#just felt like people keep taking and taking and taking and i dont expect anything back thats not who i am id rather give than receive

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Real Man"

Older Au Chapter 3.

THIS IS A MATURE STORY. IT HAS SOME SEXUAL SENCES, IF YOU DONT LIKE DON'T READ. Ok yall ik i said i was gonna post this last night but i hated it so i rewrote it! if it sucks don't say anything pls. sorry if it's repetitive, lmk whose team ur on!!! And what you want to happen next. comments, reblogs, likes and kind asks are always appreciated. If this one random anon keeps sending theses crazy things, i'll have to remove anon asks, which I dont want to do. I love my anons, so pls be nice. Send in asks, I miss yall, I've been sooooo busy with school lately and I havent had time to get on here. THIS IS MY 1ST TIME WRITNG ANYTHING LIKE THIS SO LMK HOW IT ISSSSS

WHY AM I GETTING THE FEWLINF EVERYONE HATES THIS??? IM ABT TO DELEYEB TS NGL 😭

Six months had passed since that night—the night you let Slade’s words sink into your skin like venom and made the choice that changed everything. For better and worse.

You hadn't accepted his offer easily. Not after what happened with Two-Face. That betrayal still sat in your chest like a dull ache, a constant reminder of how easily people could take what they wanted and leave you with nothing. You had sworn not to trust so easily again, not to let yourself fall into another cycle of being used and discarded. So when Slade made his offer, you hesitated.

"You're smarter than this," you had told yourself that night. "You know what happens when you trust the wrong person. You know what men like him want."

And yet, here you were. Living in his world.

Not as a prisoner, not as a puppet, but as something more. The lines were blurred, shifting with every glance, every order he gave that you didn’t question, every moment that stretched too long in the dim glow of your shared space. Because that’s what it was now, shared.

The apartment Slade had set up was far from a safe house. It was huge and spacious, Slade wasn't a cheap man. It felt lived in. Your things mingled with his, your scent lingering in the air. You bought vases and filled them with flowers, you organized the kitchen and bought him real groceries, not just canned food. You hung pictures you developed of you and him. Ones he didn't know you took. You roped him into painting your room a baby blue, a color he swore he hated, yet he still slept in your room every night. It was comical to see such a large man laying in a pastel colored room on your floral bedsheets, the last man you let into your bed was equally large. But we don't talk about him.

Slade cared for you deeply, or at least tolerated you. At first you were always at each others throats, each person throwing a more cutting remark than the other. When your arguements got so bad that you began to ignore him, he brought home women, made sure he heard them moaning through the walls till you snapped and began screaming.

You hated Slade Wilson

But after the first month things began to change, Slade never said anything about it, but you caught the way his eyes would darken when he returned from a mission, his gaze sweeping over you like he needed to confirm you were still here. Like he expected you to disappear.

You leaned against the counter, watching him from the corner of your eye as he cleaned his weapons. The rhythmic motion of his hands, the way he handled each blade with the kind of care most reserved for something fragile, it was almost mesmerizing. Everything he does is.

“You’re staring,” he said, not looking up. God, he's so smug.

You scoffed. "No, you are. I don't stare at creepy old men. In fact, it's usually the opposite."

His lips curled into that knowing smirk, the one that made something tighten in your chest. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

The nickname used to irritate you. Now, you weren’t sure what it did. All you knew was that it made your heart race the way only one person had before. He used to call you sweetheart too.

Slade’s presence in your life was suffocating, an unshakable force that wrapped itself around you, squeezing tighter with every passing day. He was cruel in the way he trained you, brutal in his expectations. If you failed, he had no patience for it. Slade trained you for greatness and he wouldn't tolerate anything less.

“You call that a punch?” he sneered one evening in your early days of training, after you had barely managed to land a hit on him. “Pathetic. I’ve seen senior citizens put up more of a fight,"

Gritting your teeth, you launched at him again, only for him to sidestep effortlessly. A sharp pain bloomed across your ribs as he shoved you down, hard. The thing that you loved and hated most about Slade was that he treated you like an equal. He didn't see you as his younger, fragile, kind-of girlfriend; he saw you as an equal opponent.

“You hesitated,” he said, standing over you. “That hesitation will get you killed.”

You spat blood onto the mat and glared up at him. “Or maybe I just don’t care if I live or die. Nothing is ever really this serious.”

Something flickered in his eye, dark and unreadable, before he crouched beside you. His fingers dug into your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He didn't understand your humor sometimes, considering he's old enough to be your father.

“Oh, but you do, you want to survive. To be great, ” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

He let go of you with a sharp shove and stood. “Get up. We’re not done.”

The tension between you both had only grown over the months. Slade had a way of pressing in, invading your space without ever needing to touch you. Sure you guys fucked almost twice, sometimes three times a week, but there was that small sliver of confusion and hesitation.

Sure, he slept in your bed ever night now, called it "our room," and sure you stayed up waiting when his missions would take too long. Yeah, you would run and jump into his open arms, feeling nothing but content as he kissed your forehead and took you to the bed, it's normal that ya'll didn't even have sex some nights, that you just cuddled.

Sometimes, you swore he was waiting, waiting for you to be the one to close that final inch between you. But you never did. You couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Instead, you fell into a rhythm. Training. Fighting. Learning with him and laughing with him. He pushed you harder than anyone ever had, demanding perfection, never letting you slip back into old habits. He didn’t coddle you like they did. He didn’t pretend you were something delicate. He made you strong.

Most nights, after an exhausting day of training, you would sit on the brown leather couch cuddled up to him with your head on his chest and his arms around you, the dim glow of the television flickering between you. Slade wasn’t much for small talk, you talked enough for the both of you, but the silence between you felt... comfortable, almost warm

“Why did you take me in?” you had asked once, voice barely above a whisper.

He had taken a slow sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving yours. “Because I saw something in you,” he finally answered. “Potential. Something you’re too afraid to admit to yourself.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you wondered if there was truth in his words. You liked that he believed in you, no one had done that before.

Then there were the other moments. The ones that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to acknowledge. The way he stood too close when showing you how to hold a blade properly, his breath warm against your skin. The way his hands lingered too long when correcting your stance. The way his gaze dropped to your lips before he forced himself to look away.

Neither of you ever acknowledged it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to. It's completely normal for your teacher/mentor/enemy to sleep in the same bed as you every night. It'd be weird if you didn't make breakfast and dinner for the two of you. It'd be weird if you didn't know his favorite foods and if he didn't know how to braid your hair. It'd be even weirder if he didn't make you coffee exactly how you like it and help you put away the dishes.

Slade had become an inescapable presence, his control over you extending far beyond training. He knew where you were at all times, had a way of appearing when you least expected it, his eyes always sharp, always knowing. Some nights, when you tried to slip out for air, you’d find him already outside, leaning against a wall as if he’d been waiting for you. He let you do what you wanted, think you were free, but he was always watching you.

If you were singing at a bar, you could count on him to be in the crowd. If you met with Selina at a restaurant you could count on him to drive you home. Slade was always there. Selina thought it was strange, you took comfort in it.

“You really think you can go anywhere without me knowing?” he had mused once, a shadow of amusement in his voice.

It should have bothered you. Maybe it did. But part of you had started to crave it, the way he made you feel like you belonged to him, even if neither of you would ever admit it.

Slade had been… watchful lately. More than usual. He came back late from missions, missions he didn't let you come to, sometimes with a tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. He was hesitant to let you go and preform at bars, sometimes convincing you to just play the songs on your guitar in the living room and run your fingers through his hair as you both laid on the couch.

There were the calls—brief, coded. You were offended, Slade told you almost everything these days but somehow no amount of sweet talk and bedroom eyes could get him to budge this time. And then there were the other things. The subtle shifts in the city’s underworld. More movement in Gotham than usual. The quiet whispers of old ghosts stirring, names you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. Bruce.

You saw it in the way certain streets had too many eyes. As if waiting. As if listening.

And then there was the whisper of something else. Something darker, something clawing at the edge of your awareness. A name that had once sent a thrill through you, now only bringing unease and resentment.

Harvey Dent.

A name you hadn’t spoken in months, yet it clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t shake. A man you couldn't bare to even think of. A drink left for you at a bar you hadn't performed at in weeks, a coat draped over the back of a chair that looked too familiar.

Slade noticed before you did. “You’ve got a ghost,” he murmured one evening, the flicker of a knife between his fingers. “One that doesn’t know how to stay buried.”

You didn’t ask him what he meant. You didn’t have to. You already knew. You just didn't know why. Had he finally seen through Tiffany, now that it was too late?

At first, you didn’t question it. Slade had always been territorial—watchful, overbearing when he wanted to be. He had a way of controlling things without seeming like he was. That was how he worked.

So when you first noticed the shifts, you didn’t react. Your schedule changed, but not because you changed it.

You used to go out when you wanted. Walk the streets when they were quiet, feel the Gotham night press against your skin, the air cold and sharp. Not anymore.

Things began to change this week. Now, every time you thought about leaving, something stopped you.

The fridge was always stocked, eliminating any reason to step outside. Your favorite food. Your favorite drinks. Little things appeared when you needed them; new clothes, supplies, anything that might have made you leave for even a moment. Things you mentioned only in passing, like the new lipstick you wanted or a pair of vintage heels or a new bag.

If you reached for your coat, Slade would speak before you even touched the door. Asking where you were going, trying to be casual.

It was never a command. Never outright control. But the implication was there. And every time you hesitated, he won. If you needed to leave or just wanted to go out, he would come with; a silent yet protective figure always in the shadows.

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that should have been peaceful but wasn’t. The apartment smelled like old wood and gun oil, the faintest trace of smoke lingering from Slade’s cigar earlier. You had just stepped out of the shower, skin still warm from the heat, hair damp as you walked barefoot across the floor in your towel.

Your hand brushed against the pretty golden door knob absentmindedly.

And then you froze. Something was different.

Your fingers curled around the lock, tracing over the new ridges, the reinforced structure. The weight of it felt wrong.

It wasn’t your lock. Not the cute one you insisted on buying at the antique shop that Slade hated. It didn't match the walls.

Your stomach twisted. You turned slowly, your damp hair clinging to your skin as your mind raced. This wasn’t an accident. You hadn’t imagined it. Slade had changed the locks. The thought sent something icy down your spine. Alarm bells blared in your mind.

You tried to shake it off, tried to tell yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was security. Maybe he just wanted better protection.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. Because he didn’t tell you. Because Slade never did anything without a purpose. Because Slade Wilson didn't need a lock to keep people out. And because you hadn’t noticed until now. You took a slow, steady breath and turned toward the living room.

Slade was there, like always, seated in his usual chair by the window, sharpening a knife. The sound of steel against whetstone was rhythmic, deliberate. His posture was relaxed, but you weren’t fooled. His fingers were too steady, his shoulders just a little too still.

He was waiting. Watching. Like he had already predicted this moment, like he was ready for an argeument. You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, heart pounding too fast, not caring if you were in a towel.

"Planning on keeping me in a cage?" you muttered.

Slade didn’t pause. Didn’t even look up. “Planning on keeping you alive.” The words were so smooth, so easy, that your stomach turned.

Your breath caught. Because he wasn’t hiding it. He wasn't denying it. Not anymore. This wasn’t a mistake. This was intentional.

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow in your throat. “Right. Because I’m just so incapable of keeping myself safe. Even after all the training we've done. Even with my literal super-human abilities.”

Slade finally looked up. His eye locked onto yours.

There was no humor in his gaze. No smirk, like he usually had on while teasing. Just that slow, assessing stare that made your pulse stutter.

"If I thought you were capable of that," he murmured, voice quiet, too quiet, "we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Your chest tightened. Because the way he said it sent something sinking into the pit of your stomach. This wasn’t just about protecting you. This was about making sure you never left.

Two days later, you decided to test it. Just to see what would happen. Slade had stepped out—or so he wanted you to believe. The moment you heard the door shut behind him, you moved.

Your fingers curled around the knob.

Turned it— but a large, scared hand beat you two it

"Going somewhere?"

Your entire body locked up. You gulped and licked your suddenly dry lips, he had you cornered with one hand on the knob and the other caging you in as he towered over you. His voice was smooth, calm—too calm. You turned slowly, pulse thrumming in your throat. Slade stood right behind you.

The door was still closed.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard him come back. Hadn’t even realized he was there. So much for super hearing. Nothing worked on Slade Wilson. You kept your expression neutral. Didn’t let him see the panic creeping up your throat.

"Didn’t realize I had a curfew," you muttered with an uneasy grin, trying to start your usual banter. Slade didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. Just watched you.

“You don’t.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. But he didn’t move. Didn’t step aside. Didn’t let you leave. The silence stretched too long.

Finally, you forced a smile, tilting your head. “Then I’ll be back in an hour.” Nothing changed in his expression. But you could feel the weight of his stare. Then he tilted his head, eye dark and calculating.

“It's not safe out there anymore. Not for you.”

You blinked. Something in his tone shifted.Not amusement. Not control. Something else. Something darker. Like he was waiting for you to figure it out.

Your stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t even move.

Just let the question hang in the air, stretching the silence tight between you. And that’s when it hit you.

He wasn’t stopping you because he was afraid you’d leave.

He was stopping you because something else was waiting outside.

Something he wasn’t telling you about.

Your mouth went dry. Slade finally let out a slow, amused breath, pushing off the wall.

And then—

He stepped aside. A challenge. Daring you to open the door. You hesitated. And that was all it took.

The moment you hesitated, you lost. Slade smirked, shaking his head like he had already predicted every move you would make. "Let's get to bed." He rasped out, looking at you with dark, seductive eyes.

And then he turned, walking past you like the conversation was over. Because it was. Because he knew you wouldn’t leave now.

The next morning, the locks changed again. The windows were reinforced. Your pretty pink curtains replaced with black shutters. Your phone stopped working. You couldn't call Selina. Every excuse to leave was removed before you could even think about it. You tried not to panic. Tried not to question it.

But Slade was closing the walls in. And you weren’t sure if it was to keep someone out—

Or to keep you in.

The first time, you thought it was a coincidence.

You had slipped into a bar down the street, needing to breathe, needing something normal.

The moment you stepped in, your stomach turned. Something familiar. Cologne. Not just any cologne. Expensive. Sharply tailored. The scent of whiskey and authority.

You froze.

Your mind screamed at you. It’s just someone else wearing it. It’s just your imagination. And then you saw it. A glass at the bar. Untouched. Neat. No ice. A double pour. your breath hitched.

Harvey’s drink.

It wasn’t until you came home that you truly realized. Because that’s when you saw the rose.

A single red rose on the kitchen counter.

Waiting for you. Your entire body went cold. It wasn’t from Slade. It couldn’t be from Slade. Slade would never bring you roses, he wasn't a gentleman. And he knew you liked hydrangeas and peonies now.

You turned slowly and nearly threw up.

Slade was already standing there. Watching. Waiting. His jaw was tight. His fingers twitched at his side. He didn’t say anything. And that’s when you knew,

He had seen this coming.

“Where did that come from?” you asked, voice thin. Why was he doing this? Was shattering your heart not enough? Did he want to ruin things with you and Slade?

Slade didn’t answer. Instead, he walked forward, plucked the rose from the counter, and rolled it between his fingers. Slowly. Deliberately. Then, he crushed it.

Your stomach dropped. The petals crumbled to the floor. His voice was dangerously calm. "You tell me, sweetheart."

For the rest of the night, he didn’t let you out of his sight. Not directly holding you hostage, but you felt it. The way he lingered in doorways. The way his hand ghosted too close when you passed him.

Like he was waiting. Waiting for you to ask. Waiting for you to figure it out. Waiting for Harvey to stop playing games and make a real move.

You weren’t sure when it had happened; when you had stopped keeping track of time, stopped caring about the difference between one night and the next. Slade made sure you had no reason to count the days. He made sure you had no reason to want anything. You woke up every morning in his arms and went to bed satisfied and well loved. It wasn’t a prison but it wasn’t freedom either. It was something in between. A limbo of his design. A small slice of heaven in hell.

You were happy. But something was off, Slade was being more paranoid and he got less subtle about it each day.

You weren’t trapped, not physically. Slade let you leave the apartment. You weren’t chained to the walls, weren’t locked in a room. He took you out on missions, let you get your hands dirty alongside him, let you breathe in the crisp Gotham air under the cover of night. In some ways, those nights were the only times you felt alive, other than when you were with Slade. The weight of a blade in your hand, the burn in your muscles from the chase, the sharp adrenaline rush of the fight, of using your powers on someone they affected; it reminded you that you still existed outside of this quiet game he played with you. Because that’s what it was. A game.

Slade never said it outright, never told you he was keeping you on a leash, but you could feel it tightening with every passing week. At first, it was small things. The way he subtly redirected missions away from Gotham’s city center, keeping you to the outskirts, where the shadows were deeper and the chances of running into familiar faces were slimmer. The way he always made sure you stayed close during a job, always just within arm’s reach. It wasn’t just protection. You knew better than that. It was control. He was testing you, waiting to see if you would try to slip away, if you would give him a reason to remind you just how easily he could pull you back.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the real test wasn’t in the field. It was what happened after.

After the job was done, after the adrenaline had settled into exhaustion, after the long, banter filled walk back to wherever Slade had decided to keep you that night. It was in the way he never let you wander too far. The way his hand would hover at the small of your back without quite touching, guiding you down the streets like he was the one who decided where you went. It was in the way he never left you alone for too long.

At first, you told yourself it was coincidence. Slade was always working, always had something that needed his attention. But then you started to notice the patterns. You ate together, you slept together, trained together, hell; you even showered together. You were never alone for more than a few hours. If he had business elsewhere, you were given something to occupy your time—training, surveillance, a task that kept you exactly where he wanted you.

You tested it once again, just to see what would happen. After he had left for what you thought was a routine meeting, you had grabbed your coat and made your way to the door. You weren’t even thinking about leaving him, not really. You just wanted to see if you could. If there was still a part of you that could step outside without feeling the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your fingers had just curled around the doorknob when you heard his voice. Low. Even. Inevitable.

“Going somewhere?”

You were getting de ja vu. This happened last time too. You had swallowed hard, pulse spiking in your throat as you turned. He was standing right behind you.

You hadn’t heard the door open. Hadn’t heard his footsteps. He was just there, watching, waiting. The worst part was that he wasn’t even angry. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you, wasn’t raising his voice or blocking your way. He didn’t have to.

Slade had simply leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eye scanning you with that sharp, unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. “Didn’t realize I needed permission,” you had said, forcing your voice to stay steady. You wouldn't let him control everything, not another man would be in charge of your life.

“You don’t.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he had already solved. “Just wondering if you really think it’s safe out there.”

Not this odd shit again.

That made you pause. The way he said it. Not like a threat. Not like he was trying to scare you into staying. He said it the same way as last time. Like he already knew something you didn’t.

Your grip on the doorknob tightened. “What are you talking about? You said this last time.”

Slade didn’t answer right away. He just let the silence stretch, let you feel the weight of your own hesitation. Then, slowly, he took a step back. Another challenge.

“If you want to go,” he said, gesturing toward the door, “go.”

Your breath caught. You should have. You should have walked out.

But you didn’t.

Because you knew that if you did, if you stepped outside now, you wouldn’t just be walking into Gotham. You would be walking into something else. Something waiting.

Slade knew it. And now, so did you.

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the door. Slade huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head like you had just proven his point. Then, without another word, he walked past you and disappeared into the other room. That was the moment you knew, whatever was waiting for you out there was worse than what was waiting inside. You just didn’t know what it was yet.

You found out a week later. A part of it, at least.

The envelope was waiting for you when you returned from a job with Slade, slipped under the apartment door like a whisper of something you had tried to forget. You had bent down, fingers hesitating just for a second before picking it up. The paper was thick, expensive. No return address. No markings. But you didn’t have to open it to know who it was from. The sharp smell of cologne gave it away.

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in the back of your throat as you tore it open, your hands gripping the edges a little too tightly. The letter inside was simple. Only four words.

You won't forget me.

Your breath hitched. Your hands trembled. Because the worst part was, he was right. No matter how much Slade consumed you, or your occasional fantasy about Clark; he also stayed on your mind

You barely had time to process it before you heard the apartment door shut behind you. Your fingers snapped the letter closed, chest tightening, but it was too late.

Slade had already seen.

His expression didn’t change, but you could feel it. The shift in the air. The way his shoulders set just a little too still, the way his single eye flickered from your face to the envelope with something dark and unreadable. He stepped forward, not rushing, just closing the distance between you with the kind of inevitability that made your breath come short.

You turned, but before you could move, his hand shot out. Not rough, not gentle like usual, just firm. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting you in place.

“Let go,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t.

Instead, he reached for the letter.

You pulled back.

Slade’s grip tightened. “Let me see,” he said, his voice low, controlled. He wasn't used to you denying him these days, not when you loved him.

Your stomach clenched. You didn’t let go, but it didn’t matter. Because Slade never asked twice.

With one sharp tug, he tore the letter from your grasp, unfolding it with a lazy flick of his wrist. You watched as his eye scanned the words, his jaw tensing, his fingers tightening around the paper just slightly.

Then, finally, a quiet chuckle. A dark, amused sound. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Your breath hitched. Slade looked at you now. Expression unreadable.

“Do you miss him?” Your heart stopped. You denied it, but you could see in Slade's eyes that he didn't believe you. In the way he turned away from you that night. You didn't blame him, you didn't even believe yourself.

Harvey always knew how to play the long game.

Small things began to shift in your life and you knew who was behind it. The song on the radio. A scarf. A photo photo. They were never coincidences, he didn’t believe in coincidence. The man was calculated, meticulous in his pursuits. When he wanted something, he played patient, steady, unyielding, watching from the shadows, striking when you least expected it.

Slade was the same way, but Slade never needed patience. Slade took what he wanted. Harvey waited for it to come back to him.

The jazz playing in the bar was nothing, just white noise in the background while you sat beside Slade, nursing your drink, your head still fogged from the last mission. You weren’t thinking of anything other than how good it felt to finally sit still.

Then, days later, the scarf appeared. Neatly folded on the couch, like a gift wrapped in silence, waiting for you to pick it up. You hadn’t touched it at first, just stood there, staring at it, fingers twitching at your sides. It was a trick of the mind, an old memory manifesting in a way that didn’t make sense.

Except it wasn’t.

He had been here. Or close enough to touch. You should have told Slade. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And then, the photo. A photo Selina took of you and him dancing at the Pink Pony Club. It smelled like him too.

That was what shattered the illusion of security, the idea that you had control over this. The moment you saw it, you knew.

Harvey had always been a sentimentalist, clinging to memories long past, treasuring things most people would discard.

You, once upon a time, had been one of those things. And now? You weren’t sure. You weren't sure what he wanted, especially since he had Tiffany. You had placed the photo down carefully, afraid to crumple it, afraid to acknowledge what it meant.

You had kept your movements neutral, your breath steady, but Slade had been watching. His presence in the other room was a solid weight pressing into your chest. The shuffle of files, the slow deliberate sound of metal being set down, he was waiting.

He had noticed. Of course, he had. Slade noticed everything. And yet, he didn’t say a word.

You lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, feeling Slade’s presence next to you like a silent storm waiting to break. He wasn’t asking. He was waiting for you to give yourself away. To tell him the truth, to trust him like he trusted you.

Slade had been watching you too closely, keeping his invisible leash tight without ever pulling. That was the way he worked, he let you think you had freedom while keeping you within his reach. If you had tried to leave through the door, he would have known.

So, you didn’t.

You waited, feigned sleep, forced your breathing into something slow, even, something convincing. You heard him move in the other room, heard the creak of his chair, the slow inhale of a cigar.

You moved the moment he shifted. Window, not the door. Silent steps. A fire escape that groaned beneath your weight. By the time Slade glanced back toward the couch, you were already gone.

Harvey knew you would come.

You knew that from the moment you stepped onto the rooftop, the Gotham skyline stretched out behind him like a kingdom.

He turned before you could say anything, a slow, easy movement, his face shadowed beneath the dim glow of the streetlights. And then, he smiled. Not a smirk. Not the sharp, dangerous grin you had been expecting. It was something softer. Something more desperate. Like a man in the desert coming across a well.

“Took you long enough, didn't think you got my message. I started thinking that maybe the note didn't reach you.” he murmured. The message he left in the women's bathroom at a bar you and Slade frequented.

Your throat felt tight. You felt hurt all over again. Like someone reopened the wound of his betrayal. Like the same broken girl Slade took in six months ago. You came here for closure. So that it wouldn't hurt when you said his name or sang the songs you wrote for him. “How did you find me?”

What did he want? To torture you? Rub salt in your wounds?

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I never lost you.”

Only Slade called you that now. The words made your stomach twist, a cold knot settling in your chest. You should have walked away then. But you didn’t. Because you had to know.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you haunting me? Not letting me move on?” Your voice shook as you said it. This conversation was long overdue.

Harvey’s fingers gripped the railing, his knuckles white. “Because I need you to listen to me. Just once. Just this once. Hear me out.”

Your heart hammered. Hear him out? He could've started with an apology.

“You think I’ll forgive you?” you spat. You would, because when you looked at him, you still felt the same warmth you did all those months ago; only this time it was mixed with resentment and longing.

He flinched. And for the first time, you saw it—the raw, desperate emotion that he had always hidden behind sharp words and confident grins. The mask cracked, just for a second.

His voice turned rough, unsteady. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know that. But I need you to hear me out.”

You shook your head, stepping back, but he reached out—not touching, not yet, but close.

“You don’t know what’s happening,” he continued, his voice dropping into something urgent, pleading. “Your family—Tim, Dick, all of them—they’re figuring it out. They’re finding out the truth about Tiffany. They'll realize what she's doing, like I did.They'll know soon, maybe not today or tomorrow; but soon. They'll realize she's been using her powers on them like she did to me.”

Your breath came too short. No. This was not happening. Not when you were finally happy again. Not when you think you've fallen in love with Slade.

“No,” you whispered.

Your vision blurred. It was happening. Everything you had tried to scream about for years, everything they had ignored, it was going to come to light. Harvey’s fingers brushed your wrist.

Soft. Careful. Like he was trying not to scare you away.

“And when they realize what they did to you,” he murmured, “they’re going to come running. Crawling back like I am.”

Your stomach twisted.

“They’re going to act like they care,” he continued, voice soft, insidious. “Like they’re sorry. But they’re not. Not like I am. You know that, don’t you?”

Your lips parted. You hated how much sense it made. Hated how deep the doubt had already burrowed into your skin. Hated how genuine and honest he was being, you could sense it. Harvey tilted his head.

And then, voice lower, almost fragile he said, “You don’t have to go back to them.”

Your stomach dropped. You stepped back. “I’m not going back,” you said, voice shaking. Never.

Harvey swallowed hard. And for a moment, you thought he might break, that the weight of what he had done, what he had lost, might finally crush him. But then, he looked at you.

And you saw it, the shift. The danger. Not Two-Face. Not the cold, calculated criminal.

Just Harvey Dent. The man who never let go. “You think you’re free?” he murmured.

The words sent a chill down your spine. Harvey smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “You think he just let you leave?”

Your chest tightened. You tried not to show the flicker of doubt, the small crack in your resolve. But Harvey saw it.

And then, voice so soft, so dangerous—“He’s not going to let you go either. He'll keep you locked up. I won't.”

You should have never gone to him.

You had known it was a mistake the second you saw him standing there, leaning against the rooftop railing, the glow of Gotham’s skyline making him look almost human.

But you had gone anyway. Because Harvey had always been a mistake you kept making.

You clenched your fists, how dare he talk about Slade? What right did he have to tell you who to trust. "Yeah and I'm gonna take advice from you. That's rich."

He softened immediately, his regret and remorse so obvious; yet he refused to apologize. You wanted to hit him, hurt him like he hurt you; yet when he stood in front of you in the moonlight, your treacherous heart still beat for him. Your heart didn't want to hurt the man who showed you what love is. The man who picked up the shattered pieces your family and Clark left and rearranged them beautifully. It didn't care that he broke them again; he could fix it.

“I made a mistake. I paid for it, I know the truth now.” He said steadily stepping closer, sensing your reluctance.

Your pulse pounded. “What do you want from me?” You were here for answers, not to rekindle an old flame. Not when you were starting one.

Harvey exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Nothing from you. ”

The words hit you too hard. You understood what he was implying, what he wanted. You knew he would come crawling back someday, you just didn't expect it so soon

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Why?”

His smile faltered. His hands curled around the railing, gripping it like he needed something solid to hold on to.

"You know why. But that's not what i called you for. I called you to warn you about your family and Tiffany,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher. More desperate. “I can throw them off for a little while, lead them off track and make sure they don't know the truth. If that's what you want. But once they know the truth, they won't leave you alone. Certainly not with him.”

You hated the way your chest tightened with affection at his consideration. You hated that you were here. You hated that he still had a hold on you. You hated how he talked about Slade. You hated hearing him say Tiffany's name, it brought back so much hurt and hatred.

“I don't care about them Keep them away for as long as you want. You know I'm not here to hear about them or your whore.” you said viciously, your eyes shining and your teeth sharpening.

Slade would be proud.

Harvey didn't react to your fangs, he wasn't afraid of you. He came closer and grasped your hand, his eyes so heartbroken that it gave you satisfaction, only for a minute.

His voice cracked slightly. “Nothing I do or say can make up for what I did.” His jaw tightened. “I know that.”

You should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because Harvey’s voice dropped lower, his words curling around you like a trap you should have seen coming. “But I need you to know something,” he whispered.

You swallowed hard. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, watching your reaction. “She wanted to be you, she tried so hard.”

Your breath hitched. You knew this. But hearing Harvey say it made you feel so much better.

Harvey’s voice was soft, almost reverent. “But she never could.”

Your stomach dropped. Why did this have to happen now? Why now when you finally forgot about him?

“She dressed like you,” he continued. “Talked like you. Watched the way you moved. The way you laughed.” His voice hardened. “The way you loved.”

You shook your head, backing away. You couldn't take this anymore. You wanted to run back into Slade's arms, where nothing could touch you. “Shut up.”

Harvey didn’t.

“She wanted to take everything from you.” His expression twisted. “And maybe, if I had been a different man, I would have let her.”

Your skin crawled at the thought. Harvey let out a breathless laugh, bitter and sharp. “But I couldn’t. I had to go digging, looking for clues.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Because she wasn’t you. No matter how hard she tried to be. No matter how much she played with my mind, she could never replace you.”

You hated him.

You hated that you believed him.

You hated how you still loved him.

Harvey exhaled sharply, tilting his head, watching you with something frighteningly raw. “Every time she touched me, every time she tried to take something that wasn’t hers—” his voice dropped into something dangerous, low and dark and broken— “I was thinking of you.”

Your breathing came too fast.

Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her,” he whispered, “I wanted it to be you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Stop. I don't care.” Lies.

“She wasn’t you,” he repeated, voice almost pleading. “She never could be.”

Your throat closed. Your eyes watered and your teeth burned with unshed venom just thinking of his betrayal. Why was this happening.

Harvey’s fingers ghosted over your wrist. Not touching, not quite.

“I never wanted her, not really” he murmured. “Not once.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. This was all you wanted to hear, all you wished for for so long. So why did you feel trapped. Harvey’s voice dropped even lower. He moved even closer

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“If you don’t care,” he whispered, eyes burning, “why are you still here? Why do you want answers so bad? Why do you still look at me like that?”

You shouldn’t have come.

But you hadn’t been able to help yourself.

Because Harvey always knew what to say, how to linger in your mind like an open wound that refused to heal.

And now here you were, standing under the dim glow of the rooftop’s city lights, your eyes watering, the weight of his gaze pressing into you, sinking into your bones like something familiar, something dangerous.

You forced yourself to keep your stance steady, your pulse even. “You don’t get to ask me those questions.”

Harvey let out a breath, almost a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His hands curled around the railing as he moved away from you again, gripping the cold metal like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for you.

“Do you know how many times I told myself you were gone? That I lost you, ” His voice was steady now, but there was an edge to it—something dangerous. “How many times I tried to let you go, to let you move on?”

Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if it was anger or something else, something more dangerous. “I didn’t ask you to wait for me. I didn't want you to regret your choice. I didn't want anything but happiness for you. No matter how much you hurt me.”

Harvey’s fingers twitched.

“No.” His lips pressed together in a thin line, he knew the truth, that you always wished the best for him. “No, you didn’t.”

The wind curled between you, cold and sharp, carrying the weight of everything unsaid. You should have turned away. Should have walked back the way you came.

But then Harvey laughed, a bitter, broken sound.

“She used her little snake charm but somehow,” he continued, “after a week I was thinking of you. I never loved her. Couldn't even bring myself to like her, honestly.”

Your stomach dropped. It was a gut punch, sharp and unforgiving. He saw it—the flicker of emotion in your face, the tightening of your jaw, the way your breathing caught for just a second too long.

And Harvey, Two-Face, the man who never let go, moved forward, voice soft, eyes burning.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I never stopped loving you”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “Shut up.”

He ignored you. Again.

“I love you so much,” he said, voice low. “You love me too or you wouldn't be here.”

“I said shut up.” He was right, he always is.

Harvey smirked, but there was nothing victorious in it. It was almost self-loathing.

“I never loved her,” he whispered again. He was making sure you knew.

“She wanted me to,” he continued. “She wanted to take everything from you.” His jaw tightened. “And maybe, if you had been a different woman, I would have let her.”

The thought of it made your skin crawl.

Harvey, Tiffany. Together. The ultimate betrayal.

“But I couldn’t.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because she wasn’t you.”

He kept repeating it, trying to speak his remorse into your heart directly. You hated how much it affected you. Hated how your chest ached, how your mind burned with the thought of what could have been. You shouldn’t care. But you did. And Harvey knew it.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, forcing steel into your voice. “You used her, just like she used you. You wanted to spy on Bruce and I wouldn't do it.”

Harvey let out a sharp breath. “Yeah.” His eyes met yours. Unflinching. “I did.”

There was no shame in his voice. Just cold, simple truth. No regret anymore. He didn't regret using her, he regretted hurting you.

“But it wasn’t revenge, sweetheart,” he murmured, his Gotham accent slipping in the angrier he got. “It was survival. She had me under her little spell at first; when that stopped working, her little dream team made sure I never stepped outta line. Never came crawling back to you, never told anyone the truth. But I'm done with them now.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Harvey stepped closer.

“Every time I kissed her, every time I played along, I was thinking of you.” His voice dipped, lower, darker. More desperate. “Every time I called her by her name, I wanted to say yours.”

Your breathing came too fast. This wasn’t fair. Harvey was not supposed to be able to do this to you. Not anymore. He was supposed to be dead to you. He had killed himself in your mind the day he let himself be used, the day he betrayed you.

And yet—

Yet.

You couldn’t move.

Because deep down, a part of you knew—you had thought of him, too. When you weren't with Slade, Harvey consumed your thoughts.

Your stomach twisted as he stepped closer again. “You’re smart, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You always were. Choose carefully.”

You swallowed hard. This wasn't about your family anymore. This was about him and Slade.

“You don’t have to go back to them.” He repeated himself again trying to convince you. His words settled in your bones, heavy, unshakable.

You clenched your jaw again. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Harvey’s eyes flickered, something dark and pleased curling at the edges. And then, voice low, almost dangerous, “Then why are you still with him?”

Your breath hitched. Slade. Your body went rigid.

Harvey took another step closer. Your noses almost touched and you nearly threw yourself into his arms.

“You think he's better than me?”

Your chest tightened. Doubt crept in. You had been so careful. So quiet. Hadn’t you? Harvey saw it. And he smiled.

A slow, knowing smirk. “He’s not going to let you go, he won't give you a choice. I don't blame the man, if I hadn't fucked everything up; I wouldn't let you go either.”

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you all at once, suffocating, crushing. You hadn’t been careful. You had been playing into Slade’s hands all along.

Because Slade always knew. And if he hadn’t stopped you?

That meant he was letting you dig your own grave. A shiver ran through you.

The moment Harvey’s voice dipped, the second his fingers ghosted over your wrist like a lover’s touch—you should have walked away. But you didn’t. Because part of you needed to hear him say it. Needed to hear him tell you what you already knew.

That he still wanted you. That he never stopped. That you were never meant to be replaced. And it felt amazing to hear the regret in his voice and see the pure longing in his eyes.

The wind curled between you, cold and biting, but Harvey’s presence was stiflingly warm. He was watching you the way he always had; like you belonged to him, like the months between you hadn’t changed a thing. And for the first time all night, you let yourself look at him.

Really look at him.

The scars on the left side of his face had deepened, his two-toned gaze more piercing than before. The weight he carried in his shoulders was heavier, more defined. He was still Harvey, but he wasn’t just Harvey anymore. He had become something darker, something rough around the edges, something broken in a way that made you feel like a piece of you had broken along with him.

You swallowed. “I have to go.” Before you did something you couldn't take back.

Harvey exhaled, slow and deliberate. He nodded, but he didn’t move. He didn’t stop you. But he wasn’t letting you go, either.

“You’re going back to him.” It wasn’t a question. A statement, like he knew it was coming

Your pulse stuttered. “It’s not like that and you know it.” You still felt the need to defend yourself, even though you knew you didn't owe him an explanation.

You still loved him, that much was clear.

Harvey let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Sure it isn’t.”

You took a step back. He didn’t reach for you, didn’t say anything to stop you, but his presence curled around you like a shadow, wrapping itself around your spine, keeping you anchored in place. And then his voice dropped. Low. Certain.

“I’m letting you walk away. But I'm not letting you go. Not when we still love each other.”

Your throat tightened. He wasn’t chasing you. Not yet. But you felt it. The promise in his voice. The inevitability. You didn’t respond.

You didn't deny that you still loved him, it was like a child insisting they didn't eat cookies when they have crumbs all over them.

You just turned and forced yourself to walk away.

The apartment was silent when you returned. Slade was waiting, seated in his chair, drink in hand, legs spread, glaring at the walls. He didn’t turn when you entered. Didn’t move when you stepped further inside, carefully shutting the door behind you. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You slipped off your shoes, moving slowly, watching him, waiting. Nothing. No reaction. Just that unshakable stillness. The kind that had always been more dangerous than his anger.

You took a steadying breath. If you didn't speak first, he wouldn't speak at all. “Slade—”

“I knew you’d come back.”

His voice cut through the room, sharp and even. Your fingers curled at your sides. “Of course I came back.”

Now, he looked at you. Finally. And when he did, it felt like a blow. That single eye, cold and assessing, swept over you, taking in every detail, every movement, every breath you tried to keep steady. Then, his lips curved. Slow. Controlled.

“Did he tell you what you wanted to hear? Make you want to run into his loving arms again?”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t let it show. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Slade exhaled through his nose, the faintest huff of amusement. “Don’t insult me.”

Your jaw tightened. Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. You weren’t sure if you were waiting for him to snap, or if he was waiting for you to confess. Then, finally—Slade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, voice lowering into something dangerous.

“Tell me something,” he said lowly.

You didn’t move. “What?”

Slade tilted his head, watching you like he was already playing out the end of this game. “Did you hesitate?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You swallowed. You could lie. You could tell him what he wanted to hear. But it wouldn’t matter. Slade always knew. And that was the worst part.

Slade was quiet for too long. Then—he sighed. Tired. Expectant. And that was worse than anger. You hated when he treated you like this, so indifferent. You liked his anger better, at least then you could get a reaction out of him.

“Take off your coat,” he said. You hesitated. Slade’s expression didn’t shift. “Now.”

Slowly, carefully, you did as he asked, slipping the fabric from your shoulders, letting it drop onto the chair beside you. Slade’s eye flickered toward it. Then, back to you.

You weren’t sure what he was looking for. Maybe he was looking for something Harvey left behind. Something you didn’t even realize you had carried home with you.

Then, after a long pause—Slade smirked. And it wasn’t kind like the ones you've grown accustomed to.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?”

You stiffened. “Realize what?”

Slade leaned back again, completely relaxed. Like he had already won. “You'll know soon.”

Your breath caught. Where was he going with this? You hated when he spoke like some ancient being and he knew that. He was gonna be insufferable these next few days; he always is when you do something he doesn't like.

“Doesn’t matter where you go,” he continued, his voice so damn certain. His smirk widened, mocking. “You’ll always come back to me.”

Your chest tightened. You hated him. Because he was right. He knew you hated it, too.

You lay awake that night. Not because you couldn’t sleep. Not because Slade was in the other room, making you sleep alone for the first time in months, still awake, waiting, watching, knowing.

But because you couldn’t shake the way Harvey had looked at you before you left. Not angry. Not resentful. Just patient and remorseful. Like he already knew something you didn't.

Slade never brought it up again. Not directly. You weren’t sure if that was worse. You weren't sure if you wanted him to scream at you and demand you never see Harvey Dent again. You would rather anger than the silent treatment.

He didn’t demand answers. He didn’t press the issue. He simply carried on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t watched you walk through the door smelling like another man’s presence.

That should have been a relief. But it wasn’t. Because Slade didn’t let things go. He let them fester.

It was in the way he touched you now, more deliberate, more possessive. The way his hands lingered a little too long on your waist when he passed you in the kitchen, the way his fingers grazed your wrist, as if reminding you that you were still there, still his.

It was in the way he watched you. He had always been observant, but now it was different. Sharper. He wasn’t just looking at you, he was reading you.

Every twitch of your fingers. Every slight shift in your breathing. Every time you looked over your shoulder without realizing it. You had brought something back from that rooftop, and Slade knew it.

And still, he said nothing. Instead, he tightened his hold.

It was late. The apartment was quiet, but neither of you were asleep. Your back pressed into the cool sheets, heartbeat steady but too aware of the man beside you. It'd been three days since Harvey and Slade was finally sleeping next to you again, but you knew he wasn't truly letting things go.

Slade’s fingers traced slow circles against your wrist, his grip loose but present. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he murmured.

You exhaled, shifting slightly beneath his hold. “And you have?”

A quiet chuckle. “I sleep when I need to.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light of the bedroom. “And when do you need to?” You missed teasing him.

Slade’s smirk was lazy, knowing. “Whenever you’re not around to keep me entertained.”

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t let you pull away. His grip tightened, just enough to remind you he was there.

“You think too much,” he murmured, voice lower now. “Keeps you restless.”

“Maybe I like thinking,” you shot back booping his nose. You lived to annoy him, to push his buttons in a way only you could get away with.

Slade hummed, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow, still watching you. His fingers trailed down your arm, you would've though he was trying to start something if his movements weren't so slow and calculated.

“What are you thinking about now?” He said reeling you into his trap, his eyes hard. You hated when he tried to trap you. Your pulse skipped. Nothing you said would be the right answer.

Slade’s lips quirked up slightly, but there was something in his expression—something darker, something expectant.

“You can say it,” he mused. “Say his name.”

You were tempted to do it, moan Harvey's name just to piss him off, but that was a line even you knew not to cross. You rolled your eyes, "God, just let it go Slade. It wasn't important."

Why couldn't he just let this go? Slade smirked, mocking. “That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t break his gaze. Didn’t look away. Because he knew. He always knew. Nothing goes over Slade Wilson's head.

The next morning, you woke up to a message. Not a text. Not a voicemail. A gift.

The small wooden box sat on the kitchen counter, neat, precise. Like it had been waiting for you. Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t heard anyone come in. You hadn’t even felt him. But Harvey had been here. You swallowed, fingers brushing over the lid before carefully lifting it open.

Inside was a single playing card.

The Two of Hearts.

And beneath it—folded carefully, as if it was meant to be unwrapped like some kind of sentimental treasure—was the same scarf he had left before.

Except this time, there was something else. Perfume. Your perfume. It smelled like you and him. Like Harvey had held onto it. Like he had kept it close. Your stomach twisted.

Harvey had been here. And you hadn’t even noticed.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the box, breath coming a little too sharp, too shallow. The walls of the apartment felt smaller. You didn’t hear Slade approach, but you felt him before he spoke.

His voice was smooth, dangerous. “Something I should know about?”

You forced yourself to breathe. “No.”

Slade leaned against the counter, eyeing the box like he already knew exactly who it was from. And then—he laughed. A quiet, amused sound, as if this was a game he had already won. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” he said, in the same tone some used when regretting not buying a book before it sold out.

Your stomach dropped. Slade tilted his head, eye still locked on you. “But you wouldn’t have liked that, would you?”

You said nothing.

Slade smirked, shaking his head. “Soft spot for old flames.” He reached out, fingers brushing your wrist. “That’s your problem.”

You clenched your jaw, jerking your arm away. “And what’s yours?”

Slade’s gaze darkened. “I don’t have problems.”

You let out a breathless, humorless laugh. Always with the tough guy persona, honestly it must be tiring always acting untouchable. “Right. Sorry, I forgot. Because you don’t feel anything.”

Slade didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, unreadable. His hand reached for your jaw, firm, demanding. His thumb traced your cheek, slow, deliberate. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“I feel plenty.” You swallowed. Slade smirked. “You just don’t like what I feel.”

You stepped back before you could do something stupid. Something that would make you forget about the box on the counter, the scent of Harvey still lingering in the air. Something that would make you forget that you weren’t sure who you were more afraid of losing.

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Harvey was right. They were going to find out the full truth soon. And when they did, they would come for you.

Now, a week after your meeting with him, your phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Message after message, call after call, each one from Tim Drake-Wayne. All asking you questions about Tiffany, about yourself. About where you were.

Your breath caught in your throat as you scrolled through the texts, hands shaking, stomach twisting itself into knots so tight you thought you might be sick. Of course Tim was the first to figure out something was wrong. He was about five years too late though.

Tim: We need to talk. Please answer. I have questions. About Tiffany..

You could barely breathe. He wanted to investigate, to look deep into Tiffany. Now?

Now, after years of pushing you aside, after ignoring every cry for help, now he wanted to take your warnings seriously.

Your eyes burned, fingers tightening around the phone, your mind screaming at you to respond, to finally say all the things you’d held in your chest for too long.

But you didn’t. Instead, you turned the phone off. You shoved it under the pillow, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to push away the tears, trying to ignore the way your chest ached with something ugly and desperate.

The moment you walked out of the bedroom, you knew he had seen.

Slade was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, gaze heavy with something unreadable. The phone was still buzzing beneath the pillow in the other room, and somehow, you knew he had heard it.

He had been waiting for this. You swallowed, standing stiffly near the doorway, trying to pretend like everything was fine. Slade didn’t say anything at first. He just watched.

“Took him long enough,” he mused, his voice casual, controlled.

You rolled your eyes. He's been bitchy ever since the whole Harvey thing.

Slade’s eye flickered to your hands, still clenched at your sides. “And let me guess—you ignored him.”

You hated how easily he could see through you. You glared at him, jaw tight. “None of your business.”

Slade chuckled, shaking his head, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between you in slow, measured steps.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was lower now, smoother, curling around your spine like a threat disguised as affection. “Everything about you is my business.”

You tensed. Slade reached up, tracing a gloved finger along your cheek, tilting your chin up slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“He’ll keep calling,” he murmured. “He’ll keep begging. He'll figure it out and tell the rest of the little squad and they'll all come running back. Just like your dear old Dent. ” His lips curled into something mocking. “That’s what they do, isn’t it? Make mistakes because they know you'll forgive them?"

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Not to hurt you, just enough to remind you who was in control.

His thumb brushed over your lips, slow, deliberate. “What are you gonna do?”

Your breath hitched. Slade leaned in slightly, voice dropping even lower. Dangerous. “Do you want Tim to tell the others? Want your family back? Want him back? Even after he fucked your sister while you were lying sick in your bed?”

Your throat tightened. He was toying with you. Mocking you, trying to hurt you. Making you say it. And you didn’t want to say it. Because you didn’t know. Your family had been your world.For so long, all you wanted was to be seen.

To be loved.

To be something more than just a ghost standing in the background, watching them fawn over someone who had stolen everything from you. And Harvey gave that to you, before he betrayed you.

And now, he was sorry. Soon, they would all know the truth and be sorry.

The emotions clawed at your throat.

You wanted to scream at Tim. Tell him it was too late. Tell them that he could never fix this. No amount of investigating and apologies could make up for years of neglect.

But another part of you, the part that still ached for their love, the part that still wanted them to prove you wrong,

That part whispered, “What if?” What if when they found out the truth, they would love you? What if this time, they actually stayed?

What if this was your chance to finally have the family you always wanted?

The war inside your head made you dizzy. And Slade knew it. He was still holding you, still keeping you rooted to him, while your world spun out of control. After a long, suffocating silence, Slade finally sighed. “You’re a mess.”

You glared at him, pushing away from his grip. “Fuck you.”

Slade chuckled, unfazed. “You do it almost every night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "You're a child, you know that?"

You turned away, grabbing a glass from the counter, hands still shaking slightly as you filled it with water. You weren’t thirsty, but you needed something—anything—to keep yourself grounded.

Slade leaned against the counter again, watching you with amusement, but something deeper lurked beneath it. Then, in a voice so casual it almost didn’t register, “I’ll make him stop. I'll make them both stop.”

The glass almost slipped from your fingers. You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What?”

Slade shrugged, like it was nothing. “You don’t want to deal with them. You don’t want to make a decision. So I’ll make it for you.”

Your breath caught. Slade never dealt with things peacefully, he got rid of problems permanately. “You can’t just—”

“I can.” His smirk deepened. “And I will.”

Your stomach twisted. Because the worst part was; you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified. Because Slade was right. You didn’t want to make a choice. You wanted someone to do it for you.

And Slade was more than happy to take that burden.

The first thing you noticed the next morning was the silence. No more buzzing. No more messages lighting up your screen. Slade had done it.

He hadn’t waited for you to argue. Hadn’t given you the choice. By the time you checked your phone, every number had been blocked. Every contact erased like they had never existed at all.

And maybe that’s what Slade wanted.

For them to be nothing but ghosts in your past. A clean break. A fresh start. So why did it feel like your chest was splitting open?

You had spent years craving their attention. Years begging for even a scrap of love. And now? Now you had the chance to get it. And you ignored it. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t need them. That you had spent too long chasing something that was never meant to be yours.

And yet, as you stood in the quiet of the apartment, phone gripped too tight in your hands, you ached. Because you had wanted them to fight for you.

Slade had left that morning, his usual teasing smirk in place, but there had been something off.

Maybe it was the fact that his mission was dragging out longer than expected.

Maybe it was the way his fingers had lingered under your chin before he left, thumb brushing over your jaw like he was making sure you were still his.

Or maybe it was the way he had muttered, “Be good while I’m gone, sweetheart.” as you kissed him goodbye.

Like he already knew you wouldn’t be. Like he already knew something was coming. The apartment felt too big without him. His absence wasn’t something you should have noticed.

But you did.

It was in the empty space beside you when you sat on the couch. The extra portion of dinner you made out of habit. The lack of footsteps behind you. The missing weight of his presence pressing against your world, keeping you safe.

It was the first time in months you had been truly alone. So you did the only thing you could think of.

You took a nice, long, hot, shower, trying to dull the ache below your hips. You and Slade had sex last night, but somehow you were already wanting more. It was like your body could sense his absense.

You stood under the hot water, letting the steam curl around your skin, letting the heat scald away the thoughts clawing at your mind.

Maybe Slade was right. Maybe it was easier to just let go.

There was a sound. Soft. Distant. A creak where there shouldn’t be one. You wouldn't have heard it, wouldn't have sensed the body heat if you didn't have your powers. Your heart stopped. You turned off the water immediately, listening.

Nothing.

Maybe it was just—

Another creak. Closer this time. You swallowed, pulse hammering, every nerve in your body screaming at you that something was wrong. Slade was gone.

No one should be here. But you weren’t alone.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your damp skin, fangs reader and a knife in your hand, you felt him.

The shift in the air. The weight of someone watching. And then, his voice.

“Gotta admit,” Harvey mused, voice smooth, mocking, as if he had any right to be angry “didn’t think you’d be the type to shack up with a guy like him.”

Your stomach dropped. You turned sharply, eyes darting across the room, breath catching in your throat when you saw him.

Sitting on your bed. On Slade’s bed.

Harvey was leaning back against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other, looking far too comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like he wasn’t the intruder in this equation.

Harvey sat there like he hadn’t broken in, hadn’t shattered what little peace you had left. The moment you stepped out of the shower, still dripping, wrapped only in a towel, you knew, he was waiting for you.

Your fingers clenched around the towel’s edge, jaw tight, pulse pounding.

"You’ve got some fucking nerve," you muttered, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between you and him.

Harvey leaned back against the pillows, one arm draped lazily over the headboard, watching you with something smug, something knowing.

"Had to see you," he said simply. Like it was normal. Like it was nothing.

Your stomach twisted. It was never nothing with Harvey.

"And let me guess," you bit back. "You just let yourself in."

His smirk widened. "Door was unlocked, it’s not breaking and entering if you used to live together."

You let out a sharp laugh. "Bullshit. That’s exactly what it is, Dent. We don't like together anymore. Never did officially either."

Harvey didn’t flinch. Instead, his gaze slid lower. Over the damp strands of your hair. Over your throat. Your collarbone. Your bare legs.

You knew that look. It made something ugly stir inside you.

He looked at you, gaze slow, deliberate, taking in every inch of you. The damp strands of hair clinging to your skin. The way the towel barely covered enough to keep you decent.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t stop on my account. Nothing I haven't seen before.”

Your fingers clenched around the towel, pulse thundering. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Harvey let out a quiet chuckle, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Relax, sweetheart. Just thought I’d drop by. Say hello. You wouldn’t answer your phone, so I figured—” he spread his arms in mock innocence, “—why not pay a visit?”

You hated how calm he was. How easy he made it look. Like he hadn’t just broken into your home. Like he hadn't broken your heart. Your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, heart hammering against your ribs. Slade was gone. Gone.

No one was coming. But you could handle yourself. And Harvey knew it. His eyes flickered down your body again, this time slow, calculating. Looking at all the marks and love bites Slade had left the night before. “You always did have a thing for older men,” he mused.

Your jaw clenched. Low blow.

Harvey smirked. “What’s the matter? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Thought you could just run off and play house with Gotham’s favorite mercenary and I’d let it slide?” He tsked, almost disappointed. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart.”

You glared at him. Where did he get the audacity? “You don’t own me. Especially not now. Especially not after what you did. Your apology didn't change anything. You've got no right to be here.”

Harvey’s expression darkened, but only for a second. Then he grinned. “Funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking about him.”

Your stomach twisted. Because you knew what he was doing. He wanted you off balance. He wanted you to doubt. It was working. Because a part of you—a part you hated—was already wondering what Slade would do when he found out. Because he would find out. How jealous would he be? Would he finally drop the whole nonchalant act, ask you to be official?

Harvey’s smirk widened. “You think he’s coming back soon? You waiting for him? That's real cute princess.”

Your throat tightened. “He'll be back tomorrow.”

Harvey shrugged, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How missions can just drag out longer than expected?” His grin turned sharp. Cruel. “Would be a real shame if something happened to keep him… occupied.”

Your blood froze. Harvey watched you, waiting for the realization to sink in. He knew. He knew Slade wasn’t coming home anytime soon.

Your fingers curled into fists and suddenly you were on top of him, fangs bared, “What did you do?”

Harvey simply leaned back, enjoying himself and the view of your almost naked body on top of him. He turned his neck, as if trying to give you more access to him.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Now, now. Don’t go blaming me. I didn’t lift a finger.” His grin widened. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know who did.”

Your breath was coming too fast, too shallow, panic creeping up your spine. Slade was gone. Harvey was here. You were trapped. And Harvey knew it. Your pulse pounded. Slade was gone. Harvey was here.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pinning him down harder against the mattress, your fangs bared, breath coming in sharp, furious exhales.

"What did you do?" you hissed again, voice low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained rage.

Harvey smirked up at you, completely unbothered. His eyes gleamed with that same smug amusement, like he was playing with his food.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, voice infuriatingly smooth, teasing. "No need to get all worked up."

You pressed your thighs against his sides, pinning him harder. "Answer me, Harvey."

He let out a slow breath, his smirk twitching, dark amusement flickering across his features. "You always were so determined. I love that about you."

Your fingers tightened, nearly scratching his back, sharp acrylics pressing into his skin through the fabric of his white button down. You didn't want to hurt him, not badly at least.

"Tell me why Slade’s mission is taking so long," you demanded, your weight pressing down on him, your legs gripping him tighter.

Harvey’s hands moved then; sliding slowly up your thighs, gripping just hard enough to make your breath catch.

"You really think I’m gonna make this easy for you?" he murmured, voice dropping to something lower, something thicker with something he wasn’t bothering to hide.

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping down your spine, twisting through your limbs. He knew. He felt it.

His smirk widened, his hips shifting beneath you just slightly.

And that’s when you felt it.

Hard. Throbbing. Pressing against the thin fabric of his slacks, against the barely-there barrier of your towel. You nearly moaned, stop being a slut, you tried to tell yourself.

You froze, just for a second. And Harvey noticed.

You were straddling him, baring your venomous fangs. You could kill him. And he was hard. You could feel it, it was impossible not to, thick, twitching against your inner thigh, pressed right against you.

Your powers didn’t help. They never fucking did. The second you got close enough to feel body heat, it was over. It was a constant hum under your skin, that ache, that need, clawing at your sanity. Your towel barely clinging to your damp skin, the heat of his body seeping into yours, you didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

He let out a low, pleased chuckle, his good hand settling on your waist, just barely gripping. "Didn’t know you missed me this much, sweetheart. Thought you were over me?"

Your nails dug into his chest even harder, but he didn’t flinch. He never fucking did. "Tell me where Slade is," you demanded.

Harvey hummed, mocking. "You sure you wanna talk about him right now?" His fingers flexed against your skin, his smirk widening as he shifted slightly beneath you again. "Because from where I’m sitting, you got bigger problems."

Your breath hitched, and you hated it. Hated the way your traitorous body reacted to him. Hated the way he felt so familiar.

His gaze flickered, taking in the flush on your skin, the way your thighs squeezed involuntarily around him. He felt it too. The heat. The tension. The pull that never really disappeared, no matter how many times you had tried to convince yourself that you were done with him.

"You always were greedy," Harvey murmured, tilting his head, eyes dark with something wicked. He was loving this. "You just can’t get enough, can you?"

Suddenly, you were angry at him again. You remembered Tiffany. Your grip tightened around his wrists, holding him down, pressing harder into him, and his smirk twitched, just slightly.

Good. Let him fucking squirm. "You still think you have control here?" you whispered, lowering your head, your breath grazing the sharp line of his jaw.

His breathing faltered. Just for a second. Just enough.

Then, just as quickly, his lips curled again, sharp and taunting.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, voice deep, smug, full of sin. "As long as youre on top of me or under me, I don't give a shit who's in control."

Your entire body tensed. Your nails dragged down his chest, slow, teasing, right over his shirt. You could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath your fingertips, fast, erratic, out of sync with the smug bastard act he was putting on.

He was burning for you. Just as much as you were for him. But you weren’t going to give in.

"You still think you can do whatever you want to me?" you whispered, leaning in, letting your lips hover just over his.

Harvey’s eyes flickered. A muscle in his jaw ticked. And for the first time since he had shown up, his smirk finally fucking dropped.

You grinned. Then you moved your hips and ran your fingers up and down his chest.

Harvey cursed sharply through his teeth, his grip on your waist tightening instantly, fingers digging into your skin like a vice. His dick twitched against you through his slacks, so fucking hard and aching that you could almost feel the pulse of it.

You let out a slow, breathy chuckle. "Guess you do still want me, huh?"

Harvey’s breathing was uneven. "Careful," he rasped, voice lower, darker, more dangerous now. "You’re playing a real stupid game, princess."

"Why?" you taunted, grinded your hips again, watching the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to snap. "Because you can’t handle it? Because you can’t handle me?"

It was fun being in control. Slade never let you do whatever you wanted to him, barely ever in the bedroom. You loved control, especially when it meant having a man at your mercy beneath you.

Harvey’s eyes flashed. Then, he flipped you. Fast. Brutal.

You barely had time to react before you were the one beneath him , your towel barely hanging onto your body, his hand locked around your wrist, pinning you down, his body hovering over yours, pressing you into the mattress.

His breathing was hard, uneven, tense.

"You really think I don’t know what you’re doing?" he murmured, so close now.

Your chest heaved. You got too cocky, too confident, and now you were paying the price, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Harvey laughed softly, mocking, brushing his nose against yours. "Liar."

You swallowed, pulse hammering.

"You love this," he said, voice like gravel against your skin. "The attention. The desperation and groveling. You love seeing me beg. The way you talk like you want to kill me, and the next second," his lips ghosted your cheek, his cock pressing hard against your thigh, "you’re grinding against me like a fucking addict."

Your breath hitched. His grip tightened.

"He ever let you get on top?" he murmured, lips just barely grazing yours.

Your stomach twisted. "Don't."

His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Did you think about me when he had you at first? Did you close your eyes and pretend it was my hands on you even after I broke your heart? Should I tell him that?"

Your nails dug into his shoulder, your body betraying you, the heat between your legs only getting worse, stronger, overwhelming, unbearable.

"You wish," you rasped, but it sounded too breathless, too shaky.

Harvey smirked. He knew. "Say you don’t miss me," he challenged.

You clenched your jaw, turning your head away, trying to ignore the way your body burned beneath his.

"Say it," he demanded.

You tried to, but the words wouldn't come out.

Harvey hummed. Then, his fingers slid lower, trailing along your bare thigh, teasing the hem of the towel.

"Yeah," he mused, smug and cruel. "That’s what I thought."

His fingers flexed against your thighs, his grip tightening.

"Little desperate, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice thick with something smug, something rough.

You scoffed, but your heart was hammering, your body betraying you. "If I was desperate," you whispered, leaning forward until your lips were just barely brushing against his, taunting, teasing. "You’d already be inside me."

Harvey let out a low groan. He flipped you back around, giving you full control. Letting you be on top. You lost yourself for a moment, lost the plot. You melted into him and began kissing his neck slowly and unbuttoning his shirt as you slowly moved against him. But then, you saw the picture frame you hung of you and Slade, right behind Harvey.

Slade made you take down all the photos whenever he went away on a mission, in case someone broke in and saw them, and decided to hurt you to get back at him. It was the only one you refused to remove.

It was of you and him, two months ago. Slade had a mission in Paris and he let you tag along, after you were done, you made him go to an ice cream shop. Some sweet old man asked if you wanted a picture together, Slade wasn't smiling, barely even smirking, but you could see the happiness in his eyes as he had his arms around your waist, looking down at you.

You felt nauseous, all the arousal you felt was gone. You were a whore. How could you do this to Slade? You stopped moving as your eyes watered, what if Harvey had done something to him?

Harvey's hands snapped up, gripping your hips, grinding you down onto him. He wasn't gonna let you stop now.

"Fuck, baby, I forgot how good you are at this. Don't stop, please." he exhaled, almost begging, his jaw tightening, his cock pulsing against you.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the heat clawing through your body, the way your nerves lit up at the sheer pressure of him beneath you. It felt so good. You were horny again. But you could use this to your advantage, Harvey wanted you even more that you wanted him.

"Tell me," you whispered, rolling your hips just slightly, torturing him. "Tell me what you mean when you say Slade's occupied.."

Harvey’s smirk curled, his hands dragging you down harder, making you feel every inch of him. " What’s it worth to you?"

Your breath hitched. Harvey’s fingers trailed up your back, slow, possessive, teasing. "You wanna make sure your merc comes back in one piece?"

You swallowed hard, your body thrumming with frustration, anger, something else. All control you had was slipping, your powers were making you horny but they weren't working. Harvey wasn't listening to what you told him to do.

"Make me happy, sweetheart. If I’m happy," his smirk deepened, his voice dripping with dark amusement. " the bastard stays alive."

Your chest tightened, heat roaring up your spine, burning you from the inside out. You hated him. You wanted him. You needed to keep Slade alive. Harvey’s hands slid lower, his thumbs tracing slow, burning circles into your skin.

"Make a decision, pretty girl, his flight leaves soon." he murmured, his dick twitched against you, heavy with need. God, how could he be horny while threatening your teacher/ mentor /situationship's life?

You couldn’t lose Slade.

So you kissed him. Hard. Desperate.

Harvey groaned against your lips, his hands flying up to grip your waist, dragging you down harder against him, practically trying to merge your bodies together.

"That’s my girl," he muttered, his voice rough, victorious, possessive.

Your stomach burned with shame, with need, with something twisted and terrible. You hated him. You loved him.

You needed Slade to live.

But you couldn't do this to Slade, couldn't betray him on the bed you shared every night. He would be livid, what would he do in this situation? Probably kill Harvey. But you weren't Slade, you weren't as brave or as cruel as him.

So you did what you do best: You ran.

You jumped off of Harvey, punching him in the nose, still only in your towel that somehow stayed on, and shut the bedroom door in his face. You had powers, you were faster than Harvey, maybe even stronger than him. You made it to the front door in seconds, but your heart dropped as you saw the three new deadbolts.

Fucking Slade. You debated letting him die at that point.

Suddenly, you felt him behind you, grabbing you and pinning you against the door.

“Goddamn,” He laughed, amused, mocking, “you really thought that would work?”

You snarled, struggling harder, but he didn’t budge. His grip only tightened.

“Let me go, Harvey.”

His breath hitched at the way you said his name. Not Dent. Not Two-Face. Not some alias meant to keep distance. Just Harvey.

And it made something in his chest clench. His fingers flexed, his other hand dragging up your spine in a slow, deliberate motion, making you shudder.

“You always run, don’t you?” His voice was low, smooth—but there was something dangerous beneath it. “Always running from someone.”

His grip tightened on your wrists, pressing them into the wall, “From them. From me. From yourself.”

You hated how well he knew you. You hated that he was right. You hated how he got you into bed willingly even as the guilt ate you up. You hated how good he made you feel, how you couldn't bring yourself to say no. If you did, he would stop, and you didn't want that.

"Don't act like you don't want me now. You were all over me not even a minute ago." He sneered, as he ripped off your towel like it offended him.

You didn't know how many times you came, or how long you went for. You felt so good, but somehow you've never felt worse. Even as Harvey made you scream his name, you thought of how Slade would react.

You felt even worse as the night wore on, and instead of rough sex, you began to make love. Harvey buried his face in your neck as he muttered apologies, still buried inside you, and swore he would make it up to you.

You began to cry, it felt so good. But it was so wrong, so disgusting.

And you knew you never felt true regret until you woke up the next morning in Harvey Dent's arms, naked on the bed you slept on with Slade Wilson.

WHAT YALL THINK?? 1-10?? ALSO COMMENT DOWN BELOW TO BE ON THE TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

[ i wrote this in an hour after a very long day at work so if you see any mistakes...no you dont. Also i WILL see them later. Like immediately after i post this...so it goes. Enjoy guys! 🧡 ]

The sun from his window wakes him, shining in his eyes. The night before coming back to him slowly, his stomach swooping at the memory. He reaches behind himself, blindly, his stomach dropping. The sheets are cold.

Steve rolls onto his back, letting his head fall to the side slowly, not wanting to see what he's already felt. Not wanting to see the emtpy bed Eddie had promised wouldn't be there in the morning.

He turns.

No Eddie.

He refuses to acknowledge the whine that crawls up his throat, takes a deep breath, and rolls onto his side, his fingers idly moving over the sheets Eddie had left rumpled in his wake.

It had taken them months to get here. To this place. From Eddie and Steve. To EddieAndSteve.

Steve hadn't expected Eddie. Was shocked how much he enjoyed the other boys company. He was loud, and intense, and smart, and an asshole, and kind. This weird puzzle Steve wanted to toss onto the table so he could see the pieces better.

And then he'd met the other Eddie. The Eddie he was when he was alone with someone. He was no less intense. But he got quiet. He got calm. And at first, it freaked Steve out a little bit. He hadn't been expecting it, this quiet side of Eddie.

He'd actually asked Jeff about it one day, asked if maybe he'd been doing something wrong. That Eddie was too nice to call him on it so he'd just kept his mouth shut and gotten quiet. Jeff had laughed, not meanly, and had said,

"You ever known him to keep his mouth shut? About anything?" Jeff gave him a look, his brows moving up his forehead. Steve shook his head.

"It's freaky right? When he gets quiet, and calm?" Jeff had asked, the look on his face softening when Steve nodded slowly.

"But nice right? Not in a mean way. Just... there's somethin about him when he's quiet." Jeff shrugged, still looking at Steve.

"It's like he's got so much focus. And then it goes quiet and all that focus is just... on you." Steve said, quiet, and slow. Jeff tilted his head to the side, eyes moving over Steve's thoughtful face. A lot of people usually made comments when he made that face, told him not hurt himself, thinking too hard, but not Jeff. Jeff smiled at him, clapped him on the shoulder and said.

"Yeah. And Eddie focus can a be overwhelming when you aren't used to it. But you do, get used to it." He gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze, smiled again when Steve mumbled something about that not being an issue. And that had been the end of it. And the beginning.

Steve got used to Eddie's quiet focus, the way his eyes were always on him when they were alone. He got used to the way Eddie liked doing things for him. Little favors. Little errands. Little good deeds.

He got used to the way Eddie would read to him when he got headaches. His voice calm, and even, and most of the time putting Steve to sleep.

And then he got used to the way Eddie touched him. Like he was something precious. And that was when Steve couldn't help himself. He kissed Eddie. One night in his stupid plaid bedroom. The plaid Eddie loved so much. Cuz it was all Steve.

He'd kissed him and Eddie had smiled into it. And then kissed him back. And Steve got used to that too. He'd gotten used to Eddie being there. With him. For him. Around him and inside him. He was everywhere. And everything. And Steve was so sure he loved him. That Eddie loved him back.

But he was alone.

Eddie promised he would be here with Steve in the morning. Steve was so tired of being with someone and then waking up alone. And Eddie promised, soft and sweet in that way he had, he would be here.

He promised.

Steve felt his eyes burn and curled around the pillow next to him. It still smelled like Eddie, his shampoo and his cigarettes and his sweat. Steve sobbed into the pillow, holding it close as his tears stained the fabric, his chest aching.

And then the smoke detector is blaring. Startling him, he jumps out of bed, disoriented from crying and being pulled out his little bubble. He almost trips over something on his way to the door, he looks down, sees Eddie's jeans. Huh.

He tugs his shirt down over his stomach where it had ridden up in sleep and darts down the stairs, the loud, incessant beeping is coming from the kitchen. As soon as his feet hit the stairs he smells burning. A few more steps and he hears an all too familiar voice. His heart stops pounding from the adrenaline, and starts pounding for a new reason, as he stops right outside the kitchen doorway to listen.

"Please stop please stop please stop!" Eddie's voice begs in a whisper.

"Oh my god. Oh god. What the fuck? Chair. I need a chair." Steve hears him snap his fingers, hears him grunt.

"Okay! Oh my god. Shut uuuupp!" Eddie hisses. Steve's hears him fumbling with something.

"Waking up the whole fucking neighborhood at this rate. I mean c'mon this can't- are you fucking- Gotcha!" Steve hears the sound of the fire detector click free.

"You're gonna get it now you little- oh shit. Okay. I'm okay." Eddie sounds like he's soothing himself. Steve hears another rattling noise, a little "ah HA!", and the beeping finally stops.

"Jesus." Eddie sounds out of breath.

"That was fucking never wracking. A whole fucking todo. My god." He sighs loudly, Steve covering his mouth, trying not to snort and give himself away.

"Now where was I?" Eddie asks himself, Steve hears him groan softly and can almost see the way his body deflates.

"Oh right. You." Steve smiles at the venom in his voice, has to peak around the corner to see if his suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Eddie is looking at the pan on the stove, what was once probably eggs, is now a pan full of smoldering nothing.

Eddie sighs again, his shoulders sagging. He curls his fingers around the handle, lifts the pan closer to his face, squinting at the ashes inside.

"Now, what am I... gonna do with you?" He asks, frowning. Steve bites his lip.

"I was just about to ask you the same question." Steve says, stepping around the door frame. Eddie yelps, nearly drops the pan, rights it quickly but gets a handful of ashy eggs in the process, makes a face and a strangled noise as he sets it back on the stove.

"Steve! You're awake!" He says, smiling, as he takes a few steps backwards, shoves his hands into the sink and scrubs them off, gagging once as he pushes soap between his fingers. Steve drags his teeth over his bottom lip, lets it go. Smiles as he watches Eddie clean his hands.

"Yes Eddie. I'm awake." He leans agaisnt the door frame.

"I um... did I wake you up? I didn't mean too. I had like a whole...plan. Well... maybe not a whole plan. Half a plan? Let's call it part of a plan. " his hands flail and then drag down his shirt as he dries them.

"What are we talkin like, sixty/forty?" Steve teases, Eddie fowns, scrunches his face.

"I wouldn't give it that much. It was eighty/twenty at best."  His hand wiggles and wobbles in front of him. The laugh that bursts out of Steve makes him smile.

"I just wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. I only remembered about half way in that I, actually, cannot cook." His eyes move to the ashy eggs again.

"Clearly." He sighs, his shoulders drooping again. Steve's stomach swoops, again, and this time the feeling stays. He laughs again. And moves toward Eddie. Eddie looks at him, holds his hands up between them quickly, like he's gonna fight Steve off with Karate he doesn't know.

"I will clean your kitchen! I just wanted to do something nice for- oomf." He huffs out air into Steve's shoulder as Steve slams into him and pulls him close.

"Oh. Hi." His voice has gone from defensive to pleasantly surprised, his hands resting against Steve's back are warm, and he can feel Eddie smiling into his shoulder.

"You stayed." Steve breathes, closes his eyes and breaths Eddie in, squeezing him tighter. Eddie makes a teasing gasping for air noise and then squeezes back.

"Well yeah. I promised didn't I?" Eddie asks, his fingers digging into Steve's sides, making him squirm. Steve pulls back and looks at him.

"Yes. You did. Thank you for keeping your promise." Steve watches Eddie smile, watches his eyes wander slowly over his face, taking him. And then he kisses him. Again. For maybe the hundredth time. For the thousandth. Steve doesn't know. Just knows that he never wants to stop. But he does, so he can look at Eddie, all wide eyed and frizzy haired, looking a little dazed, the way he always does when Steve kisses him.

"Will you make me another promise?" Steve whispers, bumping his nose softly into Eddie's. He's already nodding.

"Yeah. Anything. What do want?" Eddie asks, his hands squeezing Steve's hips gently.

"Promise me. You'll never, ever, try to cook anything for me ever again." Steve bites his lip when Eddie sqwuaks and shoves him away.

"I was trying! To be sweet to you!!" He shouts, his hands on his chest as he backs away, over dramatically offended.

"I know. And the thought was very nice." Steve nods, grabs the pan and holds it upside down, the ashes do not move, or fall out.

"But I think you killed my pan. And I really can't take anymore kitchen casualties, like, financially. At the moment. So..." he sets the pan back down, smiling when Eddie glares at him. He shakes his head, crosses his arms.

"You try to do something nice for your boyfriend, and what do you get? Nothin but jokes. And financial insecurity." He huffs, his nose in the air. After maybe half a second he glances at Steve.

"But yeah I can promise you that." He winks and then all but bounces back into Steve's arms, nuzzling into his neck and humming.

"Please tell me you can cook. We're gonna die if you can't. We're gonna starve to death. And I'm already precariously skinny, we can't let it get any worse. I'll be nothing but skin and bone come winter!" Eddie laments, going nearly limp in Steve's arms, trusting him to catch him, to hold him up, and he does, as he laughs.

"Worry not fair maiden. I can indeed cook. Shall I scramble you an egg? Make you some toast perhaps?" Steve asks, his hands soothing up and down Eddie's back. Eddie straightens immediately at his words and pulls back, his head cocked to the side.

"Okay toast does sound amazing but I need you know that if you keep playing along with my little dramatics like that, that pan isn't gonna be only thing I ruin in this kitchen." Eddie's cheeks are flushed, his teeth worrying into bottom lip.

"Did you mean for that sound so fucking smooth?" Steve asks, his cheeks going hot as Eddie's eyes drop to his mouth.

"Not at all! Oh my god!  I didn't even mean it like that, but it was so good!" His little excited face as he hops a few times is the best fucking thing Steve's ever seen.

"Well how bout we go ruin something in my bedroom instead. And I can make you toast, or whatever you want, after?" Steve asks, sliding his hands down Eddie's arms and tangling their fingers. Eddie nods excitedly. Steve turns to leave the kitchen and Eddie jumps on his back.

"Oof." Steve sighs.

"Sorry. Wanted a ride up the stairs. You have too many stairs in your house." Eddie whines, smiling into Steve's shoulder when he hikes his legs up and holds him.

"Hey what else can you make besides toast? Can you make soups?" Eddie asks, as Steve takes the steps slowly.

"Yep."

"Hell yes! Can you make grilled cheese?" Eddie asks.

"Yep."

"Amazing. Can you maaake.... meatloaf?" Eddie asks.

"I haven't in awhile, but I have a great recipe for it. Soooo... yes." Steve answers.

"Nice! Can you maaaakkeee.... ooohh can you make bread?" He pats at Steve's chest excitedly. Steve laughs, bounces him once as he heads down the hall to his room.

"Mhm. I can. A few different kinds." Steve hums.

"Holy shit. You're a cooking wizard! We shan't starve after all!" Eddie shouts, his voice echoing off the walls before Steve closes the door, the sound of their laughter muffled through the door as they fall into bed. Steve rolls on top of him, smiles down at him, and thanks him over and over again, through smiles and whispers and gasps and moans. Thanks him for keeping his promise. Thanks him for staying. For staying with Steve.

And Eddie tells him, in that easy way he has, quiet and intense, that there's no place else he'd rather be.

[anlxcqrd]

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄

sypnosis: the strongest lets you wear his blindfold and things escalated very quickly.

contains: friends to lovers? p in v, oral sex, etc.

pairings: gojo satoru/reader

warnings: mdni nsfw ahead!

a/n: took a break and now im here. sorry if it sucks cause i didn't proofread it cause im still busy :(

"Like who puts milk first? Some people are just a bunch of psychos!" He clasps both sides of his head in a dramatic way as he ranted.

"Uh huh"

"Don't give me that 'oh it's to prevent my cereal from getting soggy' shit. I can't understand them Y/N!" He whined and you put your mug down on the coffee table where his long legs where resting.

"You know what I don't understand?" You look at him and he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'what'. "How you can see through your blindfold. I get that you have the six eyes but i dont get how the seeing through shits works. Can you also see other objects?" You look at him as if he was a flat earther and he only laughs.

"That's cause im cool." He arrogantly brushed his hair back. "And only cool people can do this!" You roll your eyes knowing you're not getting a proper answer from him.

"Wanna try wearing it?" He asks you and you immediately shake your head. "No! You're gonna tire yourself out and I was just-" he cuts you off. "Look, I might say that a lot but trust me I'm not that weak and its only for fun! Its not like you're going to burn it or something."

His long fingers then trail to the top of his blindfold and pulled it down slowly. There you can see his mesmerizing azure eyes staring down at you. "Here." He hands you his blindfold.

You reluctantly take it from him and you slide it on. As expected, you can't see anything. Just right before you can take it off, a pair of lips meet yours, capturing you in a tender yet deep kiss.

"Mmh!" You push him away and took off the blindfold. You see him looking at you with a flushed face. "Y/N I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me I just-" you kiss him cutting off whatever he said. His eyes widen and immediately kisses you back.

And thats how you end up face down ass up taking in the meanest backshots you've ever received. "Fuck!" He spanked your ass hard making you squirm. His huge hands gripped your hips hard to keep you in place.

The way he was pistoning into you made you tear up from how it good it felt. You wish you can see him through the blindfold that was preventing you from seeing.

"Satoruuu" you whine as he rubbed tight circles on your clit making your legs tremble. His tip was kissing your g-spot trying his best not to hit your cervix and cause any discomfort. "Y/N" he whimpered your name, he feels like his hips had a mind of its own, moving on its own like it was a hungry beast.

As the teacher's lounge was filled with sounds of your hips hitting each other along with your moans and whimpers. He flips you on your back and kisses you again. This abyss is something you never want to escape. Your souls were colliding, fading into each other as you made love with passion.

"I'm cummin' ngh can i cum in you? Please let me cum in you." He begged desperate to release himself inside your gummy walls.

"yes please cum in me. Fill me up satoru." You nod vigorously, drunk in his touch and love. He kneaded your breasts, pulling and pinching them as he picks his pace up desperate to cum.

"Ah-yes fuck yes!" He groaned feeling his balls tighten as they hit your ass. "Don't stop, please! Fuck right there yes!!" Your eyes roll back behind the fabric as you fill his warm cum fill you up.

His trembling hands sloppily takes off the blindfold, giving you access to see again. He groped your breast and sucked the other one as he grinds into you again.

You kiss him before moving down to his still-hard cock. You kiss his tip and pre cum leaked out of him. As you start sucking him off he licks a long stripe on your cunt making you gasp and almost lose your balance. "Ah! Satoru wait- ngh!" He only pushes your head further down and fucks your mouth.

after what felt like an eternity you both reached your limits and is now cuddled up on the couch. You kiss his cheek and he holds you closer.

The silence went on for a long time until you hear the door open.

Oh shit.

[imgoodimhealthy]

i like you — m.l

p. mark x f!reader

t. fluff, comfort, reader has toxic family, toxic household, arguments infront of the table, comparing, asian type of parents lmao, mark confessed at the end :^

n. i wrote this cuz i relate to itt:// except for the fact that i dont have a mark lee to comfort me.

𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭

you and mark were just teenagers, never really caring much about anything. carefree, careless, and chaotic, but in a way that felt right for both of you. you didn’t think too deeply about life, just drifting through it together. mark was more than just your best friend, he was like the very definition of what a best friend should be—always there, no questions asked, no judgments made. it never even crossed your mind that you’d develop feelings for him, feelings you knew you shouldn’t have, but somehow, there you were.

home had never been a place of comfort for you. it haunted you, how the very people who were supposed to be your family always seemed to be against you. “i expected better from you, y/n,” your mother’s cold words hit you straight in the face, the disappointment in her voice unmistakable.

"i’ve already done so much better than before..." you barely managed to whisper, feeling the weight of every stare in the room as your family’s eyes bore into you, judging every bit of who you were as you sat there at the dining table. the meal in front of you remained untouched. the tension in the air was so thick, it made it impossible to even think about eating. honestly? every meal felt like this. breakfast, lunch, dinner—always filled with criticism, scolding, and the constant reminder that you needed to be better.

“better is never enough,” your mother added, her tone sharp. “do your best.” you bit down on your lower lip to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret, forcing your gaze away from her.

but then the words that always stung the most reached your ears. “look at your sister, she’s excelling. why can’t you learn from her?”

those words echoed in your mind, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

really now?

you couldn’t help the bitter scoff that escaped your lips. standing up from the table, you finally looked at your mother. after 18 years of holding it in, you had reached your limit.

“why is it always her that you see?” you asked, your voice shaking with frustration. “if you’re just going to keep praising her and tearing me down, then maybe you shouldn’t even consider me your daughter anymore. because honestly?” you paused, taking in the shocked expressions of everyone at the table. some of them looked surprised, others just furrowed their brows, while a few remained completely expressionless. “honestly, i’ve never once felt like i was your daughter.” the words trembled out of you, but you said them anyway before storming out of the dining room.

you could hear your mother shouting your name, telling you to come back, but you didn’t hear a thing. you were too overwhelmed, too tired, too angry.

you stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind you. poor mark, who had been on his way over to your place with a bunch of school papers for you to catch up on, stood there, startled. he blinked a few times, watching as you walked right past him without even a glance in his direction.

you walked quickly, your feet carrying you towards the small park near your neighborhood, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“assholes,” you muttered to yourself, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you as you kicked at the stones scattered along the path. why did it have to be this way? why did something as simple as family feel so impossible?

you sighed heavily, your chest tight with frustration and exhaustion. why did it all feel so heavy? why did you feel so overwhelmed? you had never compared yourself to your sister before, but now that you thought about it, you realized she really was better—better in every way.

you found yourself sitting on a swing, staring up at the sky as the cold breeze brushed against your skin. you hadn’t eaten dinner, just like so many nights before, but you didn’t even care anymore. arguments always seemed to fill the space where food should have.

before you knew it, you felt something warm and soft drape across your shoulders, startling you for a moment. you turned your head to see mark standing there, looking down at you, his expression full of concern. you could tell he knew something had happened at home again, but he didn’t ask. instead, he simply placed his jacket around your shoulders, offering you the only comfort he could.

“it’s cold,” he said softly, sitting on the swing next to you. he still had the school papers in his hand, but he didn’t say a word about them. he just stared straight ahead, not wanting to look at you, not wanting to make you feel like he was judging you the way your family did.

sometimes it was better to just sit in silence, to be there without saying anything, making sure you were okay without asking questions that didn’t need to be asked.

"what's that?" you managed to ask, glancing down at the papers in his hand.

mark looked over at you, studying your face carefully. "it's the pair project," he said calmly.

huh?

did he really do it all by himself?

"what?" you straightened up, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. there was no way he’d just gone ahead and completed the project without even asking for your help. "what about me?" you asked, your voice catching a little.

"what about you?" he tilted his head, his expression neutral.

you felt yourself slipping back into your usual comfort zone, the kind of casual banter you were used to with him. "what about my grades? you did that all on your own?" you asked, feeling a strange mix of confusion and guilt.

"yeah," he said, cutting you off before you could say more. "you weren’t feeling well the past few days, so i just did it myself. i came by to give you a copy so you could look it over, in case the teacher asks you anything about it..." he explained, handing the papers to you.

you looked down at them, still trying to process. why was he being so nice?

"mark, what’s gotten into you?" you narrowed your eyes at him, suspicion creeping into your voice.

"i’m just being a person," he replied, his words simple, but his eyes told a different story. he was clearly itching to ask what had happened, but he held back, not wanting to upset you any further by prying.

so he just sat there in silence, keeping his mouth shut, waiting for you to speak if you wanted to.

it was silent. the kind of silence that was eating away at mark, making the air between you both feel heavier with each passing second.

he sighed.

he couldn't take it any longer. without looking at you, he decided to speak. "you know i’m here," he said quietly, his voice softer than usual.

mark might have been the jerk you’d known for most of your life, but jerk mark wasn’t just some jerk—he was mark lee. your mark. the definition of "best" in best friend.

"you can always lean on me, you know that," he added, his voice still gentle, but firm in its sincerity.

you looked away, suddenly feeling the weight on your chest again. what was wrong with you? moments ago, everything felt fine, or at least manageable, but now the heaviness had returned. maybe it was because mark was so good at making you feel safe, good at making you feel seen.

you sighed, your throat tight and your eyes stinging a little. "you’re a jerk," you said, your voice shaking, trying to hold back the emotions building up inside.

mark glanced at you then. "maybe i am," he said with a small shrug. "but i care. a lot. i see you, i see your emotions, and i..." he trailed off, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to make things more complicated than they already were.

but what could he do? the truth was too obvious to hide.

"i can’t help but feel bad," he continued after a beat. "i can’t do much about it, other than just stay by your side. be here for you."

what else could he do?

you didn’t know how to respond. what had gotten into him? you looked down at your shoes, his jacket still draped over your shoulders, the faint smell of his cologne lingering around you.

"you shouldn’t say that," you said with a bitter chuckle. "honestly, you’re better than my parents." the laugh that followed was short and hollow.

mark looked at you, but this time, he didn’t know what to say.

"no," he finally said after a moment. "i’m just seeing you for who you really are." he gave you a small, hesitant smile, and then gently reached out, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "don’t think so little of yourself. you’re too precious to be seen that way," he added softly.

you scoffed, looking away, feeling a little flustered. "you sound crazy now."

the silence returned for a brief moment.

"maybe i am," he said with a small nod.

you furrowed your brows, turning to look at him in confusion. what was he even talking about?

"am i crazy if i say i like you?" he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

[wosoragebaiter69]

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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

It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

[comet-forgot-you]

shotgun

amber x reader

ambers kinda cute or wtv 🩶

summary: amber is known for throwing the best parties in woodsboro, being anika’s best friend always secures you an invite.

warnings: 18+ pls weed consumption, thigh grinding, shotgun kisses bc yes, smut

a/n: this is my first time posting my work on anything, sorry if its not the best. do not repost for any reason🙏🏼 ao3

the cold fall air felt like a relief from the stuffy heat of amber’s crowded house. you take a seat on the outdoor couch, the backyard was empty, the small amount of people who remained at amber’s house either inside or passed out somewhere out front. you stuff your hands into you pockets and lean back, thankful the party was coming to its end so you and anika would be leaving soon.

“hey,” you look up, eyes locking with amber’s as she took a seat next to you.

“hey,” you sit up a little straighter, suddenly conscious of your appearance. she takes a joint out of her pocket.

“why’re you out here? party’s in there,” she says as she lights it. she puts the joint against her lips and you can’t help but keep your eyes trained on her movements.

“too many people,” you say, turning to look away, not wanting to make your crush on her so obvious.

“you smoke?” she asks, taking another deep inhale. you look back at her as she exhaled.

“not really, no.”

“here,” she offers her joint and your cheeks flushed, now worried about having to actually tell her you’ve never actually smoked.

“i um,” you pause, “i’ve never smoked weed before,” you mumble, adjusting your hoodie. she smiles lightly and you cant help but miss it when she puts the joint back up against her lips.

“do you want to?” you take a moment to reply. you want to say yes because its amber freeman. you want to say yes because her lips were just on it. but the thought of the thought of not doing it right scares you, and you want to say no.

“yeah,” but fuck it, you’ll do anything amber asks of you. amber smiles again, flicking the ashes off of the joint and she pulls herself over your lap.

holy fuck. this wasn’t what you were expecting. “this okay?” she asks. you’re looking everywhere but at her, your hands lamely at your sides, unaware of where you’re supposed to put them. she tilts your chin so you’re looking up at her, you grab her hips to ground yourself so you dont day something stupid.

“yeah,” you whisper. she smiles again.

“good. when i tap your neck, inhale, okay?” you nod with her directions. she takes a hit and her lips are on yours soon after. you grip her hips ever so slightly and when she taps on your neck, you almost forget what the purpose of this was. you inhale the smoke she blows out of her mouth. your lungs burn with the unfamiliar burn of the smoke. you blow the smoke out of your nose and amber keeps kissing you, her tongue trailing across your bottom lip. the hand on your chin trails down, grabbing softly at your neck.

your lips chase after hers when she pulls away and you hear a soft laugh. you open your eyes and you’re sure you look pathetic with how you look up at her but you dont care. “again?” you ask in such a quiet voice, you’re not sure she hear you. but when she takes a hit and taps your neck, her lips are back on yours and you’re inhaling the smoke again. you’re too focused on the feeling of her lips on yours you almost dont notice the roll of amber’s hips against your thigh. you groan out at the thought of her using your thigh to get off. she smiles in the kiss.

you help guide her hips against your thigh, flexing it, bouncing your leg ever so slightly, anything to make her feel good and when she moans against your neck, you feel like you might cum at the mere sound. “f-fuck, y/n,” the simple words making you melt. “you feel so fuckin’ good, shit,” she mumbles. her hands tangle in your hair, giving it a tug, exposing more of your neck. she sucks dark spots where she could reach, and you whimper when she runs her tongue over the bruised areas.

“amber, fuck,” push her cunt against your firm thigh, pushing and pulling her hips at a fast rate, a satisfied moan leaving her lips.

“don’t you fucking stop, y/n. you’re doing so fucking good, you feel so fucking good, fuck,” a whimper leaves your throat so pathetically. you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so caught up in the moment. “fuck,” she mumbles, bringing her lips up to yours. your tongues fight but its clear who has the dominant hand, and you wouldnt have it any other way. “fuck,” her hips stutter in your hold, a wet feeling slowly seeping onto the denim of your jeans. you slow your movements, allowing her time to come down from her high.

she struggles to catch her breath, panting against your neck. you bring your cold hand under her shirt. she arches into you, and she smacks you ever so slightly. “your hands are cold as shit,” she says, pulling your hand out of her shirt. she kisses your neck once more before pulling herself off of you. you cant help but miss the feeling of her warm body against yours. “fuck,” she whispers, swiping at your shoulder. you look at it, your hoodie sporting three small burn marks. “i put it out when i remembered it,” she says, a frown tugging at her lips. “guess i didn’t put it out in time, sorry,” she mumbles.

“its fine, theyre small, nothing to be too worried about.” she pulls your hand from your pocket and tugs on it.

“help me kick all of these people out and we’ll go for round two with a lot more than that,” she says.

fuck, maybe you wouldn’t be leaving with anika. eh, she’ll be fine without you, besides, she has mindy.

a/n: i wrote this in like 30 minutes. sorry 🙏🏼 how is this??

pt 2

[norizz-nation]

Hi can you do a Carlos x French reader smut I want the dynamic to be daddy and baby girl but can you don’t do directly the smut like can you explain before what happened to have them in bed if you can example what they were doing before🥹🫶🏻thx you’re the best🥰💓🫶🏻

Thank you so much sweetheart and I hope I can reach your expectations ❤️

My little angel ❤️

Summary: your parents finally allowed you to go abroad on a vacation and you decided to go to spain where things took a quick turn

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, daddy kink, size kink, choking, praise kink

“Please mum! Im 22 now! I can go out alone” you stated to your mum as she kept saying no for quite a few times. You then let out a frustrated sigh as your mum said “well just dont do anything illegal and dont get in trouble okay?” you then rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but laugh at what she just said. “Aweh mum dont worry” you said as you hugged her tightly.

Honestly you were loving Spain, the weather, the people, the atmosphere everything was so different than what its in France. It has been 2 days since you’re here, loving your sweet little trip. After roaming around in Madrid for a while you wanted to go to this museum although you didn’t like museums that much.

As you went there you sort of felt lost because you didn’t actually see the museum map before going inside which ended up you wandering here and there. All this time there was this man who was examining every move of yours from distance. You suddenly bumped to a man when you turned around and apologized immediately as you looked up at him who was looking at you with a smirk on his face. “You look like youre lost in this town, lost in this museum. Do you need help baby girl?” He asked, his tone was so polite and gentle. “Baby girl?” You asked as you furrowed your brows and crossed your arms together. He then chuckled at your question and started nodding his head. “I mean, you look really young and innocent. May i know what your name is?” He asked as he looked at you straight in the eye. “Im y/n not baby girl” you said as you rolled your eyes at him and he smiled. “Im carlos by the way. But you dont seem like you’re from here. Are you?” He asked as you shook your head. “No no im actually french” you said. “Wow that’s interesting, i can show you around baby girl” carlos said as he pointed at the main gate to signal you to leave with him and you just smiled.

The whole evening was fun with him, every little jokes he cracked made you laugh so hard. Teaching you a little bit of spanish in between your conversations with him. Everything just seemed great with him. But the “baby girl” nickname just stayed there. “Why do you keep calling me that? I have a name” you said as you laughed a little. “Because you are a baby girl. So beautiful and innocent for this world” he said as he got closer to you. His lips just a few inches away from yours as you started to feel the heat rush through your body. Somehow his presence was so powerful that you could just give yourself to him. You parted your lip a little as you tried to lean in but Carlos grabbed your face and snapped you back to reality. “Oh, you try to be so wild in front of me but inside you’re just a sweet little angel, so naive and sweet” he said as his thumb started to caress your lips as the need inside of you grew much more than before.

“Youre so innocent baby girl. Oh the things I would love to do to you, right now” he said that was just like a whisper in your ear. “Like what?” You asked as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Oh you’ll know soon, you’ll know” he said as he came more closer, letting your heart beat faster than before. Your whole body stiffened as he felt him pull away and smirk just inches away from your lips, teasing you to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore as you let out a frustrated sigh. “Being frustrated wont help baby girl, come with me” he said as he turned around to look at you with a cocky smile on his face.

The fragrance his house had was so warm and welcoming as you sat on the couch and carlos brought a bottle of wine and placed it on the table. After a couple of drinks you started to feel carlos’ cologne more in your nose. You just wanted to wrap your hands around him. The tension grew stronger between you two.

Carlos then came closer to you as he placed his huge hands on your thigh chuckling at the sight that you are so small. "Fuck baby girl, you're really small for me. But dont worry im gonna make it fit in your hole. All your holes" he whispered in your ear as shiver ran down your spine and you rubbed your thighs together. "God, look at you. Already needy." he said as he looked down and looked back at you as he came closer to lips and brushed his lips with yours causing you to open your mouth a little but that didn’t help. You then whined and groaned as you looked at him with puppy eyes. “You really think youre gonna get what you want from me just by whining? Not at all angel. Use your pretty little mouth of yours” he said as his hand wrapped around your neck, choking it lightly first then tightening the grip as you gulped at the sight in front of you. He then pulled your t-shirt up and dropped it on the floor as he wrapped his hands around your waist to lift you up and position you properly on your back, as he groaned at the fact that his hands fit perfectly around your waist. “God, even your waist is smaller than my hands” he said as he trailed his finger down your lower abdomen as you started to squirm in his touch again.

He then tucked in your pants and you tried to push it down by grabbing his hand but he was strong enough to stay still and not push it down. “Use. Your. Words” he said, his tone so cold as you whined out. “I-i want you” you managed to say. “No its not good enough baby girl. Tell me properly” he said as he unzipped your pants slowly. “I want y-you to fuck me. P-please” you said whining as you ran your hands over his chest. “Yeah thats more like it” he said as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. He then pulled your pants down along with your underwear and did the same with himself.

Carlos brushed his tip at your entrance that made wet sounds from your pussy as a string of slick connected with his dick to your pussy as he groaned at the sight. “Fuck baby girl, your pussy is so small for me. Can you take it like a good little girl you are? Take it all for me?” He said as he caressed your face and you nodded impatiently. He then went inside of you slowly and stayed still for a moment until you started to rock your hips against him. At first his thrusts were slow and gentle but he went deep inside of you every time. “Fuck carlos, stop teasing me” you said as you bucked your hips up. “Beg for it baby girl” he said as he smirked at you. “F-fuck me harder daddy p-please!” You pleaded as he choked you again and kissed your ear before saying “daddy huh? youre that needy?” you just nodded as he went faster and you dig your nails in his forearms. “Fuck fuck f-fuuuck yes!” You screamed out.

Carlos then pulled your legs above his shoulder and kissed your ankles as he continued to fuck you. The heat between you two, the intensity, everything was just too much to handle. “You look like an angel baby girl” he said as he groaned. “My little angel” he threw his head back as his breathing got heavier. “Daddy i-im gonna c-cum so bad, fuck” you said as your back started to arch uncontrollably. “Me too baby girl, me too” he said breathlessly. You both got down from your high when carlos kissed you, so softly that it made you melt. His kiss was so sweet and gentle.

“Wanna watch the stars?” He asked out of nowhere as he kissed your forehead. “Yes” you said that was like a whisper. You both then went to the terrace as you snuggled in his arms and watched the stars. His finger twirling in your back as he rested his face on your head. “When are you gonna go back to France?” He asked softly, his voice sounded like he wanted you to stay there forever, with him. “Tomorrow evening” you said as you looked up at him and saw his face froze as he said nothing. You sat back up with a concerned look on your face. “I can come visit you again if you want carlos” you said as you cupped his face and his face started to fall. His eyes begging you to stay. “Or maybe I can go visit you” he said, his voice started to break a bit. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah exactly” you said. “Promise me you’ll come back again” carlos said as he came closer to you. You then hugged him tightly “i promise carlos” you reassured him as you felt tear in the corner of your eye.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[the-massive-simp]

I've been thinking about fem/gn reader losing their virginity to kaeya, venti and kaveh... But maybe they accidentally get hurt and have to stop? I wanna know how they'd act when something like that happens (:

a/n: I love this kind of prompt <3 here you go anon! I'm slowly trying to fight writer's block so its only headcanons and not drabbles but I tried my best. sadly there's no venti because i dont really feel comfortable writing suggestive or nsfw things with him (i know i got your request before changing my rules so you did nothing wrong. sorry for the inconvenience). and remember everyone: a yes can turn into a no at any moment, and that's completely fine. consent is key. also I think that my love for kaveh shows in this one because his part is twice kaeya's one

warnings: it's not graphic smut but sex is mentioned so don't read if you're uncomfortable with that. no mentions of protections (make sure use them irl)

♡Kaeya♡

I imagine Kaeya being a super sex positive person, like for him sex is not a big deal as long as there's respect for the other person

so he was probably ready to have sex with you since you started dating 💀

but of course he didn't push you, he waited for you to be ready to have your first time with him

one time you have dinner at his place and an heated make up sessions evolves in discarding eachother clothes

he asks for your consent like 100 times while you two move to the bedroom

he knows how important foreplay is, so he makes sure to prepare you for the main act

then he slowly pushes himself in, an heavy breath leaving his lips as he hides his face in your neck, his arms supporting him so he doesn’t put all of his weight on you

you immediately feel uncomfortable

the stretch feels too much and its almost painful

at first you think it's normal but it doesn't go away even after he begins to gently trust in you

if anything, it gets worse, but he fails to notice tour discomfort

tears start to spill from your eyes as you put your hands on kaeya chest and tell him to stop

he immediately freezes, concern and guilt flooding his face

"Can I pull out?"

you nod and he backs away from your body, opting to sit back to give you some space

"Did it hurt? Did I do something wrong? Should I go get you anything?"

he listens to you as you try to explain him how you felt

he goes getting a warm cloth to gently clean you up before embracing you in his arms

he feels really bad for not having noticed your discomfort sooner

you tell him that's its fine, you thought you were ready but maybe you were too nervous

you two keep talking about it for a while until you fall asleep

after that for a while he's a bit reluctant to try again because he doesn't want to hurt you

but when you tell him that you really want to take this step with him, he finally agrees

expect 3 hours of foreplay

♡Kaveh♡

now now

sweet kaveh loves to spoil you, taking you out to have dinner and go shopping

however his wallet does not enjoy it as much as he does

so you often have dates where you just go for a walk together or have a picnic

it's during one of those dates that he casually mentions the subject of sex

now, he doesn’t want to force you but he loves you so much and the idea of you two doing that together looks amazing to him

the conversation its not meant to push you, but rather to offer you an occasion to talk about it together and see if you feel the same about him

when you tell him you're ready (be it that same date or after years) he gets so excited

he can't believe you're going to share the magic moment of your first time with him of all people

he probably asks you if you two can go at your place since he doesn't want alhaitham around

once you two get down to business, he's the sweetest guy ever

he kisses every single inch of your body, basically worshipping you

makes sure to keep eye contact with you most of the time so he can notice if anything is wrong

after the foreplay, he lets you get on top of him, straddling his lap while his back is propped up by some pillows

he wants you to be the one in charge so you can choose the pace of events

the moment you lower yourself on him, he knows something is wrong

yes, he does feel a lot of pleasure from finally being inside of you, but he doesn't miss the face you make

when after a few seconds he sees tears pooling in your eyes he has the confirmation of his suspects

he immediately grabs your hips and pulls you up, making you sit on his thighs before comfortly rubbing your arms and shoulders

"What's wrong baby?"

he's so gentle with you, holding you close while you sniffle in his neck, hands resting on his chest

he strokes your hair and reassures you that you don't have to do anything if you're not ready, that he'd wait a thousand years for you, that he loves you as much as before, that sex is not the important thing in your relationship

he waits for you to calm down before asking you what exactly you think went wrong

if you tell him you want to try again he's completely fine with it, but he becomes even more attentive and gentle, making sure that this time you'll be able to enjoy it

[neobomb]

give into things i (dont) want to [mark lee]

Toxic! (yandere ish) possessive/jealous! bsf!Mark x nerd! innocent!reader, hints of Jaemin x reader. Warnings: dark and triggering content, mature themes, toxic behaviour, manipulation, forcing??, inappropriate behaviour, MDNI, there will be smut in other parts First part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Word Count: 1.1k Summary: Your best friend Mark doesn't like it when you go out on a date. © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Who did you go on that date with?” Mark's voice was tinged with impatience. You paused, your attention torn between the problem sheet in front of you and his probing question.

“Seriously, Mark? Now’s not the time.” Your voice was weary, the familiar topic weighing on you.

“Look, Y/N, we’ve been inseparable since we were kids. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me everything.” His voice softened, his desperation evident. There was always a buzz of curiosity about you, mainly because dating was never your focal point. Your peers saw you as a diligent student, so engrossed in academics that romance was a distant thought.

Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But promise you won’t overreact.” You knew Mark all too well. Over the years, you'd come to understand Mark's protective streak. It wasn't just about keeping suitors at bay; it was deeper than that. He was ever-present, casting a watchful eye over anyone who tried to get close. Sometimes, you wondered why you tolerated his constant presence, but a part of you appreciated the bond you two shared. After all these years, he stuck to you like glue.

“I went out on a date with Jaemin last friday when you were on your way back from Canada. He took me to his favorite café. That’s all.” you blurted out. For a moment, the room felt still, the weight of your words settling between you.

“I was just curious, you know.” he murmured, his gaze drifting to your lips. “I was away for two damn weeks and you’re already looking to replace me.” Confusion clouded your eyes as you met his gaze. A tangible hint of betrayal was evident in his expression. You could sense the tension building between the two of you. “Mark, don’t say it like that. You know that you’re irreplaceable to me.” The pain in his eyes was unbearable, and you wished you could take back your words. Regret surged through you for having shared that piece of information with him.

“I’ve come to realize that… I don’t even like him in that way. We're just planning to hang out as friends, that's all.” Even as the words left your lips, you knew Mark could see through them. That was a blatant lie, a desperate attempt to make the situation better. You’ve had a crush on Jaemin for ages, and you never expected him to ask you out. 

“Jaemin is the complete opposite of you. He’s too cocky and you’re very naive. He doesn’t deserve you.” A shadow of disappointment crossed Mark's face, his intense gaze making it difficult for you to meet his eyes.  

“You shouldn't surround yourself with people like him. He won’t ever be your true friend. Why isn't just having me in your life enough for you?“ A tear slowly fell from your eye out of sheer distress. The last thing you wanted was for Mark to feel undervalued. In truth, he meant more to you than words could express. No one knew you like he did. He would do anything for you. You did not deserve him. 

“I’m sorry, Mark,” you whispered. Gently, he cradled your face in his hand, brushing away the tear with his thumb. 

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” he murmured, his face moving closer. Just as your lips were almost brushing against each other, you turned your head, breaking free from his hold, refusing to give into whatever he desperately tried to manipulate you into. “You’re really hurting me, you know that, right?” he says in disappointment. 

"If by 'hurting you' you mean not letting you use this situation to manipulate me, then yes," you responded firmly, realizing the precariousness of the situation. The wetness of your tears was replaced by a steely resolve as you recognized the toxicity of his approach. “It’s both a blessing and a curse that we know each other so well” he smirked and continued to let silence fill the room for the next hour or two. 

"Did anything happen between you and Jaemin?" he asked, attempting to redirect the conversation and breaking the long comforting silence. “I bet he tried to kiss you.”

“No, I was too self conscious to let anything happen.” you responded, your pen moving steadily across your notebook, scribbling rounded shapes. 

“So you need someone you’re comfortable with. Someone you can fully trust.” he says in a husky voice while his hand grabs your thigh, slowly making moves up your thigh, playing with the hem of your skirt. 

“Mark, don’t-'' you stop him. Placing both of your hands on his, pushing it away from moving dangerously close to your inner thigh. “Y/N, give me one good reason why we can’t continue this.” He grips onto your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. “We’ve been through this many times, Mark. I can give you a million reasons.” 

“You say a lot of things, Y/N” he whispers to you softly, closing the distance between the two of you once again. Mark is tired of hearing your nonsense. He is resentful of the confines of the title 'best friend' you assigned him. He yearns for you to see beyond those constraints, to envision a future with him. He desperately wants to be more than your friend, yet the fear of confessing and potentially losing you holds him back. It has been holding him back for years. 

“None of your reasons can explain the look you give me. I mean, you don’t look at someone like that unless you’re in love, right?” Your cheeks flush, taken aback by his ability to see right through you. Breathless, you find yourself entranced as his eyes flit between your lips and your gaze. His grip held your thigh so tightly, nails digging into your sensitive skin. 

“I’m scared, Mark. This feels weird.” you say while desperately trying to look away from him. Your attempts would ultimately fail as he brings his hand to cup your chin, forcefully turning your face to meet his. His intense stare is making you shake to your core. 

“The panic in your face does wonders to me” he says as he finally presses his lips onto yours, kissing you roughly. His endless passion pouring into the kiss made you swallow your meaningless innocent pleas in between kisses. You were unaware of the depth of his yearning, blind to the years of unwavering devotion he had silently offered you. He has been longing for you for way too long. His patience has run out. 

[kgirlgroup-stan]

Support

fluff, male reader

Y/N pov

It was a very cold tonight. This years winter is no joke. I looked up at the night sky as small drops of snow fell. I sighed out loud being able to see my breath. I had just enough money to buy a hot chocolate. 

Sitting on a bench near a park, i took the time to close my eyes and process things. Since i was a child i've always have had problem. At a young age i was put into a foster home, once 18 i was forced out of there. Since then I have never had a stable place to live in. 

I took a sip of my drink. Slowly accepting that I was going to have to sleep out here tonight. I let out another sigh, my head dropping down to look at my hands. The cup giving me the slightest bit of warmth.

"y/n? is that you?" i snapped my head up and turned to the voice to see my best friend, Sakura.

I had met her during school, she knew about my situation to an extent. I had to lie to her and tell her that i had a family that was taking care of me as their own.I didnt want to worry her.  she always took my problems as hers and tried to make me feel better, i dont know if her being a year older than me had anything to do with it.

I knew she would be more than willing to let me stay with her and her family but i just didnt want to be a burden. I have been able to keep up the lie until i guess now.

"oh h-hey sakura, how are you?" i tried to play it off, i was still slightly surprised since it was pretty late not much people were out and I didnt expect for Sakura to be out this late either.

"Im okay" she looked at me a bit confused. "what are you doing out here?" she came closer, stopping right in front of me, making me have to look up at her.

"ah y-you know just craving some hot cocoa"my fingers were fidgeting against my drink and looked at her with a nervous smile.

She narrowed her eyes at me when she noticed my movement. It was easy to lie to her when I felt like i wasnt caught. When she gave me that look i felt like she saw right through me. Without any warning, she grabbed my hand and dragged me away.

After a few steps, i looked around to instantly notice the neighborhood around us. We were heading to her apartment. Her apartment that she turned into a home for herself.

Walking into her apartment she sat me down on the couch. She stood in front of me, arms crossed. I took a small moment before looking up at her, she had a serious look on her face. 

"so are you going to tell me what you were really doing out there?" she sat down on an armchair in front of me. I took a big breath and looked down, playing with my fingers trying to avoid her gaze.

I took one more breath then looked up at her and told her everything. There was a long moment of silence once i was done. I couldnt help but get nervous under her intense gaze.

"y/n you're an idoit. You could have just told, like this is something serious. Do you not trust me enough to tell me things like that or what? What kind of best friend am i if im not there for you when you need someone?" she shook her head at me.

"i-its not like that, i just didnt want you to worry about me thats all. When things began with me, you were training to become an idol. I didnt want to be a reason for you to stop pursuing your dreams all because you were worried about helping me." i continued to play with my fingers, still to nervous to look up at her.

There was nothing said after that. I glanced up at her after a few seconds. She looked like she was thinking about something. Then she stood up and sat next to me before looking at me again. i gulped softly, wondering what she was going to tell me now.

"you could live here. Its not so often i get to be home since my schedule usually keeps me busy so, you could stay here." she looked straight at me.

"n-no no, its okay i'll be able to find a place." i shook my hands, denying her offer.

"for what, y/n? so you could just end up getting kicked out again." she looked at me with 'are you serious' face. Then she looked down and mumbled something i couldnt quiet catch."geez your lucky i lov-"

My nervousness changed into confusion. "what did you say?" she looked flustered when i asked her that.

"n-nothing. It was nothing" she turned her face, i could failtly see a pinkish hue on her cheeks.

"come on, I told you everything that has been happening with me, stuff that i never wanted to tell you." i scooted closer to her. " i doubt whatever you have to say is worse than mine." this time I wasnt the one not being able to hold the others gaze.

She took a small breath then looked back up at me. Their was a look of vulnerability in them, making me automatically soften. "p-promise it wont affect us negatively?" she grabbed on of my hands into her, she never once left my gaze.

Usually i didnt like making promises on things i wasnt sure of but that way she was looking at me, I couldnt help but agree. "i promise" my voice lower than i wanted too.

I saw her take a small gulp, her eyes fluttering shut for a second before meeting my gaze again. It looked like she was trying to compose herself. She was hesitance and her breathing was soft. I got lost for a second just admiring her. 

"i......i love you y-y/n." i was slightly taken aback. I would have never thought thats what she wanted to tell me. "i have loved you e-ever since you supported and believed in me when everyone else wouldn't."

I couldnt respond. I was trying to process everything. Her grip on my hand tightened at my silence. Her eyes became a bit worried. "s-say something please." her voice came out shaky but it was enough to snap me out of it.

"I l-love you too" the words slipped out before i could fully think, but i didnt regret it because it was true. "ever s-since i met you." 

"r-really?! why didnt you tell me?" she looked at me surprised and that quickly changed into being frustrated with me

"well why didnt you?" i raised my hands up trying to surrender before she went further.

We both froze for a second before breaking into a fit of laughter. After calming down, we took a small breath and turned to look at each other. 'Sooooo, what now?" she asked softly.

I took this time to notice how close we were. My eyes wondered all around her face. From her eyes, to her nose, to her lips and back up. She noticed my gaze and a blush filled her cheeks. I couldnt help but lean into her. 

Our lips brushed each others, i hesitated a bit, wanting to make sure she wanted this too. Her eyelids flutter closed and that was more than enough. I leaned fully in and captured her lips. The kiss was soft, her hand came and held my shirt.

We pulled away smiling like a couple of idiots. "you dont know how long ive been wanting to do that." I whispered, looking at her like if i was in daze.

"does that mean your staying here." she grinned even wider, her hand slipping under my shirt to carress my skin.

"i'll stay for as long as you want me." I pecked her cheeks.

"hmmm then i guess your staying here forever." she gave me a firm kiss, i melted instantly. "now I say lets go play some games before bed. i need to beat your ass for that one time you somehow you managed to beat me." She rolled her eyes playfully before dragging me to her, well i should say our room now.

Its nice to know that I will always have her to love and support me and i know i will always do that same for her.

[whole-circus]

Can you do when the Proxies, Eyeless Jack, and Slenderman, find out the reader has a extra appendage like a tail? Although the reader doesn't hide it they just use it like a belt but rarely use it?? (How has your day been? Also please make sure to not stress yourself)

Creepypastas with reader that has a tail!

➥ with "Ticci" Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Eyeless Jack, Slenderman

Hi love!!! Thank you and remember to take care about yourself too!!&lt;3 Im going a bit insane in my room lol But I hope you felt at least okay!

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

"Ticci" Toby

Toby finds you so cool! He wouldnt really notice at first that its actual tail, but how long he can stay clueless? When he finally gets it, he is so excited i swear. You almost make him wish that he had tail instead, but he cant complain since his partner have it! Toby will beg you to touch it and play with it, he is way happier about the tail than you (and you literally live with this things.. with tail, not toby). Loves to lay down with you and cuddle, your tail wrapped around his hand/ leg/just anything. Loves playing with it when he needs to keep his hands busy. Toby would be also respectful if you dont like having your tail touched becasue i can only imagine how sensitive it is, just say the word and he will act like it doesnt even exist congrats, now he will play with your hand!

Masky

Honestly wouldnt make a big deal out of it? Masky is a simple man, and i feel like he wouldnt even noticed at first if you wear it as belt, would just think that you have weird fashion sense but who he is to judge?? But then it turns out that its actual tail? You are person of many suprises, arent you? Listen, he would definitely calls you some of this cheesy petnames like kitten or puppy just becasue of your tail 💀..like please, punch him or something. Overall good boyfriend, will fight for you and stroke your tail??

Hoodie

Good luck with him! Hoodie wants to touch it a lot! Its not like there are a lot of chances in life to pet someone tail, huh? Who can blame him in such cruel condictions..? Even if you use it as a belt, he loves when you just..let it swing by itself! That way he has easier acces to it, and i mean it - boy is in heaven. He would definitely tease you so so much! Hoodie will anno and you can expect at least couple of funny comments about your tail daily (or at least he thinks they are funny). I see him wearing a fake tail just to mess with you to be honest. Hoodie isnt the worst person, you will definitely get a lot of attention from him! Is it good or bad? I will let you decide!

Eyeless Jack

Okay, Jack really enjoyes having "not-so-normal" partner (well, in term of being a human). He tends to be a bit insecure sometimes about what he is, so you make it all a bit easier to him to be honest. Doesnt feel as weird - and of course he doesnt want you to feel this way! He is pretty observant (and well, have amazing senses), so propably noticed it when you used it as a belt, no need to tell him twice! Absolutely loves to make you flustreted!! Will tease the shit out of you, i mean it. Definitely will like to caress it and play with it (pls he is a bit like a cat), later will chuckle in his husky tone when you are embarassed and tell him to stop

Slenderman

Slenderman wont say too much..well not like he is the most talkactive person! He is fascinated by people, loves observing them and to learn about their nature..does it really matter for what reasons? We will just move on with that.. Anyways, if you ask me, Slender as not-human-creature likes seeing how everyone is diffrent event tho he had seen already a lot! There is really tiny wall between his hate and fascination for humans. But dont worry, its you who we talk about! He will ask some questions, but in his subtle and gentlemanly way! It doesnt matter to him if you are a bit diffrent, becasue he sees it more as your advantage than disadvantage! Slenderman would be more into intelect than look anyway i think. Wont touch your tail tho..well maybe not without your consent, but he just doesnt really care, he has seen almost everything in his 'life'.

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚　

[reco-obsessed]

thinking about alice's and reko's deaths as metaphors for their emotions for each other over the years.... when alice is offered to have his memories wiped by safalin, he takes the offer, because reko takes so much of his life that he can remember that her death makes his entire being hurt. hes practically structured his identity around her- in trying to be a good big brother, one he felt she deserved. hes been willing to put himself aside for her own goals and desires, always accepted being sidelined to try and support her. so to lose her is to lose so much of himself- leave him a huge, gaping hole that cant possibly be recovered from even as he just barely clings onto whatever life he has left.

reko doesnt see the amount of grief coming after alice goes to prison, or when he dies. its a betrayal of herself, to feel so much for the person she resented and tried to ignore this whole time. the wound isnt that big, but then why does the blood keep coming, and why cant she stop it? why is she still crying, even though she refuses to sob? it runs so deep her hearts probably torn clean in half, but youd never see that from the outside. or at least she'll try her best to keep that in- her lack of last words wont make up for the pool of blood on the floor. this one, "small" thing breaks her as she knows it. should she live, and safalin offer to remove her memories instead, she rejects it. she spent almost her whole life trying to push alice's presence out of her mind, that weakness of having someone who mattered so much to her, the person who cared most for her, who she cared for most for, who she resented for it- for wanting her to be successful in a way she hated, but she'd do it, even if she cant stomach to look at him anymore. and, maybe, in some way, she got what she wanted. alice went to prison, removing him from her life almost absolutely, and for that small of time when they were reunited in the death game, they barely acknowledged each other directly- rekos last words she can probably remember to him were something along the lines of 'pretend you dont know me. we're strangers at this point, and i dont want people thinking we have any connection'. between her explicit rejection and the fake reko receiving the bongos, theres the chance she might not even realize alice wants otherwise. but somehow, even though she brought this upon herself, it hurts so so much more than she was expecting it to.

and she cant help but feel like its her fault that things went the way they did. that maybe if shed been a better sister, alice wouldnt have ever killed someone, or had died here, or maybe there wouldve at least been something to remember besides the hurt of him being gone. but reko also knows that she had her second chance- and she cant imagine doing anything different with what she knew. she protected herself, but at what cost? she could try to fight back now, if she really tried, but maybe deep down, she doesnt feel she deserves to, when she was the cause. it happens quicker than she imagined, and all she knows how to do at this point is lie down and take it. its just like the first time alice left, in a way. she was always about movement and action- his leaving was the only thing that could give her pause. even though she grew as a person when he was gone, she really did lose a part of herself, and it nearly killed her the first time, let alone the second.

[mangosrar]

i haven’t heard from you since.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

idk if i specified but they’re in a relationship and have been for like 3 years!!

also hey y’all i disappeared for a while but i’m back 😛and i’m currently trying to get through the requests so be ready 😈love y’all. bee ❤️‍🩹

how had it become like this? it seemed so unbelievable that there was a point in yoir life where you thought you were going to marry him, have children, and grow old together. if someone would have told you three years ago that you would both end up like this you would have laughed in their face. he used to be so sweet, so passionate about you, but now that couldnt be further from the truth.

you werent really sure when the change happened, or why it happened maybe a little after your birthday, maybe before. of course you knew people grow apart but this wasnt growth. this was borderline misery. the constant fighting, the days of ignoring one another, the nights where chris would come home at 2am and not say a word to you after you had been waiting up for him, it was nothing short of torture.

but still every single time, both of you just let it blow over, waiting until the next bomb went off, but the long lasting was lasting a little too long.

"oh please, like you were actually worries" he scoffed, taking his hat off and throwing it on the kitchen table.

"you stormed out on me, you didnt even tell me where you were, youve been gone for 5 hours and you stroll in at almost 3am expecting me to be cool about it? what fucking planet are you living on" you said staring at him.

he didnt even reply he just shook his head, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. a moment of silence passed as you waited for him to say something, anything, and finally he took a deep breath in and pulled his eyes up to meet yours.

"maybe i just dont wanna fucking be around you" his voice was quiet and soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his words. his expression was stoic and completely unreadable.

he watched the colour drain from your face, as he did every time he would bark an insult at you. a small part of him felt nothing but pure joy to know that he had the power to completely crush you, like when murderers say they feel no remorse for the people theyve killed, but another small part of him was bleeding, a self-inflicted stinging, like a pain he had never felt before.

"you know what chris, day by day i realize everything i miss about you was never there in the first place, the person i fell in love with was a fucking mirage." your words were dripping with venom. his face faltered for a second, momentarily letting the mask slip, and the pain your words were causing him beginning to slip out.

"you dont mean that" he looked like he was about to burst into tears, and it made your mouth run dry.

you tried so hard to keep it together, but the tears that had gathered in your waterline threatened to spill with every single Shakey breath you took. there was a pregnant pause and the effect of your words hung in the air. chris stared at you intensely and you let your eyes rest anywhere but on him, you couldnt look at him, at the chance of seeing him with watery eyes and a wobbly lip might make you fall at his feet once more.

you took a deep breath before eventually meeting his gaze and beginning to talk.

"i dont know why things changed chris.... but one day i woke up and we no longer spoke the same language, and i havent heard from you since" chris watched every time as he crushed you, but now as he took your place, standing there with his hands by his sides, mouth hanging open, taking rapid breaths, in and out, while trying not to cry, he felt as though you had murdered him.

"that doesnt mean i dont love you y/n, we can work through this, weve done it before, ill be better i promise i will" he spoke with a wobbly voice.

the tears were now full force streaming down your face. he stood there across the kitchen with wide eyes, trying to think of how to come back from this, but there was something about the way you opened your mouth to speak again, that told him there wasnt.

"i cant relax around you chris, if i relaxed my body now, id fall apart. if i relaxed for a fucking second, id never find my way back. why cant you see that?" you paused for a moment and shook your head at him in disbelief. "why cant you see that you are tearing me limb for limb when i have done nothing but love you? why cant you understand that i have poured all of my heart and soul onto you to try and wash away whatever it is thats made you like this and you are throwing it back in my face? i mean when will this fucking end?" you were yelling and you hadnt even realized you had made your way over to him and were now standing less than a foot away.

"y/n please, dont do this. ill get my shit together and ill be better because i love you" he looked at you with pleading eyes as he spoke, reaching out to grab your hand, but when you pulled away before he even got the chance to even feel your skin on his, it was like he had died right there in that second.

"do you?" you whispered, swallowing thickly, desperately trying to stop the floodgates from opening more.

chriss face was wet with tears as he stared down at you sniffling. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. he was completely gob smacked. he never thought it would get to this point. but as your eyes bored into his, wordlessly begging him to say something that would fix this, he felt as though the earth was crumbling beneath his feet.

his silence gave you all the answers that you needed, so with that you turned around and walked away, and the sound of his broken voice calling your name, spoke volumes.

he knew it was over, he knew that you were about to go upstairs and pack your bags and walk out the door, but he didnt do a thing to try and stop you, he knew he wouldnt be able to fix this even if he tried, so he watched you walk away, and the second you were out of sight, he fell to his knees, clutching his chest like he was dying and letting out sob after sob, like it would mend all damage he had done.

in the next room, you were frantically trying to keep your self control. the urge to walk back in there and wipe his tear-stained cheeks and kiss his broken heart better was paralyzing. the sound of him wailing and weeping was soul crushing, but this had to be done, one of you had to be strong enough to walk away.

you knew he would leave such an imprint on you, he had left such severe claw marks that anyone you even entertained after chris, would have to know him in order to understand you, and that might have been the worst fucking part.

—————————————-—————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @nickdevora @gwenlore @sturnioloenthusiast

[ace-of-gay]

A Mountain is home

I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently

Warnings: age regression (not very in depth) , self destructive stimming like scratching pulling on tail thrashing and hitting ones self during a neurodivergent meltdown, quite panicked reader, reader has trauma, reader is a full ghoul this time cause this is still my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles and ghoul-piles!!!

The word muzzle is used multiple times over but is referring to a mouth cover to symbolize silence

I headcannon mountain as autistic, no shoes for lifeee yup thats all

age regression is a coping mechanism that can be both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll away thank you <3

Not betad or edited

Word count: 5,611words (it basically wrote itself)

Youd been summoned just a week ago and it already seems as though youre once again fading into the background, no one had taught you if someone of your neurotype was acceptable in todays world, the bok-hord in hell or library as you read above the one here in the church of sin was not at all up to date on whats acceptable yet.

This is your second time being summoned, your first ritual was terrifying but what made it worse is they thought you were impossible to become a domestic ghoul, the uncertainty of being sent back from this one weighed on you, if you went back again no one would be there for you.

Holding yourself back and biting your tongue from doing or saying anything including the strange chirps and trills that kept you regulated, taking it upon yourself to be even more docile and quieter than the tall ghoul behind the drums, no matter the situation not a peep has been heard from you, all you did was play your instrument, there was no jumping around putting on a presentation, the others however did so, its just practice but you hadnt earned your place, you could always be sent back for even the most minor of slip up, its happend before and you for sure wont let it happen again.

《~♡~》

Friday nights are prime for the others, the guys in a ghoul-pile and girls raiding the fridge for snacks while watching a film, in the common area designated for only ghouls no one wearing their mask but yourself, only passing through doing your best to keep in the shadows, if youre out of place surely youll be duely punished, the first time you were summoned your family and friends were disappointed to see you sent back but your mother worst of all had said she had expected it , you had no place yet, so your room was for you the closest to safety.

Locking the door to your room as soon as you returned; taking off themask and the muzzle of sorts, some ghouls had facepaint instead but you weren't vocal so there was no reason, finally now to a safe place you let everything fall from its people pleasing manner into what felt most like yourself, jumping up and down to get your blood flowing and thoughts swarming.

"Who needs others when you can feel at home just being yourself", clicking and pacing and flapping your hands you were trying to catch up to what your body demanded, but

It just kept spilling, from the deepest places in your mind, crevasses full of discomfort, confusion, irritation and just the most overwhelming feeling that could muster  itself from your being.

Nothing was working, it was too late to regulate and your mind took to a melt down, shaking your head wasnt good enough, grabbing hold of your horns, you violently shake yourself around, tail whipping and slashing all around you, and than the crying.

Oh how the crying was the worst part, shoving the muzzle back on it didn't do much for silence but its still an attempt, everyones expectations ringing shrill in your ears, you didn't come from a happy home, your family torn apart by sinners from christs hall a completely different take on sin, as it caused harm.

Hands over your muzzle to silence just a bit more if possible and than the silent choked sobs, more physically painful but it wouldn't draw attention, thats the last thing you wanted, slamming your fists down against your thighs followed by tugging on your tail and scratching the spade of it until it hurt, the only thing that could regulate you was small jolts and shocks of pain and than it stopped, you were right back where you started, silent but this time you felt like a kit.

A tiny kit who got told that they need to learn to be normal, but for the time being there was the innocence, nothing would happen if you weren't, you were just different, and you were alone but you were still safe.

Putting the helmet back on, you take all of the blankets and pillows that are in your room and shove them under your bed, taking the cover sheet and creating a curtain between the floor and the frame, all of your tiny kit-like self holed up in one place, a place as small as the family and friends in your life had made you, maybe this time you were sent here to be safe.

Fixing up the nest you made under your bed you let yourself hide away from the world, be as small and pure as your mind could muster and let all the terrible feelings melt away, chirping and trilling quietly as you lay there eventually being held close and coddled by darkness, falling asleep you would not return to the common rooms until most necessary.

Grabbing food and hiding once more, at some point when you were in the library and had found scratch paper, a sketchbook , a couple pencils and a mess of tacks set out in a bin that had the word 'FREE' in print on it for anyone to partake in the activity of drawing, collecting the supplies and a few books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, and just a simple fairy tale, you embark back to your room.

Over the weekend you had covered the walls in the corner of the room under your bed with fantastical pictures of your dreams, and drawings of each ghoul and papas youve seen so far.

《~♡~》

When monday came it was back to breakfast and lessons in the morning, lunch after practice around noon and communal chores, the others were very loud today, as for yourself youd been silent like predicted but you could feel eyes on you and could hear bickering but nothing quite clear of their words.

making dinner for everyone was the last thing, it was easy, it was one thing your family didn't ridicule you over, your cooking made anyone who was having a bad day feel better, there was so much passion that anyone could see and taste.

your tail flowing in an easy, comforting sway and a smile hidden under your muzzle, the first smile to bare your face outside of your room and it felt like this was what would give you your place to stay.

Dishing everyones plates with your home-made meal and taking it to the ghouls and ghoulettes where they each were was apparently unexpected and out of their ordinary, but you had no idea, how would you when you hide away, maybe they would take that into consideration. This was also one of the first times you got to hear others address you, smiles and bright eyes shared when they where blown away by your cooking, you dished up yourself and sat at the island counter crouching on a wooden stool, sitting on them hurts the backs of your legs and crouching was more like hugging yourself anyway.

Soon enough people would march in putting their dishes in the sink giving a thankyou and a smile or a compliment to your cooking, slowly eating your food, savoring each bite, the comments from others causing your tail to pick up its sway with a little flick in it, maybe itll be okay.

You go to put your dish in the sink after rinsing it off when the tall guy from behind the drums approaches, while just as quiet as you he was also playful like the others.

"Hey y/n dinner was amazing, i cant wait til next week to see what you come up with" he exclaimed, "im mountain by the way, i know i didn't exactly introduce myself at all since you first got here, we wanted you to settle in, you seemed very stressed" he added before someone shouted for him from the other room, leaving with a smile and wave.

There was no expectation for you to respond, no expectation to look someone in the eyes, you let out a small chirp joined by a small movement in your hands.

《~♡~》

Back in your room you let your tail wag wildly,  pulling the books you'd been reading up on, you had gotten from them the fact that over the years some churches of sin have allowed a better understanding and acceptance for people and ghouls alike with neurodivergencies to be better recognized and seen as equals, there were things they didn't tell you about back in hell when you were told of your neurotype, like your sounds and movement for self regulation was called stimming and that it can be harmful but it can also be helpful just depending on the purpose and action, you had copied information from the book down on resources and important things you thought would help, these books were the most helpful and the fairy-tale was perfect however you needed a new one since youve read this one so many times you knew every line, you take the books back to the library.

Putting them back on their respective shelfs you pick out two new fairy-tales and stop by the free stuff bin, taking pencil lead an eraser and a new sketchbook, youve already filled your first one in just a few days, you dont have anymore room on the walls around your nest for more loose paper sketches so you need the sketchbook instead.

On your walk back to your room admiring the stained glass windows, lost in thoughts somewhere between regression and big feelings, letting them mingle and intertwine,

So lost in thought you dont see when papa copia started coming closer until he spoke up, "good evening y/n" a small scream torn from you as you are brought back to right now practically jumping out of your skin, your eyes big as you process who it is, the first time anyone has heard your voice in any way and it obviously had to be a panicked scream, this wouldn't sit well with your family, your mind shifting farther into regression, just wanting to be in your room again.

"My apologies little one" littleone? Is it that obvious you think to yourself, "it was not my intention to frighten you, i see youve taken a liking to the library, what books have you got there?" Hanging your head in shame and slight worry you show him the two fairy-tales and he breaks out in a grin "i remember reading those, i might have to look at them once more! A very good choice, Molto bene indeed" finishing up your silent-sided conversation you rush quickly back to your room, theres been too much interaction and what did papa copia mean by 'little one?'

《~♡~》

After a few days of this halfsided banter from the ghouls and papa youre started to feel a little more comfortable.

A knock on your door pulled you from your slumber, the first couple times had made their way into your dream, you get up and open the door to the ghouls and ghoulettes standing in the hall, a few smiles making their way on a few faces, and thats when you realize youre not wearing your mask or muzzle, heat rushing to your ears and cheeks causing your cool grey skin to tint purple, hanging your head in embarrassment while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, "were sorry to wake you but were meeting early today because papa has a meeting with the clergy and after lessons and practice mix we have the rest of the day off", nodding you return into your room to get changed and to put on your muzzle and mask, the group waiting outside of your room for you to walk with them.

Lessons and practice going by quickly you find yourself in the library,helmet off, curled up and tucked into one of the couches reading another fairy-tale, looking intently at the pictures, your eyes irritated from not getting all of the sleep you normally get, theyre slowly drifting shut, you can only stay awake so much longer before your mind takes you to a rem sleep.

Waking up to mountain shaking you awake he smiles gently, "hey sleepy head, i was looking for you, its lunch time but it seems as though youre tired, we'll get you to your room and ill bring lunch to you there" he was a gentle giant ghoul and although you haven't said anything to anyone youre starting to warm up to him, he puts a book mark in the book and helps you up handing you your mask, you decide to just carry it with you.

Opening your door he hands you the book and you set it down atop your bed along with your mask, "do you want me to knock when i come back?" Thinking for a moment and shaking your head 'no' you'll probably just be asleep again, taking off the muzzle you set it with your mask getting ontop of your empty bed you curl up waiting while slightly dozing.

When he returns he walks in with your plate in hand, "wheres you stuff bud? Did they move you into an unready room?" You once more shake your head, pulling up the bedsheet curtain putting your nest on display, "aaah a safe spot, i completely understand, im here if you need anything, just holler my way" he kids while stepping out.

"Can you- stay?" You mutter through a slightly broken voice, catching him off guard, youre not sure why you asked but he seems easy to open up to, hes kinda like you.

"Id be honored"

You sat there mostly quiet eating but occasionally you'd respond and every time he would be looking elsewhere but the smile on his face said he was paying attention.

The more you got to know him the more you realized youre very similar to him.

《~♡~》

The next couple weeks youd spend lunch with him sharing stories while you sat in your nest and him at your desk, he talked about how fond the ghouls and ghoulettes and even the papas were of you, they all looked forward to you hopefully someday talk full sentences with them but for now with you slowly coming out of your shell, wearing your mask and muzzle less often and spending more time somewhat near the group, for now they were content watching you grow and become more of yourself.

You gave each person a sketch youd do of them from observation and mountain even brought you another sketchbook when he noticed you were running low on pages, you told him why youve been scared to come out of your room and your past experience with your previous summoning, you however didn't tell him why it failed but he understood itll take some time.

《~♡~》

One evening after another one of your delicious meals you were invited to watch a movie with everyone, accepting the offer you show up in your hoodie you just recently bought and pajama pants, socks with sticky tabs on the bottom so you didn't slip on the marble floors, you balled yourself up in a beanbag chair, others had grabbed pillows or stuffed animals from the pile in the corner, you go over to look through the pile, pulling out a well loved multi-textured dog plush, smiling and taking it over to your spot with you, focused on the textures, "very good choice little wisp" mountain hummed, your tail thumping against the bean bag chair, your cheeks and ears dusted purple once more, "i haven't held one since i was very small" you return.

After the movie you gave the plush one last hug before placing it atop the pile, "you know if you want you can take it to your room with you, we have them here for everyone" he encouraged but you shook your head, "he would miss his friends and i dont want to take someone elses opportunity of loving him away", little did you know the ghouls left in the room all felt their hearts melt, this wasnt new to them, theyve met ghouls and people whose minds are permanently part kit, they wouldn't say anything until you said something first, youre part of the family, you deserve to do it on your own terms.

Just the next evening when you returned from the library you come to find a black gift

Bag infront of your door with a tag that has your name on it.

Entering your room you set everything down before you open the bag, youre met with a soft multi-texture plush almost identical to the one from the other night but this one had weighted feet,and a book of several fairy-tales with a few purple tabs on certain pages along with it. A card that says, "a plush specifically for you and your love, i hope you give him a wonderful name, and a book my mother read to me when i was just a kit, one that you dont have to take back to the library"

Holding the plush out infront to look at him your headspace slipping quickly, thankfully you were in the safety of your bedroom and he would fit perfectly into your nest with you.

With plenty of time between now and dinner time, your chores being done and someone else being on dinner duty you took right now to relax.

in comfortable clothes you lay down in your nest with your book and the stuffy you named chip cause he reminded you of chocolate chip cookies, you named him late at night when you were feeling very small and it just stuck.

Closing your eyes when the words in the book were adding to the strain, from all the light today, hunger pulling a whine from you, if you slept for now youd wake up at the perfect time to eat dinner, you might even sit with rain and talk about the books youve read recently outside of the fairy-tales.

Being pulled out of your dreams by someone gently shaking you awake and calling your name, confusion built it way to your face, he doesn't need to knock but normally he chooses to, what brought him in?

"I know youre sleepy but its dinner time and i know you like your routine,  i tried knocking but you were out cold" he states after reading your scrunched and slightly confused face, handing you your bowl, tonight cirrus and swiss made dinner together.

Mountain sits on the floor across from you as you both ate in a comfortable silence, thats one thing about him, he tries to make sure hes not being a trigger for anyone with misophonia.

Eating slowly and running your hand along the textures of your stuffy, "s'named chip" you just barely say aloud, causing him to smile, "thats the most perfect name for him, does he give the best of cuddles?" Nodding youre completely unaware of the fact hes talking to you as if you were a kit, he was just being kind and attentive for all you knew, and while yes thats completely true he also saw through your silence, hes talked to semi-permanent kit-minded ghouls and he knew it was for safety of mind.

Both of you done with dinner, you pull out your sketchbook as he gets up to take the dishes to the kitchen, standing in the doorway looking down at you with a smile upon his face, "do you want me to come back after i put the dishes in the kitchen?" Watching as you ponder for a moment before nodding, looking up at him, never once more than now have you longed for physical contact with someone but you little mind craves it.

He returned quickly to see you moving your nest about, your movements less exact and a little choppy, he could see the irritation when the blankets wouldn't flatten out so he got down to help, fixing it for you he sat back on his knees when you planted yourself down closer to the wall than normal, you pat the spot next to you while holding chip close to your chest.

"You want me to cuddle little wisp?" He questioned already taking his jacket off before you hummed in response.

Cuddling was very common amongst ghouls so there was no questions asked as to why

It was naturally so second nature for most.

Curling into him he holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you could just fall asleep right now but you fought that instinct so you could savor a moment of feeling completely safe, where youre not being overstimulated.

"When i was first summoned i read those exact same books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, i remember reading that someone with a mind like the one both of us have can easily struggle in public environments or around new people"

He retold, causing you to question how he knew you read them.

"Oh wisp, i can hear just how stirring you mind can be, i saw you walking back to the library to return them, i want you to know that you are safe here with me and all of the others, im honored to cuddle, i didn't join a ghoul-pile until several months of being here."

Nodding to yourself, taking a moment to process his words when your own  join the party.

"Jus cant do touch with others almost ever, makes brain hurt and than hurts me aswell"

Your eyes started to sleepily flutterand he picks up the fairy-tales book he brought you, opening it up to one of the purple tabs, some of his favorites.

He read you to sleep, when his pants were starting to put deep seam imprints  into his legs causing him discomfort, he goes to leave the room but is stopped by you plea for him to stay, "ill be right back little mouse."

And like promised he did return in much more comfortable clothes, a blanket and a comfort item of his own, cuddling back up with you halfway ontop of him, covering the both of you with his blanket, setting your temporarily forgotten of stuffie in the corner above your head along with his.

《~♡~》

From than forward you and mountain spent Friday nights in your room reading and cuddling, going to lessons and practice together, he was helping you open up, when it would be your night to make dinner, which you had requested to have more than once a week instead of sink duty because soggy wet hands felt offensive to your skin, he would sit at the island watching unless one of his chores intercepted that period of time or if another ghoul requested his company.

It took five months to ease you out of you shell, at four you had brought up the regression and neurodivergency topics to the others and than out of fear you hid in your room for the weekend until dew stopped by inviting you to watch a movie with the others which you happily obliged to do so, remembering that its okay to be around others and be yourself, that night you sat on the couch behind the ghoul-pile falling asleep with chip in your arms, your tail intertwined with mountains.

Not wearing your mask unless you needed a break or everyone else was, copia had taken you aside at one point to find fabrics that looked like the others but were sensory safe so when it was time for uniforms you would feel comfortable.

At night you would go out to the garden in secret and jump around, spin, stomp, trill, chirp, coo and so much more. It helped tremendously.

《~♡~》

Tonight unlike the others was much louder in your head and harder to feel okay, already regressed you tried stomping around and flailing your hands but without meaning to you were once more pulling on your tail and scratching it painful and raw, the garden was closed for the night with new fertilizer being put down, taking chip you trail your way down to one of the last rooms, the shiny name plate reading 'mountain' you gave a slightly too heavy knock on the door, rocking back and forth on your feet, he answers and is suprised to see you standing there with deep grey tear tracks down your face, chip under your arm and your tail in hand scratching as you fumble with your words.

Letting you in he pats the bed for you to sit down while he turns on the light and pulls a shirt on over your head, sniffles and hiccups break your silence, he take your hands and holds them for a moment, watching the spade of your tail drop small dots of blood onto the marble floor, "come with me little wisp, its okay" he leads you to the bathroom, picking you up and setting you on the counter, lifting his tail for you to hold on, he knew full well you wouldn't scratch his, tracing the scars on his tail had you questioning if he did the same.

As he took hydrogen peroxide cleaning the small cuts and scrapes pulling a hiss from you in reaction, "i know hun, im sorry ive got to be mean and clean it but weve got to take care of it so it doesn't get icky ya-know?" He soothes, "you see the ones on my tail, theyre from the same thing, sometimes i almost start scratching at them again but i normally just hold my tail and put lotion on the scars to feel like im cleaning it up once more"

Once hes done patching you up he once again takes your hands leading you to his bed and looking through his closet. His room was well decorated and filled, a queen sized pillow top mattress and black wooden four poster bed frame against the wall, he had a collection of old trinkets including a camera that takes film, your father used to have one, several gas masks, a homophone record player. On the wall above his desk was a cork board coverd in the drawing youd given him, small trinkets littler his desk, before you could look further he brings over a box of similar small trinkets setting them infront of you.

"You can dump the box out if you want, find whatever works best, i have plenty more" dumping them out you turn the box upside down organizing them, finding three, liking them the most you put the duplicates of them and all the others away back in the box holding onto the three youd picked out, he puts the box under his bed, seating himself next to you, leaning into his side as he turns on one of the movies you'd taken interest in, "hey wisp can i hold chip?", nodding against his chest, paying deep attention to his heartbeat how slow and rhythmic, tapping your tail against the bed in the same beats, occasionally humming and trilling, his left hand running up and down your back, occasionally running though your hair gently.

"Youre gonna be okay little mouse, ive got you".

《~♡~》

Your first ghoul pile was something very special, stuffies piled everywhere, they all had banded together to make the room perfect for your comfort, your favorite music playing in the background, dew and sunshine had found you in the library quietly crying flicking around one of the fidgets mountain gave you

Humming and rocking back and forth, chip sitting ontop of your tail, you couldn't find mountain and you didn't want to taint the energy of your nest. Sunshine sat with you as dew went to find mountain, she lifted chip for a moment, carefully intertwining her tail with yours setting chip on your tails.

Dew returned around 10 minutes late with a smile upon his face, taking your open hand with sunshine carrying chip, they took you through the abbey to the lounge where the blanket, stuffy and pillow pile was spread across the floor, mountain and all the other were waiting, some of them already cuddled up, and others walking around, drawing the curtains and dimming lights, filling up a cooler to keep near the pile, mountain lead you to the group, curling himself around you with chip between the two of you, sunshine still connected to you laying back to back with you.

The first time being so close to the others all together and for once your brain lets it happen, youre not sure whose hand is running through your hair but it causes you to chirp, nuzzling you head into the hand.

Swiss tapping his forehead against yours, "youre welcome to stay as long as you need, this is your pile."

Theyre all so much more calm and centered on one another when theyre cuddled, with the warmth from all of the bodies it made it very easy to slip into a smaller headspace.

Cirrus reaching over mountain to wipe away the tear tracks with a wet cloth, they already had a feeling youd be disoriented with the news of the tour starting at the end of this month and the arrival of the outfits.

Cooing and trilling, others trilling back made you excitedly laugh.

《~♡~》

Youve been attached to at least one ghoul at all times, they knew you liked holding tails until you had to use your charm to pass as human, copia gave you a hug before he headed out first.

This was the first time youve seen mountain wear shoes, it looked as abnormal as it felt to not have a tail.

Standing in your place when papa introduces the band, not paying attention to him but instead the piece in your ear counting down til the lights cut off and mountain and dew are counted in, mountain looks to you taking an exasperated deep breath telling you to take one aswell, feeling the lights go out and the beat of mounts drums through the floor, counting the cymbal crashes and its time for you to join in, as soon as your hands start moving, you feel it, absolute euphoria, youre radioactive with energy,  the fans going wild, youre practically thrashing as you play, prancing around and jumping when youve got time to spare you run up front adding flair and showmanship to the ceremony, interacting with the others.

By the end youre absolutely drained, enough energy to hop about and screech getting rid of the last bit of energy, if all of the tour is like this youre gonna have an absolute blast, mountain hands you a couple drumsticks for you to throw after taking a bow, and than perching yourself in 'frog crouch' on mountains riser next to his drums watching everyone go about their ending routines, people throwing stuff on stage, bracelets and flags to hand made gothic style stuffed animals, the ghouls picking some stuff up to look at em, handing them to the designated ghouls if there was a name and handing the rest to anyone else like yourself, the ghoulettes and even papa, swiss picked up a couple hand made stuffed animals bringing them to sit next to you.

When it was time to leave the stage mountain came over opening his arms, you lean forward wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he sets you down on you feet, grabbing the teddy's leaning into his side, hes completely drenched in sweat but so are you, it was practically a work out so it was worth it.

In the van having let down the human charm you wash up and slip into pajamas, the stuffies and bracelets set in your bunk you stare out the window waiting flicking your fidget around, Cumulus walks by stopping to give you a hug, "you did great wisp, your energy was so contagious. ", nodding and tapping your forehead against hers in a silent communication, you were absolutely exhausted.

As soon as mountain is out of the shower you push yourself into his chest, finally time to rest, and with your favorite ghoul no doubt,  he hands you chip, folding into one another he holds you gently, as he pulls out the fairy tale he reads your favorites in the book, looking down when youre not humming out your regular vocal stims he realizes youve fallen asleep with your head on his chest, his hands running up and down your spine, tail occasionally thumping against the bed followed by nuzzling against him, "sleep well little wisp, you were so radiant tonight.

《~♡~》

Your room at the church of sin was finally decorated, still sleeping in your nest, the ghouls helped you assemble a proper loft bed with the mattress from your previous bed as part of the nest below, stuffies from the tour everywhere and bracelets hung on a set of racks to display them, posters scatterd on your walls, some plushies piled on the top matteress but keeping that open for the most part if someone wants to hang out. A bookshelf full of normal books and fairy-tales,  a starry curtain over your window with a matching opposite one around your nest. Chip in his spot as always hes constantly waiting for your cuddles.

Drawings of both your own and others, many interpretation of what fans saw you as, they call you gargoyle, but to the ghouls youre just a little wisp or little mouse, you were your most accurate self, you were finally at home.

(Accidentally posted the unfixed version, sorry bout that)

[delimeful]

Really? You don’t find passive aggressive comments, such as your tags, do be impolite?

And how, exactly, is an ask button (which YOU enabled) that is commonly known to be used for requesting stories on Tumblr from writing pages impolite? Are you new to writing Tumblr? What do you think a majority of writers on Tumblr use that ask button for?

I’ve been a follower for a while but I’m pretty dissapointed tbh.

Anonymous asked: I noticed a reply from @/gstash So let me address that as well. No, of course I don’t expect everything immediately and for free, and I initially requested this story over a year ago. I also spent over $50 being subscribed to Lime’s Patreon specifically for this story, but I had to stop due to low finances. I was just trying to check on when it may be up soon, but I felt the response was rather rude.

(the added slash is mine, i didn't want to inadvertently @ anyone else in this debacle lol)

this is gonna be my final word on the matter because im sick of getting home from work to asks like these. anything else is gonna be deleted. feel free to go ahead and use your actual blog to reply instead of anon if you still feel that strongly about it.

i dont think my tags weren't passive aggressive they were just plain statements. no, i don't think it's impolite to express a boundary irt people asking me for updates. your indignation about this reflects on you, not me.

to clarify, badgering me for updates (verbatim: "Could you please please please post chapter 7") isn't impolite, just irritating. it was the decision to send another ask chiding me for my response that was impolite. kind of a dick move, as most involved in the tumblr writing community know. i genuinely feel sorry for the writers you follow if you genuinely only see their ask boxes as an opportunity to pester them.

i'm disappointed too, anon. i hoped that maybe keeping calm and sincerely explaining myself would be enough to prompt you to respond with empathy in kind, but instead you doubled down.

it seems like there's been a misunderstanding in regards to my patreon; there is no tier that ensures a specific chapter of a fic is updated within a specific time frame. that would be a commission, which is explicitly listed as a reward for my $30 tier, because those take a lot more time + energy for me.

my $12 patreon tier offers early access to my writing, and the ability to request future chapters be moved up on my to-do list, through polls + priority continuation requests. i can't guarantee any specific chapter update in a month, and i'll explain why.

currently, i have over 50 total WIP fics being worked on. each month, i get around 25 chapter update requests. even assuming that each chapter is 2k, my usual minimum chapter length, i would have to write 50,000 words every single month. if i had the capability for that kind of regular output, i would be churning out books like stephen king instead of constantly struggling for my usual monthly 10-15k like a chump lol.

in essence, don't subscribe to my patreon for a specific story unless you know the next chapter for it is already up there. which it is, because i eventually got to your request. and it'll eventually be up on the blog for free. and during the months you spent subscribed to my patreon, you received at minimum tens of thousands of words of content.

finally, an earnest request: please stop acting like twelve dollars is an exorbitant fee when i'm literally making pennies per word written. like, i could have worked a single 8 hour shift at mcdonalds in texas for minimum wage instead and i would have ended up with $8 more than you paid me for four months of many hours of dedicated work.

(not even a joke: 7.25 x 8 = 58.)

in conclusion, i am a human person with feelings, just like every other writer on this site. please take a moment to remember that when sending asks in the future