can’t stand it, can’t take it anymore-

Toby can see it in your face, in the way you stop kissing him back to let out a long, guttural moan that has him in bliss. His fingers beat faster, fucking your swollen cunt open as his unattended cock throbs and leaks against your thigh, begging to replace his fingers.

“S’good Toby. Fuck. Right there- Don’t stop.” And then your arms are wrapping around his head, cradling his face into your neck as you fall apart on his fingers, pussy gushing and practically dripping with your orgasm. You think maybe you see stars, or it’s just the freckles on the brunette’s skin when he captures your lips, drinking up every moan you feed him.

His cock is wilting, throbbing, and twitching against your leg as you finally settle out, breathy groans that have you both staring at each other through heavy gazes. He slips his hand from your ruined panties, pulling your knee up higher to spread your legs more as he slides the fabric from your hips and tosses them somewhere unseen, taking his cock in his soaked fingers. 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip, smearing your juices with his cockhead as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good, his face disappearing into the crook of your neck as he gently nibbles your burning skin. “Need you so bad, Toby.” You breathe out, nearly panting. “Co- Condom. In the nightstand-”

Despite wanting to feel you, really feel you wrapped around him, he kisses just below your jaw before rolling over. Fishing for a condom in your drawer, he misses you sitting up, fresh orgasm giving you a rush of need as you watch him haul the packet in between his fingers.

Because then you’re pushing his shoulders down onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you snag the condom from him, quickly tearing open the packet. Toby watches with excitement, hands reaching to cradle against the sides of your thighs, fingers digging into your plush skin when you slowly slide the latex down his throbbing length. It’s snug, but thin, able to feel every pulse of your cunt as you take the base of him in your hand, swiping his tip along your folds, wetting himself. It was all the preparation you were going to give yourself because fuck Toby needed to be inside your pussy right now.

Then you feel like you’re being split apart- Toby’s cock was slowly pushing up into your warmth as he presses through the first ring of muscle. Before you can overthink, you’re nudging your hips down gently. So agonizingly gentle that Toby has to stop his hips from riding off the bed. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as you seat yourself on his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. “Ah- Hah-”

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy, hands resting on his chest as he watches you. 

You’re so nauseously tight, gripping his length in a way that had his eyes rolling back, fingers digging red marks into your skin. You’re both breathless, eyes clamped shut and bodies shaky when your hips finally meet his, so utterly full of him. Toby can’t even find the words for it.

That’s when you hear voices from outside your closed bedroom door, Avery and her friends returning from whatever drunken night they had, loud as ever.

In a panic, you push your hands over Toby’s mouth, the brunette’s hot breath fogging against your skin as he smiles, waiting patiently as they all file into Avery’s room, voices slowly dwindling out. Meanwhile, you’re pulsing around him, cunt clenching as you’re forced to wait.

But eventually it's all clear, palm slowly letting off of his mouth, a teasingly smile plastered on his face. You roll your eyes, quietly laughing as you steady yourself, pushing your knees further against his sides. You’re pulling your hips up eagerly, achingly fucking yourself at a slow, sensual pace. His tip kisses your cervix as you roll your hips sensually against his, making sure you feel every vein and twitch against your tight walls.

“Y’looked so beau- beautiful tonight. So pretty dressing up as me.” Toby gasps, running his hands across your thighs, up the sides of your waist as you dig your knees into the mattress. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that go directly to your clit as you lean forward, pressing your chest against his. Sweaty forehead meeting his, he leans up to meet your pitiful kiss, hips still pushing back as your clit rubs against his abs.

Surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth, pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole, slick glistening on his length, just to nudge yourself down again, relishing in that full feeling. 

Wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, he massages the plushness of your ass, smiling to himself when you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face into the crook of his neck. “More, Toby.”

“O- Okay…” He breathes, bending his knees to get a better angle, the divot of his cock pressing against that sweet spot and making you mewl. The weight of you on top of him is so satisfying.

Toby starts up a satisfyingly good pace, thrusts get deeper and deeper until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spill out of his mouth, he looks over and kisses your forehead gently, taking in every moan and whine you muffle into his neck. “Oh- hah! Yeah, yeah, yeah-”

Even if his body was exhausted, he couldn’t feel it. All he could tell was that your cunt was gripping him so hard his jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth as he fucked himself up into that sweet warmth. “So good- Oh, feels so good-”

“Oh god. Toby, right there-” You gasp out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the curve of his cock knocking that swollen sweet spot over and over, each thrust more prominent than the last. You bounce your ass back on him, meeting every thrust that he delivers so deep into the swell of your pussy, clit aching and throbbing as it rubs against his hard abs. “You’re so- doing so good, baby-” He huffs.

Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toby- I’m gonna-”

But then his thrusts halt, hands reaching further up your back to hold onto you tightly, sitting both you and him up as he crawls up onto his knees. He’s got your weight in his arms, cock still nestled so deeply inside of you as you wrap your limbs around him, leaning in to kiss along his jawline sticky with sweat.

He gives up thrusting now, hips rutting and grinding into you in a way that has you moaning deep and long, cunt throbbing with the ache for release. He’s in so deep- so full. 

Kissing against your rose cheeks, he looks at you with fucked-out eyes, trying his best to ride out the last of this moment as he feels his gut pool with warmth. His arms reach around your slender back to dig his nails into the unblemished skin, holding you as close as he physically could. It felt so perfect. Your hips grind back to meet Toby’s, thighs trembling as they cling to his hips. “Shit, [Y/N], I think yo- you were made for me.”

And then you’re capturing his lips, breathy moans as you feel him throb inside you.

“Close?” 

“Mhm…” He sighs, leaning down to kiss along your shoulder.

You grind your hips deeper, chasing that heavy feeling that builds in your gut, clinging onto whatever you can grab of his skin, brushing your hands up into his hair and pulling. “Hngh- Toby. Inside- ” You whimper, overstimulated, and your senses filled with only the brunette, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. “Oh, fu- fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna cum, my pretty girl- Hngh-” He moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well.

You feel Toby cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full body weight as he pants against your neck, slowly tugging himself from your gooey warmth.

As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his, kissing along your neck and up to the corner of your mouth. Eventually, he climbs off of your bed, searching your messy floor for his boxers, tossing you his t-shirt which you happily pull on. 

He fishes new panties from your dresser- quietly spazzing out at all the different colored bras and matching bottoms you had to choose from- and tugs on his own boxers.

Every movement after that is laced with exhaustion, tired, sticky bodies shuffling under the covers as you cling to his side, breathing in his smell like it’ll be the last time you do. He’ll make sure it’s not.

Flipping your lamp off, the only glow is from your TV, dim lights reflecting off of your still-rosy skin. He takes every moment to kiss along your cheeks, brushing your hair from your face, and cradling your body tight against him. He doesn’t really remember how you coaxed him into taking off the wrap on his hand- with the false promise that you would change the soiled bandages out tomorrow- but you do, unraveling the fabric until that horrific proxy symbol contrasted against his pale skin. A mark, a reminder of who he was returning to when the sun rose tomorrow.

He promised to let himself have tonight, but he knew that tonight wasn’t going to last forever.

But then you’re bringing his hand to your lips, placing a sweet, deep kiss right at the center of his palm. And he melts. He wasn’t lying when he said he thought you were made for him, the sour look on his face disappearing when he was cupping your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer to kiss against your skin.

You kissed against the scar on his cheek, soft lips on jagged flesh, and he knew.

You spend the rest of the night fishing stories from him, things he promised he would never tell, but find your reactions just too good at the mention of Masky and Tim. Your obsession seemed to run deeper than him, but he was your favorite.

-

Toby would have never felt the dip in the bed beside him, or the fingers that messed in his hair, but he did feel the fist that clenched onto his jaw much harder than you ever could’ve.

“Rise and shine, twitch.” Jeff, in all of his ugliness, sat on the edge of the bed, teasingly patting Toby’s cheeks. The brunette sat up, pushing the killer off of him and out of the bed, hoarse little chuckles erupting as he felt you stir next to him.

“How the fuck did you get here?”

“Front door, duh. You sent me your location last night, remember?” Toby noticed through your open bedroom door that your front door was swung wide open, the killer smiling with satisfaction, but his face slowly dropped when he saw you slowly sit up.

“Toby? Wha-” You see Jeff, Toby ready to reach out and clamp your mouth shut, prepping for a terrified scream. But then you’re sitting up, Jeff awkwardly glancing back and forth between you two as your lips part. “No way.”

Toby should’ve known better.

Because then you’re bombarding the killer, sitting on the edge of the bed, and studying every detail of his face, fangirling, of all things. Toby smiles, laughing to himself as you banter on and on about newsletters and obscure websites, Jeff casting you concerning looks as you recount his entire backstory. 

-

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Jeff finally pushes Toby to leave, barking about how he was supposed to have him back hours ago. The killer would never admit it, but they were only there that long because he enjoyed hearing someone harp on how good of a killer he was, complimenting him like he had always wanted.

Jeff’s already in the truck waiting as Toby kisses your face, kissing against your hands as fear courses him, fear that this will be the last time. But then you’re grabbing his phone, typing in your number, and sending yourself a text. A promise.

“For whenever you want to stop by ;)”

Followed by your address.

And then he’s back on the road, Jeff harping on and on about how ‘you weren’t that bad’ or ‘if Toby wasn’t careful he’d snatch you up.’ He couldn’t hear him though, too busy studying every detail of the photo you had sent him, the two of you smiling half-drunk in that elevator. It was already his wallpaper by the time they made it back to the mansion.

And he was already making plans on how he could sneak away tonight to come see you.

God, how he loved Halloween.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

Happy Halloween!

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[porcelian]

TRICKS, TREATS, & TOGETHER

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: going treat-or-treating with your boyfriend and his little brother ;

ANON ASKED: “ Idea: Jason and Reader take Damian trick-or-treating and get mistaken for as his parents. ”

WARNINGS: none ! ;

WORD COUNT: 0.7k ;

NOTES: i regret keeping up with the “” ..

── .✦ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

THE EARTHY SMELL OF PUMPKINS WAFTS IN THE AIR. The manor is covered in decorations, inspired by the festive season of fall and the ‘spooky’ feeling of Halloween, as Dick puts it. Small ghost and orange-white candy cut-outs hang from the ceiling, spiderwebs and pumpkins littering the floor.

Speaking of pumpkins, Jason’s hand is covered in it. Mandatory ‘pumpkin carving’ session, Steph said. He tries to grip the makeshift knife to finish carving the angry triangle eye of the pumpkin, but his efforts fall short again.

He was hesitant to join in on the festivities, but after you were invited, you practically dragged him over to the manor.

“Seriously, Jason?” Tim deadpans, looking over Jason’s poorly carved pumpkin.

“It looks so miserable,” Duke says, stifling a giggle.

Jason playfully grins as he flicks pieces of pumpkin at them. “Good to know my struggle is entertaining for you guys.”

You chuckle, the sound a sweet melody to his ears.

You were with Alfred, baking his signature desserts that everyone knows and loves. The sweet smell catches the attention of everyone near the table; Steph already looks ready to pounce for the first bite with Cass right behind her.

You walk in with a plate full of cookies, little ghosts painted on them with frosting. The silly faces remind Jason of his family's failed attempts at carving them.

Tim stands up, waltzing near the plate. “I’ll take this one. Looks like it’s calling my name.”

"Excuse me? I literally saw it first." Steph’s cheeks puff up.

“You saw it, but I claimed it. There's a difference.”

Before either of them can grab a bite, you sneakily hand one to Damian.

He stares at the offering before taking it in his hand.

“C’mon, taste it. It’s a special recipe that Alfred and I came up with.” You smile.

Damian takes a bite, pouting before a small smile forms on his face. “It is acceptable.”

“Told ya.”

A chorus of groans comes from the rest of the family. Jason chuckles as he moves closer to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your frame.

“Losing sucks, doesn’t it?”

“You lost too, Babybird,” Dick playfully rolls his eyes.

“That’s what you think.” You hand him the second cookie, which he bites into, looking all too satisfied.

“Halloween doesn’t seem all too bad,” Damian comments. “It is my first one, and I am satisfied with it.”

That catches your attention. “Your first Halloween? Have you ever gone trick-or-treating?”

“No, I have not.”

You turn to face Jason, an unspoken request hanging in the air. He looks at you, then at Damian, a soft smile forming on his lips. “Guess we’re going trick-or-treating, then.”

Damian looks at both of you, a faint hint of surprise in his eyes. “That seems rather childish.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh, ruffling his hair gently. “It’s all part of the experience. Besides, you’ll be with us. It’ll be fun.”

Jason smirks, wiping his hands clean of pumpkin bits. “I’ll get my jacket.”

*****

The three of you stroll through the streets of Gotham, the night alive with the chatter and laughter of kids dashing between houses. Damian, dressed as a mini vigilante—because, of course, he refused to wear anything else—keeps a straight face, but there’s a lightness in his step that betrays his excitement. Jason walks beside you, his hand finding yours, and you can’t help but grin at the relaxed atmosphere.

As you make your way from house to house, collecting candy in the little pumpkin bucket Damian insisted on carrying, a couple of neighbors smile warmly at the three of you.

“Such a cute family!” one older woman comments, handing out candy to Damian. “Enjoy the night with your little one.”

Both you and Jason freeze for a moment before bursting out laughing, much to Damian’s annoyance.

A faint pink blush covers Jason's cheeks, one you notice as you intertwine your fingers with his—a silent promise. Someone just referred to you and him as parents, as a family. The thought brings him a solace he didn’t think he could feel.

“We are not—” Damian starts, but you quickly pat his head.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll get you more candy,” you tease, winking at Jason.

“Should’ve brought the Batmobile stroller,” Jason adds, grinning as Damian glares up at him.

“Both of you are insufferable,” Damian mutters, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as the three of you continue your night.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[sashi-ya]

𝘗𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘔 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 "𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘐𝘖𝘋 𝘐𝘚 𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘌" one piece edition headcanons ⟢ law, zoro, ace & shanks

tw: mdni. suggestive language. pregnancy desires mentioned. cream pie implied. on a serious note, do not play this prank to your real life lovers, please. wait for a bleach and kaiju 8 version, too.

𝐋𝐀𝐖

No medical knowledge is enough for him to justify your lack of a period. Every possible cause stated at the same time inside his head, every cause but pregnancy… Completely in silence, that’s how he stayed the very first minutes after your told him. His cheeks lacked redness; his whole skin turned pale. Legs becoming weak, insides falling into a jail of anxiety.

A silence hug, that’s all he is able to do after who knows how many minutes. His nose buries on the crook of your neck, his hands fall slowly around your waist, hanging lifelessly into the small of your back… “I have no idea what is happening right now, but I promise I’ll be here forever…”

For a moment you wish that wasn’t just a prank but reality, just for a moment you stood there… quiet, kissing the crown of his head… You couldn’t laugh at that moment, not at all.

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

“Zoro, I’m late” . “Huh? Where to? hurry up!”. “With my period???!”. “Tell your period to hurry up, then”

Zoro has no idea. Too sleepy to understand anyway. You explain, in the most simple words you could find until he finally understood.

He stood up. Shook the sleepiness off and walked towards you. For the very first time, his katana were left on the floor; Wado Ichimonji stopped being important.

“You are lying. I smell blood on you. But since you want it so bad, then, let me make that period real, real, real late…”

The next thing you knew, it was him carrying you like a sack of potatoes on his muscular shoulder to the room. Oh, when the King of Hell says it’s time… you better be prepared… 🙊

𝐀𝐂𝐄

“WHAT? ME????? A FATHER?????”. “Most probably, I told you should use protection …”

“No, but you- YOU TOLD ME?  YOU- NEVER MIND I DON’T CARE. MARCO!! POPS! IZOU! I MUST CALL LUFFY!!! OI!!!” . “ACE, ACE!! STOP!”

Ace couldn’t hold the excitement. You were unsure if that prank would be a good thing to do… after all, Ace hated his own blood… however, that reaction took you off guard. He ran through the Moby Dick, with cheeks as full of freckles as red from happiness. Orange hat flowing with the wind of such huge ship, the sound of his boots echoing with his steps.

“ACE, IT WAS JUST A PRANK! STOP!”

He stopped. Black locks curling with the breeze of the main deck. “I guess it’s better that way… after all, I am sure that baby might run the same fa-“ Ace suddenly felt trap of his own past once again, but your arms surrounded his frame to stop it.

“Shut up, or I’ll rip those freckles off you! now, get me pregnant. Right now”

“If you ask it that way, then I have no other choice miss…”

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

“do have you any idea how many women have told me that before?”

“don’t be a prick, shanks…” you mutter, you were fuming. That prank seemed to only show how much of a womanizer this man really is.

He walked towards you; red hair, as the blood that runs through your veins and your heart pumps, playfully danced on his forehead. His intense eyes, fixed on yours, made you weak, unable to breath properly.

“I know it’s a prank, do you think I wouldn’t tell? You aren’t made for lying, love… I just wanted a little revenge, you shouldn’t make my heart stop that way… you know how much I want it to be true, (Name)?” he whispers, grabbing you from your chin.

Lips crashed against yours; you couldn’t argue, you couldn’t protest… that man rules over you, and if he wants you pregnant, then… he will make it happen.

[heavenbarnes]

need our simon to come home from deployment IMMEDIATELY 🫶🏼 | p1 p2 p3 p4

your older bf!simon comes home from deployment at dinner time on a tuesday.

herb alpert on the kitchen radio, knife tearing through a bunch of parsley, garlic and onion simmering on the stove behind you.

simon can hear it- smell it through the mail flap.

smells like home.

your ears prick at the sound of the door swinging open, the hinges alerting you to a secondary presence. back tensing for just a moment before you hear steps you could pick out in a lineup.

he sees your fluffy slippers first, then your little shorts, then his t-shirt. finally, he’s met with wide eyes and the kitchen light hits the curve of your face so nicely.

simon could cry.

you already were.

“oh my god, si”

he doesn’t really want to touch you with his outside clothes, tactical gear smelling like the back of a cargo plane and you’re so soft and lovely he’s afraid he might mess it all up.

but there’s nothing stopping the way you leap at him across the kitchen and swing your entire self around him and he’s forgetting what he’s wearing and he’s wrapping his arms around you like he knows you won’t break.

his tongue is immediately in your mouth and he’s taking one gasping breath and filling his nose with the scent that’s overwhelming him.

simon realises right then that the house smells like dinner but you smell like home. you are home. he’s home.

when he finally lets you let him go you’re telling him to leave all his gear by the washer and you’ll sort it all out tomorrow but right now he needs to sit down so you can feed him.

he’s back in the kitchen with a sweatshirt and shorts on and he’s never found his own clothes so comfortable. maybe it’s because he can smell you on the fabric.

you’d only been cooking enough for one but at this point, you’re so happy to have him home that you’re plating up the whole thing for him as he sits at the dining table.

his chair scrapes back along the floor and he’s patting his thigh, simon eats his tea with you curled up in his lap telling him everything he’d missed.

apparently, old-mate next door broke up with his missus and it was quite the scene.

apparently, they finally finished the roadworks on the junction at the end of your street and there was no longer a blur of orange cones on the drive to work.

apparently, there was going to be a barbecue at the house down the street and the two of you were invited. you might make a salad to take with.

you could’ve been reading him the phonebook and simon would be a happy man. his hand was holding under your thigh and your face was in the crook of his neck.

he was home.

dishes done (together) and tea steaming on the coffee table in front of him, simon isn’t sure this couch has ever been this plush. he could melt into it, as long as it was just like this.

bare feet up on the ottoman and one arm wrapped around your side as your head lay against his chest. you could hear his heartbeat and he could hear the football you’d recorded for him whilst he was away.

deployment was fucking rough, seen and done things he didn’t even want to think about. but this is what he comes home to.

you.

you who curls up in his lap and idly twirls the drawstring of his shorts round your finger.

you who offered up all of your food to him to fill the pit that’d been growing in his stomach over the weeks.

you who couldn’t give less of a fuck about the football on tv but watches in quiet contentment for the sake of being closer to him.

you who doesn’t ask once about what happened while he was away but will always listen without judgement if he needs to get something off his chest.

ideally, simon would like to give you the world in return. then again, he doesn’t think even that’d be enough.

instead, he takes you up to your shared bed and, miraculously, he doesn’t fall asleep as soon as his back touches the mattress.

he could, very easily, but instead he pulls you down on top of him and gets his lips back on yours. the kiss when he came through the door had been passionate but it’d been fleeting.

simon had kept it like that, knowing if he spent a second longer with your tongue on his then he’d have you over the kitchen bench and that wasn’t what he wanted.

really, he wanted this. the full weight of you on top of him and your hips rolling messily against his as his hands went up underneath your his shirt.

he wanted to run his fingertips along your bare back and feel skin so soft he almost couldn’t remember the things his hands had done just last week.

he wanted to map out every spot, every freckle, every ridge across your shoulders and commit it to memory so the next time he had to up and leave he could trace you like a constellation in the night sky.

truthfully, simon didn’t want to leave next time. he wanted to get the call from price and tell him that he was sorry but he couldn’t do it any longer. he now had something- someone to live for and he just couldn’t gamble odds like he used to.

he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still hold the sentiment on the other side of blowing a load so simon put those thoughts in the back of his head and decided he’d work them out on tomorrow morning’s run.

right now, simon felt the soft skin of the inside of your cheeks and your spit tastes like the nectar those gods harped on about and he’s pulling hard on your hips as he rolled something hard between them.

you were moaning, whimpering, whinging into his mouth while you ground yourself into the hard line of his cock. raging erection didn’t even cover it and his head was tipping back as a-

yawn, deep and all consuming broke from his throat.

simon was fucking knackered.

exactly what he didn’t want to happen was happening in front of him, you were sitting up and cooing at him so fucking sweetly.

“si, you’re exhausted- we’ll go to sleep”

strong grip around your waist was anchoring you to the spot so you couldn’t climb out of his lap like you were currently trying.

“sweet’art”

you could hear it in his voice, he couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. you conceded, however, letting him rub soft little circles into your hips.

“jus’ gimme’ one and then we’ll sleep”

laying back down against his chest, you felt the air woosh out of him as you relaxed your body on his. face fitting into the crook of his neck like you were made for him (you were) with a hand running along his collarbone.

“we’ve got tomorrow”

you knew it was futile, he was already slipping your shorts to the side. head tilting just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“and i need you tonight”

settled.

you felt one large hand lift you up as his other freed his cock out his shorts. just enough, just enough to get the job done because any extra effort was going to render him unconscious.

bringing a hand to his mouth, he spit in his palm quickly before rubbing it along the head of his cock. deep groan rumbled beneath you as you felt him pressing against your entrance.

“lift y’top up, sweet’art- wanna’ feel y’on me”

you did him one better, leaning up enough to slip the shirt over your head and onto the floor. forcing him to hold his arms up for just a second, you pulled his sweatshirt off and discarded it in the pile.

bare chest to chest, you could feel simon shudder beneath you. snaking one arm under his armpit and the other around his ribs, you snuggled in tight as you felt him slip right in.

that’s all he wanted.

weeks of photos, videos, imagination to go off of. this was all he ever wanted. you so close to him that it was entirely possible to imagine the two of you as one. that there was no version of reality without you together in it.

lazily rolling his hips up into you as you met him halfway, rolling yours back down to share half of the load. simon’s arms wrapped around your back, keeping you close and keeping you moving against him.

“sorry love, s’not gonna’ be a long one”

you could only respond with a whimper, gently nodding your head into his neck as your lips press soft little kisses into the skin. you didn’t need a long time, you just needed him.

unable to help yourself from noticing the couple new scratches he’d come home with, your fingers idly traced along them as he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

what you wouldn’t give to keep him home and keep him safe.

a thought for another day as you felt yourself constricting around his cock, grinding yourself into his lap as firm muscle rubbed against your front.

tiny little gasps flitted from your mouth and into his ear, you could feel his body tensing up beneath you. it wasn’t just with sheer tiredness, you knew this man like the back of your hand.

left hand coming out from under where you’d buried it behind his back, you ran the tips of your fingernails down simon’s chest. you stopped at his nipple, gently scraping along the peaked flesh until you heard him.

“need y’to cum right now f’me please”

slipping your other hand between the two of you, you let your fingers wander against yourself until you could feel the tide breaking in the pit of your stomach.

body clenching involuntarily, your mouth dropping open against his skin. no doubt drool pooling against his collarbone as you came with a pathetic whimper. hips bucking a little crazy in his lap as his hand ran the length of your back.

“god that’s it, sweet’art”

simon went rigid, gripping you tight like you might go somewhere as the dams broke and he filled you up. hot and sticky and dripping out of you and onto the waistband of his shorts.

he fell so still the only way you’d know he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. his arms were already starting to fall limp around you.

coming back from the bathroom, slipping off the rest of your clothes and adding them to the pile. simon wasn’t asleep, there were no snores, but he had been rendered totally immobile.

pulling the remainder of his clothes off for him and settling in beside, you pulled the sheets up over the both of you as his arm began drawing you in.

draped across him, you could feel his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“m’gonna’ rock y’world in the morning”

you snorted a little laugh, nuzzling in closer as his breathing starts to even out. no use in replying, snorings about the only answer you’re going to get.

not that you’d mind.

he was home.

[nvuy]

h.how do we feel .

“Uh… sorry ‘bout the mess. I’ll make it up to ya.” For good measure, the space cowboy kicks one of the corpses to the side with his boot.

You clutch your chest tighter, heart racing. “You just killed fifteen IPC soldiers in my bar.”

“Yep.”

“You–”

He suddenly looks offended. “Hey. I did the world a favour. I don’t take kindly to rats puttin’ their fudgin’ filthy hands on the merchandise.” He gestures to his torso. Then, he whistles, placing his thumbs on the waistband of his pants. “But, nice place ya got. This your business?”

Dazed, you nod slowly. Your eyes flit to the broken sign and the smashed television hanging over the bar counter.

The bottles are smashed to bits. There’s liquor spilled all over the floor—expensive liquor. This would cost a fortune to fix, let alone to then replace all of the products.

You exhale shakily. You try not to look at the bodies.

The cowboy pities you. You can see it on his face. He says nothing. He awkwardly clears his throat and skims the rim of his hat with his fingers.

This sucks.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll give ya the bounty money so you can fix this place up.”

“Will you pay for my therapy sessions as well?” you chime in, murmuring beneath your breath.

He cracks a smile. “If that’s what you want.”

You lean over the counter and place your head in your hands. Tiredly, you ask, “how much?”

You hear the cowboy click his tongue in thought. “‘Bout… seventy-five? Give or take?”

You look at him from between your fingers. “Huh? Seventy-five hundred?”

The cowboy, yet again, looks offended. “Million, hun. I don’t do my job for cheap. What do I look like to you?”

You squawked. “Seventy-five million?”

“You heard me.” He cocks his head to the side, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why? You like that?”

“You can’t give me seventy-five million credits. Are you serious?” You could feel your face burning in shock. Your hands slam onto the counter, and you point an accusing finger in his face. “You must run some sort of shady business.”

The cowboy looks to the left for a moment.

He blinks at you like you’re stupid.

“You’re serious?” you repeat.

Instead of answering, he pulls out his phone from his pocket. You say nothing about the flimsy orange case, instead watching as he fumbles and squints at the screen before turning it towards you.

He shows you the recent deposit.

As he said. Seventy-five million fat credits sit right there in his account.

Hesitantly, you grab the phone to peer closer. Curiously, you start scrolling. These deposits clearly weren’t new to him. There were so many starting back from about ten years ago. There was a recent one of two-hundred thousand, then another just crossing fifty-seven million–

You were going to pass out. You hand his phone back to him with trembling fingers.

“Seventy-five sound good, or ya want some more?” He was tapping away on the screen again. “Gimme your bank details.”

“No!” You shake your head. “I don’t need your money. It’s fine.”

“How ‘bout eighty?”

“I–”

“Eighty-five.”

“No, I–”

“Round it up.” He turns the phone to you again, this time waiting for you to take it. An empty prompt of a receiver for the credits waits still. “One hundred.”

“Stop. I’m not taking your money.”

“I insist,” was all he said. “Got plenty to dispose of. And was never too responsible wit’ it anyway. Also, don’t really need to spend money on food and stuff, ‘cause, y’know–” He gestures to himself again. “I trashed your place. Lemme help ya fix it up.”

“I’m not taking your money,” you repeat.

The cowboy narrows his eyes at you.

To retaliate, you narrow them back.

Then, grumpily, he states, “you’re stubborn.”

“Yeah.” You bristle defensively. “And?”

“I like it,” he all but purrs. He leans over the counter, fingers drumming over the bench. “If ya don’t want my money, how’z about I take ya out for dinner? To say sorry?”

Huh? You lean back, cowering away from the sharp teeth he displays behind pulled lips. Your heart races in your chest, half out of the anxiety that riddles your veins, but also because he’s practically snapping his teeth in your face like a shark.

Your hands coil into weak fists.

“What do ya think, pretty?”

You look at him.

You suppose he’s handsome—you’re not sure if it’s appropriate to call a cyborg handsome. But he’s got lovely hair, and it falls over his shoulders like water. It covers half his face, but the eye you can see is… trustworthy, to an extent.

He’s definitely not the most insane man you’ve ever met, so that’s a bonus. He also just killed a bunch of soldiers in your territory. You didn’t like the IPC either, and maybe he did do you a favour, but still.

You sigh. You think the pleading flutter of his lashes won you over.

“Fine.”

“That’s the spirit.” He holds out his hand, palm facing upwards. “Phone.”

Your face twists suspiciously. “No funny business.” Hesitantly, you reach into your pocket and hand it to him.

He grins and takes it. “Not at all. I’m a super trustworthy guy.” You find it hard to believe him. Again, he seems to have trouble navigating your phone. He notices you staring. “Sorry. Can’t read very well.”

“Oh.” You straighten up slightly. “Do you want me to add your number instead?”

He makes a face at the phone.

“Nope. I got it.” He hands you back your phone after a moment. The contact is still open on the screen: Boothill. He’s somehow taken a photo of himself without you noticing. “Might’ve added an extra zero. Oops.”

“Oh.” You stare down at the phone number. “There's no zeroes in your number.”

“Sure.” Boothill pulls back from the counter with a tip of his hat. “I gotta run. I’ll set up our lil’ dinner date later.”

You turn your phone off. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You got it, babe.” He blows you a kiss and waves his hand behind him.

As soon as the door shuts, you get a notification of a successful deposit into your bank account.

Your face immediately drains of blood as you frantically open up the app.

Seven-hundred and fifty million credits sit in your account.

The message attached to it reads, ‘Dont bot her snending it back. Wont work. LOL.’

[bi-writes]

can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!

mail-order bride

your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.

maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).

you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.

you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.

"hello?"

a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"

you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.

"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"

"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."

you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"

"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"

"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.

you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.

you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.

you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.

it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--

"'ello?"

"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"

"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"

"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"

"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"

"he's...b-but someone said surgery."

"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"

you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."

johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"

"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.

"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."

"mrs. riley?"

your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.

"you can see him now."

you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.

he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.

"tha' an angel?"

you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."

you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.

"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"

"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"

"shit happens."

you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.

"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"

"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.

"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."

simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.

"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.

"then don't."

he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.

"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.

family.

he has a family.

"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.

"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.

he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.

for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.

will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?

the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.

[acid-ixx]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.